When I first heard George Romero had squirreled away this movie where it couldn't be viewed my first thought was that it was probably awful. In hindsight, this was an understatement.
The Amusement Park comes across as an extended student film that tries to be clever but winds up being both predictable and dull. It doesn't help that the film's introduction basically tells you what you're about to see, making the viewing experience somewhat redundant, and the overblown in-your-face visuals combined with the non-stop cacophonous screaming on the soundtrack makes the 53 minute running time seem like a day and a half.
The "restoration" clearly ran out of money at some point as constant scratches and wildly uneven color balancing totally destroy any concentration the viewer might attempt - not that there's anything to really concentrate on. The bottom line is that it's a bombastic assault of both image and sound that's somehow supposed to indicate that society's elderly are getting a raw deal. And it fails spectacularly in attempting to communicate this sensitive theme.
It makes for nice marketing to imply that the film's financiers found the finished work to be too unsettling, gruesome, horrifying (all of which were used in the ballyhoo trumpeting this film's release,) but in truth it's just not a very good movie and really should've been kept hidden indefinitely.
But, since George's name has a dollar value attached to it and he's no longer a meal ticket to certain people, it's not surprising that this "discovery" was plucked from its dark closet, hurriedly patched together (by the talented colorist of such complex works as Pawn Stars, no less,) and auctioned off to the highest bidder as a "lost" Romero classic.
But the fanboys will still throw money at it because it's "George A. Romero" and they couldn't care less about being bilked as long as their obsession is fed.
The things greedy people do to make money . . it gets no more shameful than this.
The Amusement Park comes across as an extended student film that tries to be clever but winds up being both predictable and dull. It doesn't help that the film's introduction basically tells you what you're about to see, making the viewing experience somewhat redundant, and the overblown in-your-face visuals combined with the non-stop cacophonous screaming on the soundtrack makes the 53 minute running time seem like a day and a half.
The "restoration" clearly ran out of money at some point as constant scratches and wildly uneven color balancing totally destroy any concentration the viewer might attempt - not that there's anything to really concentrate on. The bottom line is that it's a bombastic assault of both image and sound that's somehow supposed to indicate that society's elderly are getting a raw deal. And it fails spectacularly in attempting to communicate this sensitive theme.
It makes for nice marketing to imply that the film's financiers found the finished work to be too unsettling, gruesome, horrifying (all of which were used in the ballyhoo trumpeting this film's release,) but in truth it's just not a very good movie and really should've been kept hidden indefinitely.
But, since George's name has a dollar value attached to it and he's no longer a meal ticket to certain people, it's not surprising that this "discovery" was plucked from its dark closet, hurriedly patched together (by the talented colorist of such complex works as Pawn Stars, no less,) and auctioned off to the highest bidder as a "lost" Romero classic.
But the fanboys will still throw money at it because it's "George A. Romero" and they couldn't care less about being bilked as long as their obsession is fed.
The things greedy people do to make money . . it gets no more shameful than this.