1. We’ve seen The Walking Dead.

And it’s better.

2. People aren’t that stupid.

When the naked guy in Miami ate somebody’s face, the Internet tuned in. Even the CDC has put out a tongue-in-cheek guide to surviving the zombie apocalypse. The fact that everyone in L.A. except Tobias is in lala land stretches suspense of disbelief past the snapping point.

3. The characters are bland.

I neither like them nor hate them, so their fate fails to engage me, except maybe on a purely humanistic level of not wishing ill to others others. The main characters don’t seem fleshed out.

Madison—scarier than the zombies. She’s been enabling her sad sack son for years, and now she’s facilitating torture. This woman is proof that the public school system needed an overhaul. Oh, and let’s not forget that she cut a hole in the fence.

Travis—irritating. After five seasons, we know that the Dales of the apocalyptic world don’t make it. Trevor’s hesitation is foolhardy, naïve, and frankly, annoying. His selfish, guilt-ridden desire to blend his disparate, dysfunctional family is the catalyst to the debacle at the hospital.

Nick—a user in every sense. Come on, who’s going to cheer on a kid who steals opiates from a woman dying from gangrene?

Alicia—she thinks dressup will make it all better. Has no one taught these infantile teens about boundaries?

Christopher—his only dimension is anger, spiked by outrage.

Liza—dead (not living) proof that a self-sacrificing nature yields no reward.

Daniel—not even a good antihero. It’s a challenge to identify with a veteran torture expert who unleashes a horde to kill hundreds as a solution to saving three, two of whom are doomed.

Ofelia—unbelievable, with murky motives.

Griselda—stayed flat; now stiff.

4. The political subtext falls flat.

It’s cheesy to hint at “all lives matter” in an encounter between police and a zombie. Such a scene demeans the cause behind those riots.

5. The first season’s pace is slower than TWD Well-Boy trudging through a river of mud.

I grew up in the Philadelphia suburbs, where every week I was glued like coagulated blood to Dr. Shock’s Horror Theater (pronounced “thee-dur” in the appropriate Philly accent).  The host would sign in with “Let there be fright!”

I still love the genre; I even taught a film seminar on horror movies.  The movies on this list had me frozen to the flickering black and white screen.

Carnival of Souls (1962)—now a cult film.  Its camera work is very German expressionist. The organ score’s riveting, and the scene in the abandoned amusement park is such stuff as nightmares are made on.  I know that because I still dream about it.

Dead of Night (1945) is a British horror anthology. House party attendees entertain with tales of a hearse driver, a Christmas party, a haunted mirror, a golf game, and (most disturbing) a ventriloquist’s dummy. (Note this one predates Twilight Zone by many years.) Some notable actors appear, including Michael Redgrave and Sally Ann Howe.

The Haunting (1963) –not the regrettable remake, but the original black and white Robert Wise movie with Julie Harris. I still won’t sleep with my hand sticking out from under the covers for fear something will hold it in the night, in the dark . . . .  This film is based on the Shirley Jackson novel. (You probably had to read her short story “The Lottery” at one time.)

La invasión de los vampiros  (1963) The American version is dubbed, and badly at that, but the black and white cinematography is both expressionistic and atmospheric. Two scenes still haunt me. In the opening sequence, villagers anxiously wait for night. One foolhardy man trails a mysterious woman in white who glides into town, through the woods, and past an eerie lake, where she strips and we see her bare feet step into the water—before an agonized scream rents the soundtrack. The second scene burned into my brain comes near the end, when the hero spears Count Frankenhausen (yes, really). At the moment of his death,  his victims (who too have been staked) rise from their coffins and surround the hacienda. The worst part is the dead call out to those trapped inside.

Invisible Invaders (1959) with John Agar and John Carradine. This movie came out ten years before Romero’s Night of the Living Dead.  Invisible aliens inhabit human corpses. The subtext is the threat of communism and nuclear holocaust, but that scene near the end where the dead surround the bunker scarred my childhood.