A zombie movie just isn't a zombie movie without endless close-ups of rotting flesh, idiot lead characters incapable of summoning even the most basic of survival skills, and a brief subplot involving incest. Well, at least this is the type of unusual viewing experience "Burial Ground: Nights of Terror" (originally released in 1981) offers to hungry genre fans. An undeniably sluggish though pleasingly wacky gore show, the film is ripe with peculiarities and amusing inconsistencies, almost enough to make up for the complete lack of suspense. Almost. Nothing cuts the boredom of a flaccid zombie stomp quite like a creepy young boy coming on to his bewildered, not yet entirely disapproving mother. It's that type of insanity that makes a forgettable picture into something one wants to share with the world.
When a respected professor stumbles upon a major scientific discovery inside a local crypt, his insatiable curiosity accidentally unleashes the dead from their eternal slumber, permitting the damned access to a feast of flesh above ground. Traveling to meet with their academic pal at his palatial Italian villa, a group of friends (including Karin Well, Antonella Antinori, Mariangelo Giordano, and Gianluigi Chirizzi) gathers to enjoy a long weekend of fine foods, camaraderie, and fornication. Instead of leisure, the gang is faced with a vicious zombie stampede, spending the next 24 hours attempting to escape the cursed grounds and locate a safe haven.
"Burial Ground" (the print actually carries the title "The Nights of Terror") was one of the many zombie pictures to rise up in the wake of George Romero's 1978 classic, "Dawn of the Dead," joining a special subgenre of Italian grindhouse efforts intended to cash in on a phenomenon, happily dishing up intense, gruesome violence and flashes of nudity. American knock-offs surely had their way with matters of the undead, but nothing comes close to the Italians, who seized the gruesome possibilities of the genre, creating some of the most inventively vile and dramatically surreal shockers of the late 1970s and early 1980s. These fine European moviemaking professionals loved to make a mess.
Director Andrea Bianchi (1987's "Maniac Killer") doesn't serve up the most inspired gore zone effort with "Burial Ground," but his commitment to the lurching, unstoppable approach of the zombies is laudable. The film is unspeakably slow for the most part (practically a still frame during a few scenes of zombie emergence), trusting the inherent terror of the undead walking around the premises will be more than enough to compensate for the lack of story, characterization, and pace. A tighter dramatic grip would've been nice (not an unreasonable request), yet the lumbering zombies, their iffy latex masks covered in squirming maggots and sticky fake blood, do manage to entertain in a special slo-mo fashion. In "Burial Ground," these ghouls from the grave are smarter than the average screen demon, able to adapt their plan of attack when the humans lunge for guns and tools of defense, often teaming up to snatch their dim-witted victims. One ghoul even has the ability to throw rail spikes around, literally nailing an unfortunate soul to the wall. They're ugly, hunger for the meaty flavor of gooey guts, and they never stop moving. "Burial Ground" may frequently bore, but the fundamental prowl of the zombies satisfies, best sold with a cast of spastic, screaming Italian thespians overreacting to every single reveal.
If immobility while facing easily escapable doom were an Olympic sport, these characters would be gold medalists.
There's a routine of pursuit and death to "Burial Ground" that's established early, making the movie one extended day of violent zombie encounters. The cast performs adequately, delivering hysterics with eye-bulging passion, making sure to sell the horror with pathetic jogging abilities and the occasional bout of baffling instinct paralysis (a genre staple). The real curiosity here is actor Peter Bark, a 25-year-old dwarf playing the young, spooky son of Evelyn (Mariangela Giordano). Cast for his unnerving looks and general odd manner, the script takes Bark a step further halfway through the feature, introducing an Oedipal urge within the "child" that gives "Burial Ground" a startling kick in the face. The fleeting blast of monumental perversion wakes the film up, making the final 30 minutes less about watching lethargic zombies attack and more about patiently waiting for the next hit of unsavory behavior to emerge from out of nowhere (and there's more breast-chomping ick in the final moments). I have no idea what the producers were thinking with this addition to the story, but I must admit the queasy revelation certainly revives interest in the picture. A curiosity to see what could possibly come next.
The AVC encoded image (1.66:1 aspect ratio, 1080p) presentation is perhaps the best this low-budget cult picture is ever going to look on home video, though there are sizable flaws that keep the natural grit of the filmmaking from surfacing. There's a powerful grain element visible to sustain a cinematic quality, with occasional mosquito noise issues coming into view. Clarity is soft throughout, diluting crisp views of the macabre elements, though color is sturdy, highlighting a generous push of reds. Skintones are pinkish to natural, revealing heavy movie make-up on several of the actresses. There's a minor amount of crush that flattens the evening sequences and print damage is detected during the presentation, but not nearly as much as expected. It's a comfortable transfer for a cult item, never remarkable, delivering screen elements with a slightly feral edge.
The 2.0 DTS-HD MA sound mix is a moderately thick frontal assault that suits the picture's low-budget imagination. A collection of shocks, stingers, and screams, the shrillness of the audio tends to grate on the ears when whipped into larger frenzy, with more horrifying encounters sounding thin, while verbal exchanges (all dubbed) find a more grounded human quality, though lacking crispness. Scoring is hearty without smothering the moment, supporting the film with a weird jazzy/stalker musical impression that stays alert and predictably choppy throughout the feature. Low-end lacks heft.
Interviews with producer Gabriele Cristani (11:01) and actress Mariangela Giordano (9:02) are quite valuable, as any background information on this odd film is desperately needed. Moneyman Cristani seems a little dismissive of the movie, doling out several backstage anecdotes while wearing a pronounced grimace. He doesn't look like a man proud of his involvement with the chiller. Giordano is a more animated interviewee, excitedly answering questions about on-set mood, stunt mishaps (including a dangerous fire gag), and her own feelings about the questionable material. Her memory isn't the strongest, but her enthusiasm is endearing.
Outtakes (9:30) is a rambling collection of lost moments, presented here without sound (BD producers assure viewers dialogue isn't necessary to enjoy the clips). Most of these trims concern chatty road trip interactions, some additional bedroom sensuality, and further shots of the glacial zombie uprising.
Gallery (6:21) displays various poster and home video art (selling the picture in a spectacularly gruesome fashion), along with marketing and press kit materials.
"Burial Ground" isn't a tight movie, but the basics in cheapy gore and groan are supplied effectively, best appreciated by horror fanatics who've had the opportunity to slip in a nap before sitting down for a viewing. I was never won over by the picture, but the goopy particulars of the bloodletting and the crude elements of the make-up effects are enjoyable. A few sicko, pervy twists only help the sleepy cause.
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