After returning to the zombie-flick fold after a 20-year hiatus between 1985's classic Day of the Dead and 2005's serviceable-if-too-slick Land of the Dead, George Romero seems to have regained much of his original steam. However, he seems to be plagued by a desire to simply make films versus his original desire to only make immortal films (pun intended). Diary of the Dead plays on a certain level as self-parody, as Romero indulges all of the tired horror tropes such as the petulant-yet-ultimately-loving girlfriend, the minor character traumatized to insanity, the alcoholic professor with a predilection toward dispensing "sage" non-sequiturs, etc., that his previous films so deftly avoided. Whether this is intentional is immaterial, as the contrivance merely grates rather than providing ironic distance. Ultimately, the most realistic part of Diary of the Dead is the zombie MacGuffin, and only because its authenticity is via fiat. For the money, rent a copy of Dawn of the Dead and prepare to be amazed. RH