Writer(s): Piero Regnoli
Starring: Karin Well, Gianluigi Chirizzi, Simone Mattioli, and Peter Bark
I saw Burial Ground (aka Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror) once as a teenager, and was immediately enthralled by its complete lack of plot, which felt exactly like the kinds of films I was attempting to write in school right around that time. I was never much into the time required to fully flesh out characters, and so my scripts would usually require the action to start well before the tenth page, or else I would quickly lose interest in it (I actually lost interest in just about all of them regardless...out of dozens of attempts, I only finished two or three, and they are awful by today's standards). Sure enough, here we are treated to a brief (five minutes or so) introduction that ever-so-vaguely hints at a cause for the ensuing zombie outbreak, another five minutes (or so) featuring characters meeting in a villa, and then the rest of the movie is survivors vs. zombies in an all-out zombie apocalypse.
I kind of have to give it some credit for that, because once the zombies start rising, the film never slows down or eases up on the survivors, who all tend to stand around until the last possible moment before fleeing from the oncoming hordes. Unfortunately, that's about all I can give it, because, while it manages to be entertaining for long stretches (unintentionally, of course, but “entertaining” nonetheless), there's very little talent on either side of the camera.
It clearly takes its queue from the sudden international success of Lucio Fulci's Zombie (which, in turn, took its queue from the sudden international success of George A. Romero's Dawn of the Dead). I've not made it a secret that I greatly admire Fulci's film--while still acknowledging it has more than its fair share of flaws—but what makes Fulci's vision work are the stupendous special effects. Sure, its characters are sublimely stupid, and unforgivably so, with the writers often having their characters stand “paralyzed with fear”, conveniently giving the incredibly-slow corpses time to shamble over and finish them off, but it worked because the make-up effects are still impressive to this day, while the gore effects just may be some of the best ever put to film.
Burial Ground is what would have happened had Fulci been a complete Z-grade director, with large chunks of screentime dedicated to lingering closeups of poorly made-up zombies slowly inching their way toward hapless victims, ear-piercing high-pitched synths often providing the sole musical backdrop for attack scenes (sounds made even more unbearable when seen in a theater, which I had the fortune of doing for the second viewing upon which this review is based). It has the feeling of a production that was shot and edited over the course of a single weekend, with only a day allotted for the atrocious English dubbing. The make-up effects, I suppose, are acceptable, but some of the zombies do look more humorous than scary, which offers up even more unintentional laughs. Meanwhile, the gore effects leave a lot to be desired, though many just consist of watching zombies tear out the insides of hapless victims, before gorging on their organs. It's appropriately disgusting, but the other effects are rare, generally weak and surprisingly tame.
The film would probably have slipped into complete cinematic limbo were it not for the random inclusion of a small child who is sexually obsessed with his mother. Played by 25-year-old Peter Bark, “Michael”, as he is known in the movie, has become a character of legend, with his likeness bearing T-shirts and other merchandise, even to this day. It shouldn't need to be said, but every sequence between Michael and his mother manages to be supremely uncomfortable, whether he's getting jealous as he watches her kiss his father (?), or attempting to feel her up as he makes out with her (?!); the infamous “climactic” scene between the two just may be one of the most nauseating scenes in movie history. (He does mostly redeem himself with one scene. Early on in the film, before the zombies attack, he grabs a random piece of cloth sitting on the floor, sniffs it, makes a weird face, shambles over to his mother, hands the cloth to her, and says, "Mother, this cloth smells of death!" I'd be lying if I didn't admit this is one of my favorite movie quotes of any film ever made.)
This is the kind of movie that will only appeal to a certain clique, and I cannot say that I am firmly entrenched within such a group. Sure, it has enough moments to keep you awake, but none of it could even remotely be classified as “gripping” or “suspenseful”. It's just an extreme cinematic cash grab, quickly written and shot so as to capitalize on the then-newfound explosion of the Italian zombie subgenre; seeing it in a theater only seems to heighten the amateurishness on display (while also magnifying the impact of the ridiculousness of it all). I have always admired it for its brazen lack of anything resembling a coherent story, but unfortunately when every other facet of the film suffers in a similar fashion, and the high point involves a weird-looking midget with a mommy fetish, there just isn't much there to recommend.
RATING: 3.5/10
I kind of have to give it some credit for that, because once the zombies start rising, the film never slows down or eases up on the survivors, who all tend to stand around until the last possible moment before fleeing from the oncoming hordes. Unfortunately, that's about all I can give it, because, while it manages to be entertaining for long stretches (unintentionally, of course, but “entertaining” nonetheless), there's very little talent on either side of the camera.
It clearly takes its queue from the sudden international success of Lucio Fulci's Zombie (which, in turn, took its queue from the sudden international success of George A. Romero's Dawn of the Dead). I've not made it a secret that I greatly admire Fulci's film--while still acknowledging it has more than its fair share of flaws—but what makes Fulci's vision work are the stupendous special effects. Sure, its characters are sublimely stupid, and unforgivably so, with the writers often having their characters stand “paralyzed with fear”, conveniently giving the incredibly-slow corpses time to shamble over and finish them off, but it worked because the make-up effects are still impressive to this day, while the gore effects just may be some of the best ever put to film.
Burial Ground is what would have happened had Fulci been a complete Z-grade director, with large chunks of screentime dedicated to lingering closeups of poorly made-up zombies slowly inching their way toward hapless victims, ear-piercing high-pitched synths often providing the sole musical backdrop for attack scenes (sounds made even more unbearable when seen in a theater, which I had the fortune of doing for the second viewing upon which this review is based). It has the feeling of a production that was shot and edited over the course of a single weekend, with only a day allotted for the atrocious English dubbing. The make-up effects, I suppose, are acceptable, but some of the zombies do look more humorous than scary, which offers up even more unintentional laughs. Meanwhile, the gore effects leave a lot to be desired, though many just consist of watching zombies tear out the insides of hapless victims, before gorging on their organs. It's appropriately disgusting, but the other effects are rare, generally weak and surprisingly tame.
The film would probably have slipped into complete cinematic limbo were it not for the random inclusion of a small child who is sexually obsessed with his mother. Played by 25-year-old Peter Bark, “Michael”, as he is known in the movie, has become a character of legend, with his likeness bearing T-shirts and other merchandise, even to this day. It shouldn't need to be said, but every sequence between Michael and his mother manages to be supremely uncomfortable, whether he's getting jealous as he watches her kiss his father (?), or attempting to feel her up as he makes out with her (?!); the infamous “climactic” scene between the two just may be one of the most nauseating scenes in movie history. (He does mostly redeem himself with one scene. Early on in the film, before the zombies attack, he grabs a random piece of cloth sitting on the floor, sniffs it, makes a weird face, shambles over to his mother, hands the cloth to her, and says, "Mother, this cloth smells of death!" I'd be lying if I didn't admit this is one of my favorite movie quotes of any film ever made.)
This is the kind of movie that will only appeal to a certain clique, and I cannot say that I am firmly entrenched within such a group. Sure, it has enough moments to keep you awake, but none of it could even remotely be classified as “gripping” or “suspenseful”. It's just an extreme cinematic cash grab, quickly written and shot so as to capitalize on the then-newfound explosion of the Italian zombie subgenre; seeing it in a theater only seems to heighten the amateurishness on display (while also magnifying the impact of the ridiculousness of it all). I have always admired it for its brazen lack of anything resembling a coherent story, but unfortunately when every other facet of the film suffers in a similar fashion, and the high point involves a weird-looking midget with a mommy fetish, there just isn't much there to recommend.
RATING: 3.5/10
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