SHITTY FLICKS - BURIAL GROUND: THE NIGHTS OF TERROR

Shitty Flicks is an ongoing column that celebrates the most hilariously incompetent, amusingly pedestrian, and mind-bogglingly stupid movies ever made by people with a bit of money, some prior porn-directing experience, and no clue whatsoever. It is here you will find unrestrained joy in movies meant to terrify and thrill, but instead poke at your funny bone with their weird, mutant camp-girl penis.

WARNING: I tend to give away major plot points and twist endings in my reviews because, whatever. Shut up.

Released in Italy in the early 80’s as Le Notti Del Terrore, this Italian grindhouse trashterpiece is hailed as such for one reason and one reason only: a midget thespian named Peter Bark. But, we’ll get to that in a few minutes.

An archeologist digs below in a crater, his beard the size of a small inland. Heavy Beard, human name being Professor Ayres, narrates to us about “the incredible secret” that only he knows about. What this secret is remains that way, because the narration abruptly stops.

In the crypt, or whatever he’s in, he begins to hammer away at a section of rock, but oh no! He is immediately accosted by large, sweater-wearing zombies that he mistakenly unleashed earlier in the dig.

"It's Tuesday, beard. You know what that means.
Wrasslin' time."

“Stay back, I am you friend!” he lies, trying to save his beard from their gnashing teeth. The zombies fall on him and remove healthy sections of his abdomen and feast on warm man meat.

We immediately cut to our title, complemented by some amusing and mood-breaking light flute jazz, and then we meet a small family. They pull their car through some fancy schmancy gates and stop outside a glorious villa, followed by a few other cars containing their friends.

Master of the house, George, makes idle chatter with his house staff as his wife, Evelyn, and their freak-looking son, Michael—who is supposed to be ten but looks the wrong kind of 30—walk into the house. It’s clear that a freak adult (Peter Bark!) has been cast as a child, but what’s not clear is why…at least for now. He then goes to bed, I guess, since he's a real child, you know. And not a freak adult man.

In the next room, James and Leslie make immediate whoopee and then begin a fuck session after Leslie parades around in her skimpy little sex outfit.

"You look just like a little whore, but I like that," James says romantically. Leslie doesn't seem to mind, because why would she? Don't be such a square.

And speaking of fuck sessions, George and Mommy Evelyn have one too.

During their show, the door to their bedroom is thrown violently open, and the shadow of a figure grows larger and larger, soon so big that any second one might expect a shuffling monster six feet high to enter.

And a monster sorta does.

It’s Michael, their freak son.

“Mommy,” he cries, spying her delicious body.

“Michael, get back in bed!” she responds, and instead of merely staying in the bed to cover herself from her son’s eyes, she jumps out of bed, buck naked, and runs halfway across the room to sloppily throw on her clothes, all the while revealing even more breasts and vagigi.

Michael flees the room to jerk away this sight.

MAN CHILD FREAK THING is available for parties,
bar-mitzvahs, job conferences, and terror.

 

And yet in another room over, Janet begins hastily packing her suitcase and crying.

“We’re all in danger!” she bellows, as her husband, Mark, tries to calm her. What scary event that preceded this scene to lead to such behavior remains momentarily non-existent, but after a bit of bullshit, we find it’s because she had suffered a nightmare of their impending doom. Mark quickly allays her fears, probably with his cock.

And in the next room over, lazy ghouls in their comfortable looking over-sized wardrobe shuffle to the exit of their tomb to see if they could find one of those all-night men to eat.

Gathered in the dining room, everyone discusses their night of sleep, as freak son Michael complains about being cooped up in the house and wishes to go outside. Soon all the couples disperse to explore the ground, and Michael stares freakly as they go.

Mark and Janet—the ones plagued with nightmares of doom—romp around the bushes as the man takes photos of his wife.

“You’re getting to be quite the model!” he says, laying the foundation for a boner joke.

“Then you getter give me a raise,” she says, accepting this groundwork of the boner joke and facilitating its path to a flaccid punch line.

“Oh, I’m giving you a raise all right, but it’s nothing to do with money,” he says, seeing the boner joke through to its completion, all the while not amusing anyone on Earth.

I’m sure it sounded much more romantic in Italian.

Inside the mansion, Nicolas and Kathy—the house staff—look spooked as all the light fixtures blink on and off, and then begin to explode.

Why those freak occurrences?

Beats me.

Maybe someone in this movie would have a clue if they weren’t all busy having clothes-on sex outside.

Speaking of clothes-on sex outside, Mark is still busy squeezing his wife’s ass, so he remains ignorant of the zombie who is pulling itself from the wormy ground to begin its painfully slow attack on them. It grabs Mark, who easily kicks himself free, and as the couple skirts backwards along the ground, the zombie doesn’t move a solitary inch, merely watching them recoil in fear.

“It’s a walking corpse!” cries Mark.

“I’m terrified!” cries Janet.

They flee back to the house as their robed and rotted adversaries slowly follow.

Back in the house’s cellar, George shows off the mansion’s statue collection to Evelyn—and then promptly shoots at them with his trusty handgun. We’re not sure why. Stupid wops.

“Mommy, this cloth smells of DEATH!” Michael oddly cries, having picked up an old rag off the ground.

“You have the strangest ideas,” Mommy states, moments before zombies burst in on them.

George takes aim with his gun and fires, shooting holes in all of their canvas outfits. Naturally, the zombies don’t die, their wounds emitting spurts of chocolate.

"George, I'm sorry... We ate all the pancakes."

Mommy and Michael flee as George gives all of his organs to the zombies.

Meanwhile, James and Leslie, busy necking and moaning out in the bushes, also remain unaware of the zombfoolery going on just beyond a garden wall.

The woman spots zombie hands reaching over as she blathers in fear.

“It’s a joke!” cries James.

“No, they’re real!” cries Leslie.

They make a break for it.

Mark and Janet, still fleeing in fear, make it to the inner garden and slam the heavy stone doors behind them. Just when they think they’re home free, the woman dumbly gets caught in a bear trap. The pain is intense, but at least they got away from the zombies.

Oh wait, there they are.

Mark attacks them with a pitchfork, stabbing them one at a time. When that fails almost instantly, the zombie grabs the man and begins to strangle him. Amusingly, it almost looks as if the actor playing Mark grabs the hands of the zombie to make it look like they’re fighting each other, but may have been actually guiding the otherwise blind zombie actor’s hands directly to his throat.

Either that or tepid acting.

What do you think, audience?

Mark, bored with his life, decides to take a series of
"mostly bad-ass" pictures.

Luckily, James and Leslie show up with some decent rocks and smash the heads of the attackers, and we’re treated to some serious rock-on-skull damage in full, slow-mo close-up.

Back with mother and freak son, they continue to thwart attacks from their own small horde of ghouls.

Backed into a corner with some nearby paint supplies, freak son points at something and says, “Mommy, we can set it on fire!”

And that they do.

All the couples meet up and make it back into the main part of the house. Once inside, the house staff begins to talk excitedly of how the bulbs had flickered and exploded, yet not a single time do any of the others respond with, “Monsters tried to eat us.”

The boarding of windows and doors ensues as Kathleen the maid investigates the house to look for any more unguarded weak spots. Welp, she spots one, and when she leans ALL the way out to close the outdoor shutters, one of the zombies flings a spike into her hand, pinning her to the outside. With the aid of a convenient scythe, the maid loses her head into the awaiting hands of the ghouls.

They then all take turns kissing it with their teeth.

James discovers Kathy’s headless body, and after briefly mourning, tips her body up and out the window, feeding the zombies and securing his own place in Heaven. He then boards up the window as the zombies search the maid’s body for the wettest of foodstuffs.

The zombies arm themselves with various gardening tools—including axes—and begin to chop their way through the door.

Ravenna's most notorious of zombie frats was rounded up by police,

and despite their hellish reputation, they surrendered fairly quickly.

“They can only be killed by blowing their heads off!” James deduces, and begins doing just that.

“Give me some more cartridges,” he says to Leslie, and kills a few more. He shoots an impressive number of them, but since we’re never given a master shot of the attacking ghouls, we don’t know how many there are.

“Give me some more cartridges,” he says again to Leslie, but no need, it seems. The zombies turn and run off in fear, but in the way that zombies do it, so, slowly.

Thinking they are safe for the night, Leslie opts to aimlessly wander through the house, but that decision is rewarded with the smash of a window and the grabbing of her head.

By zombies.

The dastardly ghoul drags Leslie’s Play-Do face across the glass, cutting her up and killing her instantly.

The occupants in the house arm themselves with various blunt objects as the zombies finally smash their way in. Janet begins to desperately stab at one of the zombies, but obviously that results in nothing.

Luckily THE MEN show up and beat the zombie heads to smithereens.

Freak Michael gets trapped in the corner by one and he shrieks “Mommy!” in his freak adult voice.

Question: Seriously, since the movie is making a concerted effort to make Michael seem younger, and since the entire cast has to be dubbed into English anyway, why wouldn't you take this opportunity to dub his voice with that of a young boy?

Mommy kills the zombie, and Michael, obviously grateful, sits down with his Momma on a bench and does what any thankful son would do: goes for the tits.

“I need to touch you,” Michael coos. “When I was a baby, you used to hold me to your breast. I need your breasts so much, Momma.”

Momma, disgustingly receptive, is okay with this until he goes for the momgina. A single slap breaks them both out of this incestuous tryst.

“What’s wrong?! I’m your son!” he exclaims and runs off, his outburst the sterling definition of a paradox.

During the grossness, the men agree on a plan to escape and set it in motion, so Mommy Evelyn goes to retrieve Michael. She finds him in the bathroom, his insides somewhat splattered on the floor, but mostly splattered in the mouth of the recently resurrected Leslie.

Michael's parties were known for being
the best on campus, but they always seemed
to end the same way.

“My son!” she screams, slamming Leslie’s head repeatedly into a pipe until turning it to a goo egg.

The zombies use a battering ram to enter the house and they continue their pursuit of arrogant and incestuous Italians.

Nicolas the butler is sent on a quick assignment to gather some supplies, but instead of following through with that task, he figures it might be better to be eaten by a ghoul (the suddenly-appearing Professor Ayes)!

The group becomes separated once again as James chases what he thinks is a priest. Well, he’s half right. He stumbles into a large group of hooded men sitting around a table.

If you weren’t born sideways, it’s already obvious to you that these hooded figures eat people.

James is eaten fairly quickly and the ghouls once again go after the remaining survivors. James wakes up minutes later, eager for some of that greaseball flesh.

Janet, Kathleen, and Mark flee down a small path and stumble into what “looks like some kind of model-builder’s workshop."

Luckily, someone is there to greet them: zombie. Once again, these hapless fools find themselves surrounded by their ghoul adversaries, and as the women barricade the front door, Mark attacks the one behind them with what looks like a large bone. Instead of going for the head, which would work, he goes for the shoulder, which doesn’t. But no matter, Mark flips the ghoul over the stairway and it hurdles to the ground in completely unnecessary and awesome slow-mo.

And just when things can’t get any more horrifying, Michael shows up! Evelyn welcomes him into her arms as Mark screams, “Don’t touch him! He’s a zombie!”

Michael, eye-level with Evelyn’s breasts, unleashes those beauties from her blouse.

“Oh, yes, Michael. Just like when you were a baby. Go on, Michael. You used to love it, so.”

Mark and Janet, despite the ghouls hammering their way in to eat them, still need to stop, understandably so, and just wonder what the fuck it is with those two.

Michael, sucking on Mommy’s boobs, takes a nice bite, borrowing a nipple for just a short time, as the rest of the zombies attack Mark and Janet.

And THAT'S why they cast a 30-year-old freak man boy thing for this role—he's gotta get tits in his mouth.

And, you know, the movie ends with everyone having just a really good time:

Michael continues to chew on his Mommy’s boobs.

Evelyn dies from being a nippleless pervert mother.

Mark gets shoved into a table saw.

Janet is torn apart.

And the ghouls go back to Macy's and return their sweaters because they're just way too big.

ABC MONSTERS

ABC monsters from La Pompadour on Vimeo.

SLIT

Children walking alone at night may encounter a woman wearing a surgical mask. The woman will stop the child and ask, "Am I beautiful?" If the child answers no, the woman kills them with a pair of scissors. If they answer yes, the woman pulls away the mask, revealing that her mouth is slit from ear to ear and asks, "Even like this?" If the child answers no, they will be cut in half. If they answer yes, then she will slit their mouth like hers.

VINDICATION

MENTAL HEALTH DAY

DARK WORLD

 

“Call me Count Zakula—Banisher of Evil.”

Sigh.

I really wanted to like this book. The potential was definitely there—it’s about ghosts, abandoned places, and Zak Bagans. Three things I love! But it’s that third thing that’s the problem. Really, Dark World: Into the Shadows with the Lead Investigator of the "Ghost Adventures" Crew, is a paradox. People previously unfamiliar with Zak Bagans and his uber-successful Travel Channel show "Ghost Adventures" would likely not give this book a second glance. For a general reader in the mood for “non-fiction” looks at the paranormal, there are hundreds of books out there on the subject. The Demonologist, for one. No, the ideal audience for Dark World would be those already quite familiar with Bagans et al. And that’s where the disappointment lies. Have you been following "GA" since the first season? Are you a devoted fan? Seen every episode? Then sadly, this book is not going to offer you much of anything new.

The book starts off strongly enough: Zak gets into more detail about the original haunting in his Michigan apartment—the haunting that set him on his current quest. To my knowledge he’s never been as explicit in his details in regards to this anywhere else. His recollection of the event is interesting and even a little chilling. Added to that, Zak talks about himself personally—his own upbringing, places he’s lived, and his own non-paranormal fears (he once had a people phobia—no bullshit!) He even name-drops his favorite movie (Bram Stoker’s Dracula). This, too, was pretty interesting; it’s a side of himself he’s never uncovered before on the show. It humanized him in a way—it was a nice counter to the overly-tattooed, somewhat ego-maniacal TV persona who runs around in tight black shirts and openly talks to ghosts like he’s about to punch them in the face.

Once all that “about me” stuff is out of the way, however, is where the problems begin. While Zak is clearly passionate about what he does, and what he believes in, his attempts to relay his experiences with the paranormal do nothing more than hark back to episodes of "Ghost Adventures" with which we've been made previously familiar. He relays instances at Sloss Furnace, Moundsville Penitentiary, and the Goldfield Hotel—places we’ve already been.

But that’s not the only problem. Zak provides information to the reader with the assumption that they have no knowledge of the paranormal, so some of it can be a little dry. Entire sections of the book are dedicated to orbs, mists, residual hauntings, intelligent hauntings, etc, etc, and after a while you begin to lose interest. I’m not suggesting this information isn’t important, because it is—they are all touchstones of paranormal investigation. But a red pen would have been a huge help in paring down some of the less-important details in order to keep the text flowing. Once you’re on your sixth straight page about orbs—floating balls of energy that may or may not be ghosts—you start to tune out a bit.

The last issue I had with the book was its “voice”—and this is where I think most fans of the book would be split. The book is very conversational in tone, which most fans of Zak’s would prefer, as that’s why they’re reading the thing in the first place. While he does utilize some of the same flowery language he uses on his show, it’s mostly pretty down to earth and simple to follow. Because of this, it’s an easy read. My qualm with this choice is that, again, like his show, you either like Zak or you don’t. As I once previously shared on this blog, a friend of mine who is way into paranormal shows once said that Zak was “kind of a tool.” I don’t think there’s ever been a person more appropriate for that term. Zak, though I do like him, and find him entertaining, is kind of a tool. What he may consider passion can very easily be mistaken for showboating and attempts to look extra macho. Like in the show, this also comes across in the book. A little too often. In one chapter, he mentions thriving in situations where he is absolutely alone in a dark room where he knows a spirit is nearby. He says it's a place where “amateurs” fear, but that he “loves” it. In another passage, he equates going into haunted locations where “bully” spirits are said to inhabit (Zak hates bullies, you see), with standing up to a crowd of bikers in a bar—a situation in which he would not back down. After a while, what may have been innocently said comes across as somewhat pompous and faux-alpha.

One has to realize something: At this point, Zak is basically the rock star equivalent of paranormal reality television. Girls think he's hot and guys think he's gangsta. If you Google "Zak Bagans," the following related searches pop up: zak bagans shirtless, zak bagans body, zak bagans tattoo, zak bagans girlfriend. Funnily enough, not zak bagans ghosts. And the search results for only his name reveal several pictures of him without a shirt, as well as pictures of girls with his own photo horribly cropped into them. Zak's audience aren't all tuning in for ghosts—some are tuning in for him. I think he realizes that, and I think it might be going to his head a bit.

An extension of this is something that's present both in the show as well as the book. Zak kinda thinks he is better than you—you, the fans, the audience—the people who give him a reason to keep doing what he's doing. He likes to remind us that we can't even begin to sense the true danger and evil the "GA" crew might be experiencing because we're at home watching it on our "little televisions." In fact, a snippet from the book says:

You have to remember—while you're at home chilling comfortably on your couch watching this stuff on your flat-screen TV, eating a Lunchable and stacking the cheese on your cracker sandwich, you can't feel what it's like to actually be in the company of one of these nasty spirits.

Seriously, Zak—what the fuck did we do?

Lastly, and this is more of minor criticism, but most of Zak’s “humor” really doesn’t work—it barely skirts by on the show, but in text, it’s even more awkward. (See the opening quote of this review—I didn’t make that up.) I’m pretty sure there’s even a fart joke somewhere in the book, too.

At this point I might be coming dangerously close to reviewing the author instead of his book, so I should probably move onto some positives.

In the earlier portions of the book, he speaks very candidly about his early life—not just of his people phobia, but of his somewhat aimless direction that led him to various colleges and jobs where he felt nothing but isolation and despair. It was refreshingly modest. 

Additionally, Zak addresses criticisms he or his crew have received in the past—criticisms that I personally have lobbed at the show. He admits to trying to fill in the gaps a bit too much when it comes to EVPs captured in the moment. For instance, the guys might think a voice is saying “GONNA KILL YOU” when in actuality the words are barely coherent. He also admits to coming across a little abrupt in some of his investigations, but explains that it’s the nagging of the skeptics that make him feel like he has to go above and beyond to show that what he brings to your TV each week is real.

For me, the jury’s still out on that.

As a disclaimer, I state that I love Zak Bagans and his "GA" crew. While the investigations alone are enough to get me to tune in, it’s Zak’s dynamic “performance” as host that makes it my number one paranormal show. Whether he is being bawdy or passionate or downright ridiculous, he brings a flavor to the show that there really is no denying. Whether we fans tune in to laugh with Zak or at him, we’re still tuning in…aren’t we?

P.S. Note to Aaron Goodwin: Please write your own book. I’d love to read it.

HEY, KNOW WHAT'S A REAL MOVIE?