NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD
Screenplay
by:
GEORGE
A. ROMERO and JOHN A. RUSSO
Copyright 1968 by George A. Romero and John A. Russo
______________
It
is an ordinary dusk of normal quiet and shadow.
The gray sky contains a soft glow from the recent sun, so that trees and
long blades of grass seem to shimmer in the gathering night. There is a rasp of
crickets, and the rustle of leaves in an occasional whispering breeze.
Transitions
are easy and gradual, with relaxed studies of earth, grass and leafy branches on
a high-mounded hill. Revelation of
cemetery markers does nothing to disrupt the peacefulness of our established
mood; when awareness comes, it is almost as though we have known where we were
all along. We are in a typical
rural cemetery, conceivably adjacent to a small church….
Although
the presence of a church is felt rather than confirmed.
The stones range from small identifying slates to monuments of careful
design…an occasional Franciscan Crucifix, or a carved image of a defending
angel. Over a hundred years of
death indicated in stones syllabic with their year and the status of the
families they represent.
Over
the other night sounds is added the gravel-rumble of a slow-moving car.
A wider shot reveals the car and the mounded cemetery, as the car pulls
into the gate and moves down one of the cemetery roads, the car passes in
extreme foreground and moves away from the camera.
In the breeze of its passing, the dead leaves that clutter the little
road swirl and move.
Beyond
the distant trees, the last receding gray of dusk in surrendering to the black.
The car continues. When the car stops, we feel the absence of its
sounds…replaced by the crickets and the subtle wind.
Even as the car is still rocking slightly form its stopping action, we
cut to a shot through the driver window at the occupants of the car.
The driver is a young man in his mid-twenties, and his passenger is a
young woman, his sister. The man is
in shirtsleeves with a loosened tie. His suit-coat is on the clothing hook over
the back seat. The girl is wearing
a simple but attractive summer suit, with the jacket removed and folded on her
lap. She is fussing with her purse,
while the man shuts off engine, lights, and leans back to yawn and stretch his
legs. The girl closes a potato chip
bag, brushes crumbs, fluffs her hair… typical feminine gestures after a long
ride. The man stretches again.
BARBARA:
THEY
OUGHT TO MAKE THE DAY THE
TIME
CHANGES THE FIRST DAY OF
SUMMER.
THEN TWO GOOD THINGS
WOULD
HAPPEN ALL AT ONCE.
A
little laugh from the man as he straightens his tie.
BARBARA:
I
LOVE THE LONG DAYS AND
THE
EXTRA SUN.
JOHN:
A
LOT OF GOOD THE EXTRA DAYLIGHT DOES ME.
I
LOST AN HOUR’S SLEEP. AND IT’S DARK ALREADY,
AND
WE STILL HAVE A THREE-HOUR DRIVE,
AND
WE WON’T GET BACK TILL AFTER MIDNIGHT.
Barbara
reaches down to put her shoes on:
BARBARA:
IF
IT REALLY DRAGGED YOU THAT MUCH,
YOU
WOULDN’T DO IT.
JOHN:
ARE
YOU KIDDING? I CERTAINLY DON’T
WANT
TO BLOW SUNDAY ON THIS SCENE.
WE’RE
GONNA EITHER HAVE TO MOVE
MOTHER
TO PARKVILLE OR MOVE THE
GRAVE
TO PITTSBURGH.
BARBARA:
OH,
YOU’RE JUST BEING SILLY. MOTHER
CAN’T
MAKE A DRIVE LIKE THIS.
John
reaches to the back seat and produces a flowered, cross-shaped grave ornament.
In the center of the cross, in gold script on a red field, is written “We
Still Remember”
JOHN:
LOOK,
TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS…”WE STILL
REMEMBER’…
I DON’T, YOU KNOW IT…
I
DON’T REMEMBER WHAT THE
GUY
LOOKS LIKE.
BARBARA:
JOHNNY…
IT TAKES YOU FIVE MINUTES.
JOHN:
THREE
HOURS... NO, SIX HOURS…SIX
HOURS
AND FIVE MINUTES.
Barbara
continues to primp and straighten her outfit.
John hands her the grave ornament and leans forward to struggle into his
suit jacket.
JOHN:
MOTHER
WANTS TO REMEMBER. SO WE
HAVE
TO DRIVE FOUR-HUNDRED MILES
TO
PLANT A CROSS ON A GRAVE.
AS IF HE’S STARING UP THROUGH THE GROUND’TO
CHECK
OUT THE DECORATIONS…
(He
points at the cross inscription)…
WE
HAVE TO REMEMBER…
AND
SHE STAYS AT HOME.
BARBARA:
JOHNNY,
WE’RE HERE…ALL RIGHT?
She
opens her door and turns to step out. John takes the keys from the ignition and
drops them into his pocket.
JOHN:
HEY…HEY,
BARB, YOU KNOW THE
RADIO’S
BEEN ON ALL THIS TIME…
(Tighter
Shot of Radio)
VOICE:
LADIES
AND GENTLEMEN…PLEASE
FORGIVE…WHAT…HEY,
YOU
GOT A SIGNAL, CHARLIE?…
JOHN:
IT
MUST HAVE BEEN THE STATION
VOICE:
…DO
NOT BE AL…
John
clicks the radio off. He gets out
of the car and walks around the front of it, trotting to catch up with his
sister. It is obvious that she
didn’t hear him. He catches up to
her and starts to repeat his discovery about the radio.
JOHN:
HEY,
THE RADIO IS OKAY, IT’S JUST…
Barbara
is more interested in finding the row containing their father’s grave.
BARBARA:
YOU
REMEMBER WHICH ROW ITS IN?
JOHN:
(Momentarily
forgetting the radio)
HUH?
OH, IT’S OVER HERE, IT THINK…
They
start in his suggested direction.
JOHN:
DID
YOU HEAR THE RADIO?
BARBARA:
(Looking
ahead, trying to spot the grave)
HMMM?
JOHN:
THE
RADIO’S FIXED. MUST’VE BEEN THE
STATION,
NOT THE RADIO.
BARBARA:
(Still
searching intently, she tosses this
GOOD…
YOU WON’T BE AS BITCHY
DRIVING
HOME.
Their
jibes at each other are not really in anger, but are typical of brother-sister
annoyance. They walk through the
row of gravestones in the growing darkness.
JOHN:
(Making
conversation, with no more
comment about the
NOBODY
AROUND.
BARBARA:
WELL,
IT IS LATE. IF YOU’D GET UP A
LITTLE
EARLIER…
JOHN:
I
ALREADY LOST AN HOUR’S SLEEP ON THE
TIME
CHANGE.
BARBARA:
ON,
SOMETIMES I THINK YOU COMPLAIN JUST
TO HEAR YOURSELF TALK.