There's a certain type of person in this world. Hardworking. Keeps their head down. They play by the rules and generally cause no trouble. We classify them as "good" or "decent," but for the most part pay them no mind. For whatever reason though they can't seem to catch a break. It's like they're magnets for humanity's cruelest behavior, be it random acts of senseless rudeness from strangers or full-on bullying from the people in their everyday life. No matter how much they get walked on though they never raise much of a fuss. They just dust themselves off and keep going. Henry Creedlow is one of those people. Nobody notices him, his wife is cheating on him with his monster of a boss, and his best friend is stealing from him. One day after suffering all this abuse he wakes up to find his face has transformed into a featureless mask. Now without a chance of having a normal life anymore he decides to take revenge on those who have done him wrong. Naturally, this is a pretty problematic story. Especially nowadays when an increasingly large portion of the population feel frustrated to the point where it seems like there's a new mass shooting or riot occuring every other week. It's essentially saying that the only way to get acknowledgement and respect in this world is through violence. You can try to spin this another way and say the film is actually critiquing this thought process, but I think the ending makes it pretty clear what the message really is. Questionable morals aside, this is one of the most fascinating works in George Romero's filmography. It's filled with a lot of unconventional stylistic choices that imbue this slasher with the ambience of a piece of classic '50s film noir. Such as the soundtrack which is an eclectic mix of orchestral, classical, and jazz music. While these flourishes are compelling enough to have maintained my attention and interesting until the credits rolled however, the overall experience fell just short of clicking with me for a few reasons. The primary one being it kind of misses the mark in the horror department. Romero never makes the imagery as creepy as it could have been. The protagonist also isn't very menacing, as we the audience are constantly reminded that despite his unsettling new appearance he's still only a regular guy which prevents him from ever being scary. Perhaps you could argue that the real terror is supposed to come from the man's tragic situation, rather than the man himself like in something a little more gothic. If that is the case, unfortunately the tonal inconsistencies muck things up there as well. Bruiser is a bit too playful for its own good. Watching Peter Stormare run around in a coked-up state and the absolute circus that is the final act are certainly entertaining, but they keep things from getting as dark and moody as they needed to be. It may not rank near the top of his body of work with me personally, but many of the qualities that made Romero such an icon are yet present making it worth watching if you're a fan. His pessimistic worldview created another one of a kind, twisted vision here. It just has a problem similar to that of Survival of the Dead where it tries to go for schlocky and fun, which undermines the seriousness of the material.