By Ben Bussey
There’s nothing too out of the ordinary about being left disappointed by a low budget indie horror movie from a largely unknown cast and crew. However, there’s a particularly bitter sting to this sensation when the film in question shows so much promise, and ticks so many of your personal boxes for what should constitute a hugely entertaining horror. The third movie from writer-director Ari Kirschenbaum, Grave Walkers (formerly entitled Live Evil, presumably retitled to avoid confusion with the 2009 movie of the same name and/or the Black Sabbath live album) is a film which, on paper, seems almost custom designed to my tastes: it’s a colourful, supernatural spook-a-blast filled with skull-faced, luminescent-eyed demonic zombies facing off against wisecracking, gun-toting cops, with an extremely groovy soundtrack, and a few gratuitous tit shots thrown in for good measure. All things I appreciate; and at times, it’s enough. Yet by the time the end credits roll, it’s hard not to be thoroughly underwhelmed with the past 90-odd minutes.
It’s Halloween night in small town America, and as ever the sleepy local Sheriff’s department don’t expect too much trouble. Naturally, they’re wrong, as Deputy Hancock (Charlene Amoia) is called out to a local mansion to find a party which has somehow turned into a bloodbath, and the naked form of a woman from her past, whom she’s less than pleased to see – not least because Hancock knows her to be dead. On taking the silent woman back to the station house, it transpires that everyone who sees her sees someone different, and in every case it’s someone they hate and fear from earlier in their lives. This leads to nightmarish visions and paranoid outbreaks which sorely test the sanity of the local law enforcers – and, as things get worse, build toward a mass outbreak of bizarre and life-threatening paranormal phenomena.
It soon becomes clear that the biggest problem with Grave Walkers may also be its principal strength: it’s a very ambitious production, realised on clearly limited resources. From the first moments there’s an odd contrast, as an admirably sharp-looking opening titles sequence gives way to somewhat flatter DV cinematography once the main action kicks in. The film also flits between monochrome and colour for reasons which are not readily apparent, and splits the action up into seven ‘chapters’ with slightly ostentatious titles; evocative of the likes of Kill Bill and/or Clerks, perhaps, but it still comes off a tad pretentious. There’s also quite a lot going on in terms of plot and character, with a pretty substantial central ensemble of law enforcers, convicts and assorted locals, most of whom have their own little stories going on, not to mention the fairly complex demonic mythology underpinning the whole thing. Kirschenbaum is to be admired for not leaving things simple, and wanting to keep the audience on their toes – but there’s no avoiding the sense that he and his team have bitten off more than they can chew.
As the two central good guys, Charlene Amoia and Vladimir Kulich make for competent leads, and we have a decent if brief cameo from the ever-reliable Tony Todd. Beyond this, however, the casting is variable; some actors just feel too far too am-dram to really get the job done, whilst others – most notably the two college metalhead-looking guys portraying the mysterious villains high on the FBI’s most wanted list – are plainly and simply miscast. The film is clearly also aiming to offer up a great visual spectacle, and while there are some shots and sequences which work, overall it’s a very awkward blend of overly glossy CGI and rather more mediocre practical work; digitally adding flies, smoke and glowing eyes will only go so far to distract from what are clearly simple rubber masks. If they’d had practical make-up to rival that of, say, James Sizemore’s The Demon’s Rook, it might have just about worked. Then again, Sizemore also had the good sense to simply allude to a broader demonic universe behind his story, rather than piling on the exposition as Kirschenbaum does here.
All in all, then, Grave Walkers is a let down, but it does have at least one bona fide ace up its sleeve; the soundtrack by Shawn Lee. It would have been easy for this film to wind up with another of those Carpenteresque synth scores which are rapidly becoming ten a penny; instead, Lee presents a largely psychedelic, full band-driven soundtrack reminiscent of Goblin and Fabio Frizzi at their funkiest – but still with a few synth-driven passages worked in. Hugely endearing, toe-tapping stuff – even if it’s not enough to make up for the film’s other problems.
Grave Walkers is out now on UK DVD and digital download, from Matchbox Films.