One of the few films I've endured that was actually improved greatly by regular loss of consciousness throughout.
Exploitative to the point of using as fodder, and thereby, by default, attempting to undermine the value of a text sacred to the Christian religion, the prophetic book of Revelation (no less), it really is an example of the worst kind of derivative and cliche-ridden, ill considered schlock produced upon this earth, in that it derides the viewer's intelligence merely by virtue of the fact that it even exists, (and as far as criticisms go, that's really saying something!)
A few of the times I accidentally, (and unfortunately ), awoke, I wondered if I'd somehow discovered a rare gem of a film that was actually some type of crossover hybrid between horror and comedy, (if that were at all even possible, as it would have been a work of genius if anyone could have successfully pulled it off), but I quickly realised, before almost immediately being repelled by its inherently boring nature and falling straight back to sleep, that it really was seriously posing scenarios for us to consider as plausible, such as that of a father who did not know his own daughter's memories of her mother were non existent (because what father knows such an intimate detail about their own kid?) and this illogical script inadequacy revealed just before Dad refers a customer in his shop to the 'gift' section in order to purchase a can of rat poison, (because, after all, where else in your shop would you keep such an item?)
I really pity those actors associated with this production, in the same way that I pity those whose reputations were forever destroyed by being cast members of 'Manos the Hand of Fear' who were also tainted forever by their association with a mega bomb. But, unlike those cast members who decided the only remedy to their predicament was to quickly suicide, I'd like to refer those who have found their careers in tatters after being linked to this mess, to please, by all means, seek professional assistance before making such a dire move.
Remember, tomorrow is another day, and, fortunately, this movie is really so very, very toxicly bad that few, if any, will choose to remember, beyond the last frame, anything that happened or anyone who was cast in it, and rightfully so, because it thoroughly and wholeheartedly stank.
a con perpetrated (most likely) by review writing bond slaves in ultra low wage countries, forced to write lies praising it on behalf of the various unscrupulous and immoral production houses associated with the making of this distastefully grotesque and unentertaining, cankerous eye-sore, which is tantamount to an act, similarly mean in nature, to that of great depression era second hand dealers stuffing gear boxes of worn out jalopies with straw in order to fleece by swindling the last few dollars out of dust bowl refugee farmers, desperately attempting to make it to California, and thereby leaving them on the side of a road somewhere, stranded in the middle of nowhere, with nothing, broke, lost, miserably depressed, ripped off, and alone... which, in itself, sums up and serves as the most perfect metaphor of all for this potential strong contender for the top award winner in the competition for all time worst film of the 21st century.
I strongly recommend the entire human race to avoid 'Ghost in the Graveyard' at all costs, (including, if necessary, violently inflicting deafness and blindness upon self and others), and especially, (given the dire nature of today's entertainment industry), to also avoid it's most likely and inevitable sequel.
Exploitative to the point of using as fodder, and thereby, by default, attempting to undermine the value of a text sacred to the Christian religion, the prophetic book of Revelation (no less), it really is an example of the worst kind of derivative and cliche-ridden, ill considered schlock produced upon this earth, in that it derides the viewer's intelligence merely by virtue of the fact that it even exists, (and as far as criticisms go, that's really saying something!)
A few of the times I accidentally, (and unfortunately ), awoke, I wondered if I'd somehow discovered a rare gem of a film that was actually some type of crossover hybrid between horror and comedy, (if that were at all even possible, as it would have been a work of genius if anyone could have successfully pulled it off), but I quickly realised, before almost immediately being repelled by its inherently boring nature and falling straight back to sleep, that it really was seriously posing scenarios for us to consider as plausible, such as that of a father who did not know his own daughter's memories of her mother were non existent (because what father knows such an intimate detail about their own kid?) and this illogical script inadequacy revealed just before Dad refers a customer in his shop to the 'gift' section in order to purchase a can of rat poison, (because, after all, where else in your shop would you keep such an item?)
I really pity those actors associated with this production, in the same way that I pity those whose reputations were forever destroyed by being cast members of 'Manos the Hand of Fear' who were also tainted forever by their association with a mega bomb. But, unlike those cast members who decided the only remedy to their predicament was to quickly suicide, I'd like to refer those who have found their careers in tatters after being linked to this mess, to please, by all means, seek professional assistance before making such a dire move.
Remember, tomorrow is another day, and, fortunately, this movie is really so very, very toxicly bad that few, if any, will choose to remember, beyond the last frame, anything that happened or anyone who was cast in it, and rightfully so, because it thoroughly and wholeheartedly stank.
a con perpetrated (most likely) by review writing bond slaves in ultra low wage countries, forced to write lies praising it on behalf of the various unscrupulous and immoral production houses associated with the making of this distastefully grotesque and unentertaining, cankerous eye-sore, which is tantamount to an act, similarly mean in nature, to that of great depression era second hand dealers stuffing gear boxes of worn out jalopies with straw in order to fleece by swindling the last few dollars out of dust bowl refugee farmers, desperately attempting to make it to California, and thereby leaving them on the side of a road somewhere, stranded in the middle of nowhere, with nothing, broke, lost, miserably depressed, ripped off, and alone... which, in itself, sums up and serves as the most perfect metaphor of all for this potential strong contender for the top award winner in the competition for all time worst film of the 21st century.
I strongly recommend the entire human race to avoid 'Ghost in the Graveyard' at all costs, (including, if necessary, violently inflicting deafness and blindness upon self and others), and especially, (given the dire nature of today's entertainment industry), to also avoid it's most likely and inevitable sequel.