For series of movies whose repeated mantra is the incredibly catchy “Sometimes, dead is better”, its deeply ironic that the Pet Sematary has somehow spawned a slow burning franchise that stubbonly refuses to stay buried. While certainly dated, Mary Lambert’s original, 1989 adaptation of Stephen King’s impressively grim source material turned out to be a nihilistic, gruesome little treasure that leveled out the odd spot of hokiness with some genuinely freakish visuals (Zelda FTW!), however, since then, producers have insisted on trying to unsuccessfully resurrect the property with either Lambert’s own, inferior, sequel back in ’92, or a mildly unsatisfying remake that fiddled with the original tale just a little too much.
Well, fasten your safety belts, because here comes a prequel to the 2019 version that seems to be so unnecessary, Paramount has slung it unceremoniously onto its streaming platform in a hope to score some undemanding views. Does this fourth trip back to the cursed lands of Ludlow, Maine manage to earn its existence or is it long past time that the franchise stays in the ground where it belongs?
It’s 1969 and young Judd Crandall longs to do his part and serve his country in the raging conflict in Vietnam, but he and his girlfriend Norma are hearing suspicions from local townsfolk that his protective parents, Dan and Kathy, have paid to keep his name of the draft lists. Judd’s anxiousness to leave the nowhere, podunk town of Ludlow is exasperated even further when his former childhood buddy, Timmy Baterman, returns home early after being honorably discharged. However, you’d barely have to spend five minutes with the guy to realise that something obviously ain’t right with this so-called war hero as Timmy has taken to stalking about the place and muttering a list of names beneath his breath as he gives everyone around him the Satanic stink eye.
It doesn’t take long for us to realise what’s happened, as a pre-credit sequence reveals that Timmy came back from ‘Nam in a bad way and his father, the bitterly grieving Bill Baterman, has buried his body in that infamous Mi’kmaq burial ground that breathes inhuman life back into the dead.
As Timmy starts to enact some sort of insidious, murder plot galvanized by the whispers of some freakish voice from beyond, Judd slowly realises that the town of Ludlow has seen such brutal events unfold before and that his family is caught up in some sort of supernatural conspiracy that dates back to colonial times when the town was first founded. As he, Norma and Judd’s other childhood friend, Manny, start to find themselves drawn into gruesome events that will have effects that stretch out well into the present day.
One of the biggest dangers a prequel can face is that in its eagerness to expand upon an already established set of rules it creates something that weirdly doesn’t connect with the original film at all. You’d think that Pet Sematary: Bloodlines wouldn’t have these sorts of problems, especially when you consider that the sordid and tragic tale of the Baterman’s was an already part of the established lore as early as King’s original novel, but thanks to a horribly unfocused script and some frustratingly haphazard story telling by fledgling director Lindsey Anderson Beer, Bloodlines suffers from curious delusions of grandeur. Simply put, the movie takes a few liberties that not only puts it at odds with the original novel, but also means it doesn’t fit particularly well with the movie its supposed to be preceding as its attempts to milk an expanded world out of the concept of a resurrecting burial ground.
The biggest problem is making the lead character a youthful Judd Crandall, the crusty old neighbour who originally clues Louis Creed in on a quick and supernatural way to save him from having to explain away a dead family cat and after we see everything he goes through in ’69, his decision to take Creed on that fateful trek many years later not only seems cartoonishly out of character, it goes directly against the his climactic choice to stay in Ludlow to guard the Mi’kmaq. Now, I guess you could argue that the movie explains it away as the evil of the burial ground chipping away at his common sense, but it’s not done well enough to avoid you calling bullshit on this and many other odd filmmaking decisions the movie makes. For example, it was hinted before that once you come back, you are missing the part of you that made you you and the soulless being that walks around in your stead is simply geared toward perpetrating act of random evil – but now its suggested that those who come back are maybe possessed by an evil with a definate purpose, which in my book is far less scary than the malevolent and sudden lack of empathy in a loved one caused by an inability to process grief.
Maybe all this wouldn’t grate so badly if it wasn’t for the fact that Pet Sematary: Bloodline is actually a poorly made movie that repeatedly makes confusing and poorly executed decisions about how to tell its story. Whether it’s from bad editing, post production interference, or just a misguided desire to forcibly inject some mystery into the film, massive gaps in logic and reason litter the landscape like unsightly mounds of zombie dog poop.
If it’s made clear at any point what condition Timmy comes home from ‘Nam in, be it dead or suicidal, it’s delivered in a way so carelessly subtle, I must have missed it and it’s just one of many plot holes that spring up all over the place that makes the movie virtually impossible to get into. If Timmy’s condition could have been an interesting metaphor for post traumatic stress, why does nobody accept that something is obviously wrong? If there’s a cabal of townspeople who know about the dangers of the burial ground, why is there only a barrier made of twigs standing between the town and undead disaster? Why does this prequel lazily decide to set up none of the pre-established lore even though it’s set before the original?
The cast prove to be just as a mixed bag as the plot, with Jackson White and Natalie Alyn Lind being blandly vanilla leads and a decidedly out-of-place looking David Duchovny sleep walking through proceedings as he presumably waits for his pay cheque to come through. Even more confounding is the presence of Pam Grier and Samantha Mathis who go on to add nothing to the film in roles so ineffectual, you wonder why they weren’t played by nobodies – hell, Grier’s postal worker even manages the indignity of getting killed off screen. In fact, the only characters who raise the slightest interest is Isabella Star Leblanc’s Native American, hippy artist who probably been the focus of the film from the start and Henry Thomas’ protective patriarch who amusingly has been made up to be the spitting image of King himself circa 1989.
Yet another swing and a miss from a franchise that progressively gone from chilling to room temperature with every subsequent resurrection.
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