Gerald Fried (b. 1928), composer, and Frederick Gately (1909 - 1988), cinematographer, are the instigators of a wonderful film of sound and vision, and with this Louis Garfinkle (1928 - 2005) penned story, who, some twenty years on, was to pen The Deer Hunter (1978), have created a tense 1950's Noir style thriller. This is a great piece of 1950's horror, and starring Richard Boone (1917 - 1981), while not altogether horrific up-front, it is the fact that both science and the supernatural are at play here.
Having the power over life can be a daunting reality, and it is with the, literally, broad shoulders of Robert Kraft (Boone) who must take on this responsibility. The story is not very far away from the olden Haitian days of the Voodoo and zombie myths that were to penetrate the world's stages, books and cinemas. With pins and maps replacing voodoo dolls, this, mixed with its gripping score, wonderful black and white photography and the stellar casting of Richard Boone, I Bury the Living is a psychological attack on the mind and the slow demise into despair and guilt. Aware of this gift, Kraft endeavours to inform all those he trusts and believes can help him. His woes are simply put as coincidence and that nature has taking its choice and given some, her gift. Science too, has its place, with its rational reasoning that fate, through life, has simply chosen these people to die.
Richard Boone's performance as the troubled Robert Kraft is the man driven to near suicide, who, having the equivalent charisma and drama as Rick Blaine in Casablanca (1942) and Jerry Connolly in Angels with Dirty Faces (1938), a cool demure set against a stern eagerness, casting Mr. Boone here has done both film and himself a world of good.
See this film for what it is, an interesting B-movie of its generation that has a superb visual tone of the great days of Hitchcock and a musical drama that highlights the tension and intrigue that draws you into both the concerns and anguish of this cursed man.
Having the power over life can be a daunting reality, and it is with the, literally, broad shoulders of Robert Kraft (Boone) who must take on this responsibility. The story is not very far away from the olden Haitian days of the Voodoo and zombie myths that were to penetrate the world's stages, books and cinemas. With pins and maps replacing voodoo dolls, this, mixed with its gripping score, wonderful black and white photography and the stellar casting of Richard Boone, I Bury the Living is a psychological attack on the mind and the slow demise into despair and guilt. Aware of this gift, Kraft endeavours to inform all those he trusts and believes can help him. His woes are simply put as coincidence and that nature has taking its choice and given some, her gift. Science too, has its place, with its rational reasoning that fate, through life, has simply chosen these people to die.
Richard Boone's performance as the troubled Robert Kraft is the man driven to near suicide, who, having the equivalent charisma and drama as Rick Blaine in Casablanca (1942) and Jerry Connolly in Angels with Dirty Faces (1938), a cool demure set against a stern eagerness, casting Mr. Boone here has done both film and himself a world of good.
See this film for what it is, an interesting B-movie of its generation that has a superb visual tone of the great days of Hitchcock and a musical drama that highlights the tension and intrigue that draws you into both the concerns and anguish of this cursed man.