TROUBLE CITY

To All the Zombies at George Romero's Funeral

ArticlesNick PeronComment

Last week we lost a legend. George A. Romero passed away on July 16th, 2017 after battling lung cancer. His passing hit us at Trouble City pretty hard. His funeral was earlier this week in Toronto, where he lived for the past decade. There was a visitation that was open to the public so that George's fans could pay tribute to the legendary filmmaker. Legions of fans came to pay their respects. A lot were wearing t-shirts of their favorite Romero films. However, there was one contingent that went a little too far, at least in my opinion.

I'm sure you saw in some media reports how some fans showed up dressed up like zombies. I get that people were doing it out of love and respect for George, and they meant no harm in doing so. Sure, George probably would have gotten a kick out of it in some way as well, he had a good sense of humor. But come on people, this is a funeral. You're not there to make a spectacle of yourself. You're there to pay respect, not just to the deceased, but to their grieving family. I can't speak for the Romero family, but if I were in their position, I wouldn't be impressed by the following:

Credit: Steve Russel, The Toronto Star 

Credit: Steve Russel, The Toronto Star 

The man was a legend in his time bringing the modern zombie into our lives,
— Leanne MacRae

That quote is from the woman pictured above. With that sort of poorly thought out explanation, I feel as though the woman is lacking in any kind of empathy. This woman probably would have gone to Chris Cornell's funeral wearing a noose.

You might not agree with me, but showing up at a closed casket funeral dressed up as rotting corpses is kind of inappropriate in my mind. Yes, George redefined the zombie movie sub-genre. But that wasn't the entire body of his work. To dress up in such a way is so much overkill it's almost appalling. I don't know if you noticed or not, but there were only a handful of you idiots dressing up like a zombie as most of the attendees had the common sense to understand that it would be an inappropriate thing to do in this situation. 

Credit: David Friend, the Canadian Press

Credit: David Friend, the Canadian Press

Most everyone else there at least showed enough decorum to dress up for a sad occasion, but here you are in a stupid Halloween mask a pretending that you're eating a severed leg in front of television cameras like a total idiot. All of the press that covered this story focused on your stupid displays that it took away from the real newsworthy item: George's passing. You thought this was your moment to show off, and I find that disgusting. If you were one of these people you should be ashamed of yourself.

I don’t rush out to see those films. I have a particular use for them. If there’s something I’d like to criticize, I can bring the zombies out. And I get the financing that way. So I’ve been able to express my political views through those films.
— George Romero, Time Magazine, June 10, 2017

It's indecent, which explains that the only place that published video and pictures of your stupidity was the Toronto Star. Most other media sources had the good taste to not include photos or video of you attention seekers traipsing around a funeral home. 

Let me put this into context for you numbskulls for a moment: When Wes Craven died in 2015, not a single person showed up at his funeral dressed up like Freddy Krueger. You know why? Because it's a disrespectful thing to do.

Yes, George's films touched all our lives, and since his family invited the public to pay their respects and you had every right to be there to do so. However, there is a time and a place. This wasn't a memorial screening of Night of the Living Dead, it was a funeral. You had one job to do, be respectful and you flubbed it. I leave this piece with some parting words, made by the man himself:

The humans are the ones I dislike the most, and they’re where the trouble really lies. The zombies are just mosquitoes.
— George Romero, Time Magazine, June 7, 2010

Reflect on that, won't you?