Zombies, those strange ghouls, are an inseparable part of popular culture, constantly evolving and transforming over the course of history. The distant roots of this motif lie in African and Haitian religious beliefs, where zombies were defined as living beings, intoxicated and susceptible to the control of a priest who put them in a trance.
A bit later, in the African-American voodoo cult, they became dead beings, reanimated by a sorcerer or bokor, deprived of will and consciousness, turning into puppets in the hands of their master. Sounds like the perfect corporate employee, right?
These early visions of zombies had nothing to do with apocalyptic threats or a craving for human flesh and brains; they were tied to deep magical spells and control over life. Zombies symbolized fear of losing freedom and identity, as well as the desire to escape a life of servitude — kind of like Monday mornings.
The beginnings of zombies in cinema can be traced to films like White Zombie (1932) and The Raven (1935), inspired by folklore and depicting zombies as victims of black magic. But it was George A. Romero, the creator of the cult classic Night of the Living Dead (1968), who played a key role in transforming the motif, introducing meat-eating ghouls drawn from pre-Islamic Arab religion, which became synonymous with the term — zombie. A new type of undead appeared: contagious, aggressive, and hungry for human brains. At the same time, Romero established the zombie’s weak spot — only a precise shot to the head could kill it. Romero gave his zombies metaphorical significance, embedding critiques of consumer society, racism, war, and apathy within their characters. His zombies became not only bloodthirsty creatures hunting humans but also reflections of our deepest fears and social tensions. Zombies were an expression of anxiety for humanity’s future, threatened by its own greed, hatred, and indifference.
Since then, the zombie motif has taken many paths, adopting new traits and abilities. In early films, zombies were already hungry and dead, yet they moved slowly, so escaping them wasn’t much of a challenge. Some mutated by viruses became faster — as in 28 Days Later (2002). Others became more intelligent — as in Land of the Dead (2005). Some emerged from underground due to scientific experiments — as in Resident Evil (2002). Terrorist attacks, ecological disasters, or alien invasions — any excuse seemed enough to resurrect zombies on screen. Zombies reflected contemporary threats and problems, as well as a way to express opinions and attitudes about them — memes, only bloodier.
Continuously adapting to new cultural contexts, zombies now appear in forms previously unimaginable even to the most devoted fans. Zombies that can talk, think, organize in communities, or even be heroes add a new dimension to this iconic phenomenon. Warm Bodies (2013) and the series Santa Clarita Diet (2017) are examples of how versatile and flexible this motif can be. Zombies have been depicted as capable of emotions, change, and cooperation, and even as a source of humour and romance. Yes, romance. Because nothing warms the heart quite like a kiss from the undead.
In reality, zombies have become a universal medium, allowing the telling of different stories and conveying diverse messages. On one hand, they are monsters threatening life; on the other, they are mirrors reflecting our deepest fears, dreams, and fantasies. Do we shape them in the image of our darkest desires, or do they reflect us? Maybe they are simply a reflection of our reality. This question is one of the fascinating aspects of the evolution of zombies in mass consciousness. Zombies are not just entertainment; they are also a way to understand ourselves and the world we live in. And if not — at least they give us an excuse to legally run around a shopping mall with an axe.