I Bury the Living

Mainly forgotten today by the modern world of Blu-ray and 4K, I Bury the Living is one of the 1950s’ better horror films. The Gerald Fried score is outstanding, as evidenced by the opening credits sequence. After dramatic opening credits, we see a panoramic shot of a cemetery with an overlaying sign: “Science has learned that man possesses powers which go beyond the boundaries of the natural. This is the story of one confronted by such strange forces within himself.”

The caretaker of the Immortal Hills cemetery, Andy McKee (Theodore Bikel), welcomes the new custodian, Robert Kraft (Richard Boone), to his humble quarters. Once McKee offers Kraft a tour, Kraft sees a large chart on the wall with hundreds of pins embedded in it. “Yes, sir, that’s a map of the entire cemetery.” Kraft comments, “You keep it up to date, there’s a mausoleum on there already.” MacKee raves that this map will be a big help to him. McKee says the map shows who’s there and what’s what. The pins display the plot number, indicating which graves are still available (white pins) and which have already been claimed (black pins).

The sound of a car pulls up, and Kraft says it must be Stu Drexel (Glen Vernon). Stu, a client, pulls up in a sports car with his new wife, Elizabeth (Lynette Bernay). “How would you like to get a cemetery plot as a wedding gift?” She blurts out. They finish the conversation and drive off. Kraft places black pins in the Drexel plot on the map.

Meanwhile, the Krafts own a department store, but each Kraft has sacrificed time to oversee some worthy cause for a year. It is now Bob’s turn to take the bullet, even though he serves as president of the store. “Can you give me one good reason why I should take over the management of a whole big cemetery when I’m up to my neck in my own business?” Bob asks. The elder George Kraft says, of course, he can, “Tradition. Particularly for us, Krafts. You always harp on dignity, honor, and prestige. Oh, how did you think we got it? Your father and his father served on every community project created … they served for free. But they did it for business. That’s what a fine family has to do in this town. And you can’t refuse to do it without losing a whole lot of respect from our customers … all you do is show up once a week and sign a check.

Then Bob receives a telephone call that the Drexels have been involved in a traffic accident and have been killed, and that he’ll be right up at the cemetery. There, McKee reminds Kraft that he stuck two black pins for the Krafts on the big board. “It made me feel a little eerie, that’s all.” “I think you mean you marked the young couple for dead, sir,” McKee says. Suddenly, Ann Craig (Peggy Maurer), Kraft's girlfriend, arrives. She was driving when she suddenly thought of Bob; she needed him so much. “Just about the time you needed me, I had something on my mind. I don’t blame you for not repeating the exact thing that was on my mind.”

When Ann goes to freshen up, Kraft approaches the board slowly, turns, and sticks a black pin in, not looking. It sticks in the plot of a W. Isham. We cut to W. Isham at his desk in the shop, where he is fixing a toy. Suddenly, his hand contorts, and he collapses at his desk, dramatic music playing.

Next, Kraft appears at the cemetery at the same time McKee is finishing the tombstone for the Drexels. He goes inside to check the paperwork and discovers that William Isham has died this week, immediately recognizing the name. McKee announced that he was going to change the pin color to black, but he noticed the pin was already black. A newspaper reporter, Jess Jessup (Herbert Anderson), states that the incident was merely a coincidence, and there is no need to investigate it further. Looking distressed, Bob says, “I’ve been through this before … the draft … the quiet … and that sound. I never knew what it was … it was the sound of a name being cut into a headstone … what if I said this is something that happens to me regularly, ever since I’ve been a child. Sometimes, as often as every other week.”

Kraft is in the office with his Uncle George, trying to shake off the eerie feeling. “George, I put black pins in for the Drexel couple the day they were killed. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Then I took a white pin at random and replaced it with a black one, and today I found out that the old man it belonged to had died during the week. George only laughs hysterically. “Bob, everybody likes a ghost story … where’s your sense of humor? … You don’t really believe that stuff you’re telling me, do you?” Uncle George proclaims.

George and Bob go to the cemetery so George can check out the big board for himself. George, looking at the board, says, “I think I can get this whole thing cleared up for you. I’m going to convince you that there’s nothing out here to worry about.” George wants to place a black pin in Henry Trowbridge’s (Russ Bender) plot on the map. He was the former committee chairman before Bob. Very reluctantly, Bob pushes in the pin, and he immediately goes for a bottle of liquor in a metal file. Defying George to keep this all hush-hush, he phones Trowbridge at 11:40 and says he hates to disturb him. Featuring some unique camerawork that shows a close-up of a clock’s second hand moving slowly, just as the minute hand crosses the 12 at the top of the clock, Trowledge gets on the phone, seemingly gasping for air and unable to talk. A close-up of Bob Kraft shows a worried face, breaking out into a cold sweat. Then his wife gets on the phone in a panic, saying she must call a doctor right away. But it’s already too late!

Next, we see McKee engraving Henry Trowbridge’s name into a marble tombstone. A police car pulls up, and one cop goes inside. Bob has called the police about these past supernatural occurrences and death by pin placement. The police detective, Lt. Clayborne (Robert Osterloh), says, “Let me get this straight, Mr. Kraft, you say that every time you place a black pin on the map, people turn up dead. The detective stares, and Bob laughs, “Go ahead, Lieutenant, you think I’m a crackpot, and I hope you’re right. I want to prove it beyond a reasonable doubt.” Lt. Clayborne has paperwork on each client but says, without additional proof, the cases will be dropped. Jess Jessup enters and says I told him these occurrences were just a coincidence. While unconvinced, Lt. Clayborne exits, Bob tells Jesse, “Maybe that thing’s [the map] dangerous, really dangerous. Maybe the ultimate danger is within a man … me.”

Returning to the office to greet George and Ann, George says he will keep his promise to allow Bob to resign from the cemetery business if anything happens to Trowbridge. Bob states vehemently that he is not ready to resign until he has the situation figured out. Ann asks Bob, " Why can’t you resign. Bob answers, “Because something … possibly real, unreal, I don’t know, I tend to kill every time I stick a black pin into the map … Maybe it isn’t the map!” Ann suggests that they take advantage of the plane tickets Bob offered us, even suggesting a best man for their wedding. Bob says the offer is attractive, but has the determined look of a man who must do something else now.

Bob is in a room with George and two other people. One man says, “Now Bob, it’s real simple. We’re willing to play ball with you. If you want to remain chairman of this committee … we have coincidence in you.” George says, “Now, all we want before we break this thing up is a promise from you, Mr. Chairman, that before you turn in tonight to go out to the cemetery and change our white pins to black. It’s as simple as that.” He immediately refuses, but George sternly adds, “You’re not the committee Bob, you’re only our chairman … you do need to carry out the will of the majority. We feel you should do as Bill says because it will put an end to this business … or we’ll do the resigning right here and now.” Bob asks to sleep on it. George says, “Motion defeated, good night.” Back at the cemetery, Bob stares at the big board and changes the pin colors as instructed, for all the committee members. When Jesse immediately calls, Bob tells him, “If anything happens to them, it’s my fault, not anybody else’s.”

Bob sits at his desk, staring at the telephone and quivering big board. In Bob’s mind, the board continues to distort more and more as Gerald Fried’s music crescendos. Bob rises and opens the door, looking out at the tombstones in the graveyard. In near darkness, Bob lights the fireplace and puts on a heavy coat, merely waiting, making a few phone calls to the black pin club but receiving no answers. Breaking into another cold sweat, Bob attempts to phone Lt. Clayborne, but he’ll have to call back. Jesse soon phones to say he is with Lt. Clayborne, that Bill Honegger is dead. “He just dropped dead.” Charlie Bates was found dead in his apartment: “Just stopped breathing.” George heard of Bill Honegger’s death, but was on the road before he heard of Charlie’s death. Bob is receiving this dismal news in an almost entirely dark room, soon sitting staring for at least 30 seconds in utter dread.. Director Albert Band has concocted a truly terrifying sequence.

George wanders into the cemetery office, wearing his night clothes and robe, in an utter daze. He staggers as he walks. He walks toward the big board and suddenly turns around to face Bob as music swells. George wants Bob to drive him home, but Bob is staying put. Bob says he’s waiting to see if George escapes dying. The uncle says, “Escape dying… nobody escapes that, my boy.” Bob then comments, “The only question is how long. The only question is whether a man dies in his own time or the map’s! So far, everyone has been forced to conform to his [the map’s] schedule. Everyone but you!” George takes the black pin from his plot on the map. “That puts me back on the schedule, my own schedule. Let me tell you something, from now on, if you want to see me, you’re going to have to come down to the store. I won’t make another special trip on your account.” Bob responds, “The next time I see you, George, we’ll both be right here.” Then George exits. Bob then phones Lt. Clayborne to suggest putting a man to watch over George, “No matter how ridiculous the situation seems to you.” Once again, the music pumps up, and the big board distorts once again. Then we are gifted another quirky shot as Richard Boone covers his face in the dark, and the shot gets smaller and smaller, disappearing into the background. Director of photography Frederick Gately creates several of these quirky shots throughout the movie.

Clayborne is speaking to Bob Kraft on the telephone, saying there’s been no sign of Uncle George for the past two hours after he left the cemetery. “He’s not on the road and he’s not home,” Clayborne offers. In almost a daze, Kraft walks the grounds of the cemetery and finds George’s car still there, his body slumped over the front seat, obviously dead. Telling someone over the phone that George never left the cemetery, he places the black pin back on his cemetery plot on the map as the music crescendos again, a mass funeral following.

McKee is once again working on multiple Kraft tombstones, as Bob sits disheveled in the cemetery office. A police car pulls in, carrying Jesse, Ann, and Clayborne; only the men enter the office. Playing around with fate once again, Clayborne has Kraft change one of the plot pins from white to black, even though the man is not dead, yet. Over so many coincidences, you think they would have learned something. The chosen man is in the prime of life with no significant medical problems. He’s now in Paris, not a local like all the other victims. Bob, looking like hell, utters, “I knew I should have gotten rid of those pins four days ago. Even the map, the whole thing—out. What I want to know is what you are going to tell the district attorney, who is responsible for these deaths?” Clayborne answers, “We gave this case a full investigation, Mr. Kraft … and we found nothing: no motive, no opportunity, no suspect, no crime, and no weapon. Except when those pins went in … seven people died, not one. Seven! Who put in those pins? You did, all seven. People have been putting pins in for years, and nothing happened … a certain kind of man can be endowed with powers that nobody dreamed of having. A lot of scientists claim that … the power of the human brain has to be behind it … I know you didn’t mean to kill anybody.” Bob is left alone with his thoughts and guilt.

Bob puts his overcoat over his messy suit and lights the fireplace, which falls apart. He turns and studies the big board as dramatic music plays. He says, ”Something in me killed them! If I have the power of death using black pins, then I must have the power of life using white ones.” Then Kraft proceeds to replace all the black pins with white ones, including those of people who have died. Then the music builds as Bob locks the door and windows.

Then, in a somber sequence, we pan the cemetery after nightfall and observe the graves of the recently deceased. Meanwhile, inside the office, Bob breaks up furniture for some unknown reason. The large map seems to be staring at him as he moves wood into piles in the middle of the office floor. Then we are outside once again, studying the tombstones. William Isham’s tombstone at first twitches, falls over, seemingly without provocation. Back inside the office, the door is barricaded as Bob breaks up even more furniture. He uses some wood to light a fire inside.

Next, we observe the Drexel double tombstone, the bare earth in front of the grave marker opens up as though something is trying to escape from within. Back inside, Bob is sleeping as huge clouds of smoke billow. He pours a bucket of water on the smothering fire, pushes aside the barricade, and rushes outside for pure air, coughing. He observes the Drexel twin tombstone with the open graves in front of it. He reflects on the two replacement white pins he recently placed. Bob runs at breakneck speed, racing through the graveyard and comes upon the Henry Trowbridge tombstone, the grave dug up, remembering also replacing the black pins with white ones. Then he continues racing until he comes upon the George Kraft tombstone, which has also been unearthed.

Continuing to run, Bob seeks refuge hiding inside his now breathable cemetery office, fetching his gun and staring at the large map. About to shoot himself in the head, the telephone rings, which gives him pause. He answers it to find our black pin victim in Paris is dead, as an unseen shadowy figure approaches—McKee. McKee, “Do you still think the map is the killer, Mr. Chairman? The only power you or the map had was me … who did the deed, Andrew McKee.” Kraft asks, “Why?” McKee answers, “You and your high and mighty committee, me with 40 years of service on the grounds …” Andy seems to be bitter that the Krafts subordinated him.

Andy continues, “Ah, I made sure of that … I snuck up on each one of them and they all went … There’s nothing to fear here.” Then there is the sound, amplified chipping away at the tombstones. Bob then says to quickly talk about something else, as it is important. Andy holds a pistol on Kraft as the banging sound continues. “I caused you to kill those people,” Kraft declares, “It’s possible for some people to have things inside them that make other things happen. Nothing is impossible for a man like that if he thinks about it hard enough. I know you, Andy, you’re no killer. I made you do it.” Then Andy realizes the dead can return with the replaced white pins, and he begins to barricade the door, the clanging continuing. Andy starts panicking. Kraft pleads, “Andy, stop it, there’s nobody.”

Then we have a visual montage of the map and close-ups of the pins, featuring a grotesque living corpse. Tombstones seem to float by. The montage finishes by placing a black pin in Andrew McKee’s tombstone. McKee is in a panic, ranting, “Don’t come closer,” when the barricaded door bursts open, admitting Clayborne, a slew of policemen, and Jesse. Andy slumps down dead, knocking the left side of the map to the ground. Ann enters at the end of the pack, hugging Bob. Clayborne apologizes for putting Bob through this, but it was the only way to bring McKee to reveal himself. Jesse admits to watching him unearth seven graves. Bob and Ann exit the cemetery office, but the cameraman stays focused on the half-down big board as the music crescendos for the final time; the map finally collapses completely as end titles appear.

In 1958, all people cared about creating were double features that the children could watch on Saturdays or Sundays, and be entertained. Somehow, I Bury the Living managed to rise above typical kiddie fare, being more suitable for adults than children. The film, although very much a programmer, was a supernatural thriller that was largely unexplained, something you didn’t do in 1958. Everything had to be neatly explained by the end of the movie, with a complete tie-in. Richard Boone and Theodore Bickel were two serious actors committed to their craft. Boone never did horror movies, and at the time, he was ready to transition to TV to star in one of the greatest adult Westerns of all time, Have Gun, Will Travel. Boone was one of the aces in the hole of the movie. Boone treated his role as Bob Kraft as something exceptional, a performance to be remembered, even if the movie was destined not to be. Theodore Bikel was similar in that no movie role was too small. They considered these genre films as movies, period.

Unfortunately, I Bury the Living contained an unfortunate trope that we all remember, which we can call The Mark of the Vampire trope. The movie spends most of its length creating a mesmerizing world of the supernatural, and its audience is fully drawn into this fantastical world. Then, in the film’s final minutes, it explains away all its supernatural elements, making its vampire a theatrical actor, very much flesh and blood. Similarly, I Bury the Living creates in this paranormal world of a cemetery map and the ability of Bob Kraft to kill people by sticking black pins into people’s plots. But everything is explained away by making Andy McKee the actual murderer.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to keep the giant map otherworldly and have the dead come back to life, even if they are unseen? Knocks upon the barricaded door could be enough to suggest the reanimation of the dead. We don’t want a Night of the Living Dead replay with the dead running amok. Couldn’t it be fascinating to wonder if something inside Bob allows him to kill, or whether the powers of the big board have supernatural powers? We don’t want or need the producers to erase the supernatural and leave a more pedestrian explanation, which does not satisfy. We want to explore our imagination and consider the never considered. We don’t need the powers of our psyche explained away! Let us wander in our ambiguity.

MCKEE (THEODORE BICKEL) AND BOB KRAFT (RICHARD BOONE) IN FRONT OF THE CEMETERY MAP.

ANOTHER VIEW OF THE BIG BOARD!