GRAVE ROBBERS (1989)
I've always maintained that I don't review every film that I see. In order to ramble on a certain topic, I need to have something to say. There are movies, however, that refuse to meet me halfway. Take Grave Robbers, for instance. It's a Mexican slasher that you'll often find paired with 1985's Cemetery of Horror, a zombie romp directed by Ruben Golindo Jr. Ol' Ruben also conducted this diapason.* And it's...decent. See, that's the problem. This diabolic diversion is the cinematic equivalent of Bunny bread. I dig Bunny bread, but outside of being a slice of leavened dough, what does it offer? It's just fucking bread. Grave Robbers is just a cut-and-dried monster mash. Make of that what you will.
After the occult-flavored prologue, we meet our cannon fodder. It's a pitiable prospectus of faceless characters who are stalked by the sprightly corpse of an irritable Satanist, a necromancer of sorts bent on...um, ending the world or some shit. The death sequences are charming. And I suppose that the production values are sharp, considering the modest budget. It's nothing innovative. Honestly, I'm surprised that I've wrested this many words out of such a routine flick. Two and a half Z'Dars. Four Z'Dars for my alliteration.
*It's a musical term. Yeah, I don't know.
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