For those hording toilet paper

Rave to the Grave (2005)

Well, it was bound to happen. Sure, I’ve already seen some rather mediocre horror films this October, but nothing I would consider a total loss. I should have known, though. I have no one to blame but myself. Anything titled, “Return of the Living Dead: Rave to the Grave” is bound to be a shit-stain. I spent some time hating myself while a part of me was lamenting Peter Coyote’s involvement in this. Even a cameo seems to reek of desperation. Sadly, he had an even lengthier part in the previous installment of a franchise that really never should have existed (I still think the third film, if unattached to the franchise and with its own title, could be an even stronger cult film and have horror fans wanting to see it) in the first place. I admit that I like the second film, a sort-of remake of Return of the Living Dead. It was one of those oddities I watched a lot on VHS back in the 90s. It was a summer movie, this sequel, popped into the VCR when I was bored. I was always curious as to the point of the sequel, but it seemed like an attempt to cash in (wouldn't be the first or last movie to do so). To me, the sequel has some likable characters, some decent zombie effects, and a self-contained plot within a town besieged by the zombie infection. It even has a put-upon kid getting even with a bully (soon to be zombie) who tormented him. That said, there was nothing even in that film that really warranted three sequels after it. The third film turned out to be a nice surprise, particularly since it had the distinction of being attached to a series that exists based on the success of a first film which itself was a sequel to Romero’s Night of the Living Dead. The fourth and fifth films in the franchise come on syfy all the time…that should have told me all I needed to know. But I rented this for a buck I can never use as pocket change to clean the floorboards of my car…that is a loss. Put out the sign over the cover, “Beware. Rent at your own peril”.

Students at an unnamed college are planning to rock Halloween at a techno-beat rave, but Trioxin canisters in the possession of Peter Coyote produce a new drug called Z (Zombie, get it?) that soon turns the kids into brain-devouring zombies (the effects take some time to turn the idiots popping the pills into the undead; their teeth dirty brown and rotting, once turned, the kids roar, “Brains!!!!!”). Coyote’s nephew attends that college and finds two canisters behind a wall (he follows drag marks that lead to a wall that signals to him something behind it), opting to ask his science geek buddy for assistance in identifying what chemical is in one of them instead of the police (not wise). The science geek buddy decides instead to enlist the aid of friends to help deal it as a new party drug, because one of the nephew’s entourage took a taste and got an unusual experience out of it. So the drug turns college kids into zombies and the infection spreads, with lots of heads bitten into and brains jerked from skulls. A handful of the nephew’s friends (the science geek buddy, the nephew’s girlfriend, etc) try to curtail the impending epidemic with help of two Interpol agents seemingly invested in attaining the remaining canisters (they were there when Coyote offered a canister to them in exchange for money) for safety and stopping the zombies in their tracks before things really get out of hand.

Paying homage to Return of the Living Dead with the return of the slimy canister zombie, with lots of gunshots to the head (“Shoot them in the head!”) and flesh-eating, this sequel has gore but not much else. The film is quite repetitive in its violence, and the plentiful dopes popping a new drug that hasn’t been tested are simply fodder we could give two shits about. A sense of humor perhaps helps (pot smoking hippies agree to carry off two zombies but are accosted in their car; the aforementioned slime zombie holding a sign up hoping a motorist will stop to pick it up; the reactions to how the Trioxin affects the body upon first administration have people’s heads cartoonishly turning right and left at warp speed; a vegetarian bitten by his favorite test mouse suddenly craves human flesh; cheerleaders forming a pyramid during practice are bitten in the ass by zombies infiltrating the field)  and random extras pop their tops and show their breasts, so the taste-factor certain viewers are always concerned about is out to lunch. Certainly this version of the film is a bit more excessive than syfy shows cut on cable, so if push comes to shove (that is if you are near a window that overlooks several stories down) and you just had to watch this, renting the R-rated Rave to the Grave is the way to go. If you are on the fence, try retreating to the safe side and remain untainted by this film’s wretched stench.