Romero's original is probably still the most striking and influential, especially due to its low-budget simplicity. Romero had a few thousand bucks, a couple of trucks and a group of friends who believed in his vision. The zombie makeup, for the most part, was achieved by smearing oatmeal all over the actors' faces (as future Dead makeup artist Tom Savini was a photographer in Vietnam at the time). Romero didn't necessarily have an agenda, political or otherwise, in making this film. But he was able to sneak in a kicker at the end that's worth mentioning.
As the sun rises (indeed, the Dawn of the Dead), we see several groups of self-recruited zombie hunters. Filled with anger, fear and bloodlust, they stalk through the woods, shooting every zombie they come across. One group stumbles upon the house where most of the action has taken place. Our lead character, a black man, still alive, appears in the window. The zombie hunters mistake him for one of the undead and kill him.
Is this a last-minute commentary on Romero's part about the racial violence that was rampant in America in the 1960s? Would the zombie hunters not have mistaken the man for a zombie if he were white? Perhaps. The '60s were a mess, and Romero probably had a few things to say about the state of the world while making his little monster movie, even in the middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania.
