Pet Graveyard. 2019.
Directed by Rebecca Matthews.
Starring Rita Siddiqui, Andrew Hollingworth, Kate Milner Evans, David Cotter, Hindolo Koroma, Claire-Maria Fox, and Jessica Otoole.
SYNOPSIS:
A group of teens are tormented by the Grim Reaper and his pet after undergoing an experiment that allows them to revisit the dead.
What happens when a mad scientist stitches Flatliners and Final Destination together without a single molecule of Pet Sematary? Pet Graveyard, duh! Haunted by the ugliest muggin’ Sphynx breed feline on the poster art, perched atop a pile of discarded skeleton parts – which purposefully, and incorrectly, sells a carbon-copy of 2019’s Pet Sematary (both release the same week, “oddly”). Rebecca Matthews’ afterlife cheater has nothing to do with reanimated corpses, tracks no Ramones theme song, nor has an original bone to be bashed by the Grim Reaper’s wrench. Yes, a weapon from your father’s toolshed. Don’t worry, we’ll get there.
Suzy Spade’s screenplay pits three acquaintances against Death. As urban daredevil Jeff (David Cotter) explains to his non-participant sister Lily (Jessica Otoole), he’s discovered a ritual called “Brinking” that could reunite the living and deceased. You recite some basic-ass incantation, suffocate, and appear in a blacked-out purgatory where connections take place. Zara (Rita Siddiqui) wishes to reconnect with her little brother, Francis (Hindolo Koroma) a female friend, and Jeff wants to see mommy one last time. As video feed captures the ceremony for YouTube fame, everything goes according to plan except for one hitch – once you enter the Reaper’s domain, he doesn’t want you to leave.
So, why “Pet Graveyard?” Hilariously, beyond rip-off marketability, there is no reason. The Grim Reaper only appears when demon kitty – with red, inflamed eyes – materializes out of nowhere before victims. That’s it. No burying people under rotten soil, no references to small-town legends – Jeff’s clan doesn’t even visit an animal cemetery. Filming takes place in an abandoned graveyard cathedral surrounded by human remains six-feet-under. Bless the poor sap who falls for this Asylum-level trick, because Pet Graveyard ain’t no Z-grade Stephen King adaptation. Worse than The Dark Tower, miraculously.
Death’s design is that of a basic hooded monk’s robe, a nondescript stony mask without expression, and a black crucifix swinging from his neck. Not precisely the Grim Reaper we’re used to, especially sans scythe. Yes, this version of a soul collector kills people like a common street thug, chasing one character around a Brighton Pier arcade with nothing but a pipe wrench. An all-powerful underworld hitman and he’s wielding a plumber’s implement? Sucks a bit of the supernatural aspect straight into oblivion, but it’s not like Pet Graveyard contributes much unto the horror genre with or without a Party City mascot killer.
Conversations between asphyxiated yet still “living” souls and their dead meet-ups take place amidst black nothingness. A riff on Under The Skin if you’re looking for one more cinematic theft, just without the splashy black pool? These sequences provide Pet Graveyard’s *only* scant traces of tension, as “Brinkers” discover they’re not meant to resurface. Zara’s sibling begins bleeding from his head wound, Francis’ hot-’n-heavy makeout gets bitey, and Jeff’s mother mouth-bleeds onto a white frosted cake. Death, always watching, ensnares the temporal visitors – and if you go back, you’re immediately doomed.
There are rules (apparently). You only get one flatline “Brink,” can only stay under three minutes, and Death always wins (so far). Lily Googles “Brinking” and stumbles upon one of those all-telling tragedy write-ups that details the passing of multiple “Brinkers” three years prior. Also helpful is the explanation about how some magic skull could defeat Grimmy Reaps and save her brother? You know the internet. Such a wealth of exposition resources for horror genre characters!
To be frank, none of this nonsense matters past worse-than-generic horror setups. Only three morons provoke the Grim Reaper’s torment, which means drawn-out “kill” sequences and lots of walking around empty rooms, checking behind doors. You can’t slay characters too quickly, or the 98-minute charade would be over immediately. Sure, an opening car repair sequence introduces Death’s hunt – but after that, we’re waiting until at least minute 60 for the intrigue of chaos to occur. Matthews can’t sustain tension given such minimal resources. Going to hell and back only summons the world’s lamest satanic gatekeeper, devoid of menace and as unimpressive as the film’s lack of horror, tension, or scares.
Oh, and Zara’s whack rubber mouth burn when Death’s hand becomes a blazing hot skillet? Enough.
Pet Graveyard dares to resurrect multiple horror genre franchises at once – coincidentally except the title it name-swaps – and unearths a DOA corpse built on cheap thrills. Performances aren’t the worst seen in an Uncork’d production, and there’s one single kill that gets bone-smashy gross, but aside from the simplest pleasures, there’s still nothing sour enough worth puckering your face over. Be smart, read titles carefully, and you’ll easily avoid this knock-off scheme. What else do you need to know about a film sold by the cheapest viewer-snag strategy in the books?
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★
Matt spends his after-work hours posting nonsense on the internet instead of sleeping like a normal human. He seems like a pretty cool guy, but don’t feed him after midnight just to be safe (beers are allowed/encouraged). Follow him on Twitter/Instagram/Letterboxd (@DoNatoBomb).
