The Amusement Park

It’s hard to grade or review this in the same way as one would a regular movie, as it isn’t a regular movie. George Romero was commissioned as an educational film about elder abuse by a religious institution. As such, it’s designed to deliver a message in a certain, accessible way. But this is George Romero, so he wasn’t going to do it without applying his unique flair. And that’s where the problem lies. The movie is book-ended with the only real actor in the movie, Lincoln Maazel, delivering a monologue on the indignities the elderly face in the twilight years. He’s dressed and coiffed in such a way as to look like Orson Welles. It’s very odd. From there, a disheveled, beaten, bloodied old man (Maazel) meets a cleaner, more hopeful version of himself. The hopeful version wants to go outside into the amusement park; the broken version can barely express himself to warn the other version not to go outside, for there is nothing out there. Of course, the hopeful version doesn’t listen and we follow him into the amusement park. Romero wastes no time setting up that this bright, joyful world is hostile to the elderly. Literally every elderly you see has a cane, a walker, a wheelchair or crutches. They all look miserable, and if there’s anybody with them, it’s clear the elderly is being tended to out of obligation, not love. The Man visits a number of attractions, each designed to symbolize some way in which the elderly are ignored, mistreated, patronized, forgotten, or abused. In the bumper cars, The Man witnesses an accident where an elderly couple rear-ends a younger man. The younger man signaled left but turned right. The cops patronize the couple, even after The Man gives corroborating testimony, and their insurance man says no matter how it comes out, they’re facing a rate increase. Rides are closed to people with health conditions normally found in the old, except one place that is designed for them; it turns out to be a rest home, filled with physical therapists going through the motions to keep the old people “active” but without actually doing anything. At a sidewalk cafe, a rich elderly person is treated to lobster and champagne and a cigar and personal service; The Man, on a budget, is given a plate of slop dropped on his table with no care at all. Other elderly folk who can’t even afford that watch on; he shares, but there isn’t enough to go around, so he tries to buy groceries at a shop. He can’t carry them and no one will help him. Later on, he says hello to some kids, and is accused of being a “degenerate”. After taking a beating from some hooligans, he seeks first aid; they don’t want to deal with his insurance, so he has to pay cash, but gets shuffled out as quick as possible with a bandage and a cane. Con men take advantage of the elderly people, selling them stuff they don’t need. By the end, broken, bloodied, disheveled, he wanders back into the white room, the opening scene repeating but now from the other side. When the hopeful version leaves, it lingers on the broken version, as he struggles to say there’s nothing out there worth it. It’s dark, it’s real (even for a movie made in the early 70’s) … and it’a also relentless, not entertaining at all, and the symbolism is just so awkward. I get Romero was hired to do this, so he couldn’t go full-on subtext. But the use of symbolism and metaphor here is sometimes so on the nose, it’s silly. It’s like how a kid uses hyperbole; exaggerated and without restraint. The symbolism here is the same way, and it makes for an ill fit given the intent of this film. I’ll give it that it’s well made, unsettling, and watching The Man slowly ground down until his final emotional breakdown is sad and effective. But it’s also just too much of one thing, leaving the viewer more exhausted than upset.