Receiving its world premiere at the CineVegas Film Festival, "Land of the Dead" is the fourth movie in what was originally a trilogy, beginning with 1968's seminal "Night of the Living Dead," the movie that has inspired a couple of generations of filmmakers.

The latest installment could well be Romero's masterpiece. Taking full advantage of state-of-the-art makeup and visual effects, he has a more vivid canvas at his disposal, not to mention two decades worth of pent-up observations about American society.

Even those walking dead have learned a thing or two in the interim.

Romero's legion of fans as well as those who like an allegory with the emphasis on the gory will likely show their appreciation by stalking the theaters in droves, giving Universal a very lively opening weekend, while enthusiastic word-of-mouth could give those zombies some legs.

Having staggered their way through "Dawn of the Dead" and "Day of the Dead," it's apparent those ever-growing masses of "walkers" have started to develop an appetite for more than just fresh flesh.

Following the grunting lead of Big Daddy (Eugene Clark), an imposing gas station attendant, the living dead have begun to sort of re-enact their once-normal lives prior to their affliction.

Meanwhile, the remaining affluent and powerful among the living have fortified themselves in an ivory tower -- a luxury complex called Fiddler's Green, which effectively looks down upon the less fortunate of the city's inhabitants who struggle to survive in the dangerous streets.

It's all the domain of the powerful Kaufman (Dennis Hopper), a slick CEO who keeps himself sequestered in the Green while hiring a group of mercenaries, led by Riley (Simon Baker) and his second-in-command, Cholo (John Leguizamo), to run retrieval missions beyond the electrified fences for luxury items.

But even as they plow their way through the armies of "stenches" in a massive armored vehicle called Dead Reckoning, there's an unstoppable unrest brewing among the dead and the living alike that's about to reach a boiling point.

Although Romero ventured outside his native Pittsburgh to shoot this one in Toronto, it's very clear, from the flag-waving vigilantes to the anti-terrorist rhetoric spewed by Hopper's big-money operator, that most criticisms are being leveled due south of the border.

But those familiar with Romero's work know that doesn't mean they're in for a Michael Moore diatribe. The horror show is still the main attraction, and "Land of the Dead" delivers the goods in harrowing, visceral heaps.

Bolstered by a talented cast that also includes Asia Argento as a tough cookie ex-hooker who joins Baker's entourage, the film never skimps on atmosphere, which at times verges on the horrifically poetic.

Adding to the uncompromising effect is Miroslaw Baszak's night-drenched cinematography, Michael Doherty's tight edit and a pulse-pounding score by Reinhold Heil and Johnny Klimek.

Land of the Dead
Universal
Universal Pictures and Atmosphere Entertainment MM present a Mark Canton-Bernie Goldmann and Romero-Grunwald production in association with Wild Bunch

OK, maybe it doesn't quite conjure up that feeling that audiences once got from seeing a new Spencer Tracy-Katharine Hepburn movie. But George A. Romero's Land of the Dead does have an "old friends" dimension that warms the heart as its familiar-looking zombies eat hearts — plus other delicacies ripped from the bodies of screaming victims.

This new graduating class of Dead are neither red- nor blue-state zombies, but you do feel they're at least marginally politicized. Certainly, they're disenfranchised: In the supremely up- scale and mostly water-surrounded "Fiddler's Green," community string-puller Dennis Hopper sits in a penthouse office and smarmily looks down on practically everyone, but especially these approaching marauders.

What the water doesn't accomplish as a barricading device, electric fences do. But with much of the continent already taken over by zombies, you sense that Hopper isn't prone to hum the Rolling Stones' Time Is on My Side .

Much of the movie, which is punctuated by a couple of good jolts and occasionally thrilling overhead shots, deals with whether Hopper's Dead-combating mercenaries will or will not heed his increasingly hysterical orders.

The mouthiest of these subordinates is played by John Leguizamo, an actor who has just endured those blood-soaked grosses from The Honeymooners . And now, like all the rest of Dead 's un -dead, he always has to look over his shoulder because this is a movie where someone can't even rob a deserted liquor store without getting bitten by a zombie.

For all Leguizamo's efforts, snob Hopper slurs his ethnicity. So you can imagine how potentate Hopper regards the zombies.

Along for the ride are Australian actor Simon Baker, Asia Argento (daughter of famed horror/thriller director Dario) and Robert Joy, whose disfigured face here makes Al Pacino's Scarface look like someone who just needs a dab of Clearasil.

On the zombie front, we have a couple of marauders who carry musical instruments, one in pom-pom cheerleader garb — nice touch, George — and one played by my USA TODAY colleague Susan Wloszczyna, who wrote a story about being an extra.

Limiting Land 's potency is its appearance just a year after being fabulously spoofed in Shaun of the Dead , which battled it out with Team America: World Police for the title of being 2004's funniest. It's fairly solid fun, though, without breaking any new ground, just as January's remake of Assault on Precinct 13 was.

As ever, though, it's not much of a "concessions" movie — and this at a time when exhibitors need all the help they can get.