You may or may not recall my review of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake some months ago, in which I admitted that I had not yet seen the original film (something I've since remedied). I come to this remake of Dawn Of The Dead under the same circumstances; of George Romero's revered trilogy, I regretfully have only seen the first installment, and so once again I entered a 'reimagining' of a classic horror film with a fresh perspective.

I understand that a wicked sense of satire, mixed with equal parts gore and character development, helped make Romero's Dawn the milestone that it is remembered as. The remake has no satire, some surprising moments of character development and, yes, plenty of gore; it's a mostly successful zombie action movie (light years ahead of Resident Evil, not quite as fresh as 28 Days Later), and is something that I imagine will satisfy horror fans if they haven't already disavowed it.

One thing that struck me while watching it is that, if there ever were a zombie outbreak, things would proceed pretty much as we've seen in the movies; there are only so many reactions and routes of action one can take when dead people begin to attack, and I think they've all been covered cinematically. Romero tapped into something really primal and frightening with his vision of masses of mindless cadavers who plow through anything to get at the living; it must be primal, because everyone in zombie movies always do the same thing. This not the fault of the filmmakers, and I know this because last year, I wrote a screenplay for a zombie film; I tried to make it as original as I could, playing as closely to how I imagined things might proceed if, indeed, the world was overrun with the living dead. Watching this Dawn Of The Dead, which has been adapted from Romero's script by James Gunn (of Scooby Doo fame), was almost like looking at a checklist at scenes and ideas I thought were my own.

In my script, the two main characters holed up in a secure area, and later tried to escape by way of the building's parking garage, grabbing a fire axe to use as protection en route. In this film? Check. I also had a scene in which the characters split up to get supplies and weapons, and one of them ends up in pawn shop where the benevolent owner turns into a zombie and has to be killed. Without giving away one of the better relationships in the film -- check.

Less specific details were also approximated. Zombie children? Check. Grim acceptance that one has been bitten and will die? Check. Confused animals immune to zombies and ineffective government action? Check and check. Zombies who run like lunatics until their bodies begin to degenerate, slowing them down to the classic staggering action? Well, that was also a factor in '28 Days Later,' which I did see, but you get the picture, right? I'm not upset that the territory in my script is not as fresh as I had intially thought; if anything, I'm relieved to know that if zombies ever do attack, everyone should inherently know what to do.

All that aside, this film will not join its predecessor in the annals of horror film history, but I liked it. I loved the growing intensity of the opening ten minutes; I liked Sara Polley's strong yet effiminate heroine; I liked some of the choices the characters had to make. I even appreciated director Zak Snyder's use of Johnny Cash's The Man Comes Around for the opening credits; it doesn't work, but it was a nice idea. I grew restless now and then; I jumped in my seat when suitably provoked, because I'm just a sucker for that kind of thing. No shame in admitting that.

Note: the film ostensibly takes place in Milwaukee. However, I grew up in Milwaukee, and as much as I appreciate seeing the city represented in movies, the city in this movie is not Milwaukee. There are no lush green islands in the middle of Lake Michigan. The curse of North Hollywood strikes again.