‘Burial’ Keeps Itself from Getting Buried Beneath Its B-Movie Ambitions [Review]

Nazis, Bolsheviks, and werewolves: oh my. Far from Oz, and on a road that’s paved in genocide rather than yellow bricks, the story that unfolds in “Burial” is likewise the stuff of fairytales. A tall tale about Soviets taking Hitler’s body back to Russia in the waning hours of World War II, the movie by writer/director Ben Parker is elevated by an interesting concept, solid acting, and some stunning cinematography. A third act that’s short on narrative logic (and quality action blocking) keeps it from achieving its full potential, however, and relegates it to the B-movie realm its concept all but promises.

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“Burial” opens on Christmas Day, 1991, where a little old lady is watching news of the Soviet Union’s dissolution when a Neo Nazi breaks into her house. This leads to a flashback that shows this woman 40+ years younger and enlisted in the Red Army as Brana (Charlotte Vega), the intelligence officer for a small squad of soldiers tasked with delivering a coffin containing Hitler’s body from Berlin to Moscow. Brana and the group’s orders are to travel by horse and foot with their cargo, which needs to be buried every night for safety, and is to be delivered to Stalin himself.

Once in Poland, Brana and her squad clash with a Nazi commando squad known as “werewolves,” who use burning mushrooms and lichen to disorient and slaughter their enemies. Locals in the area get drawn into the struggle, including a sympathetic local partisan, Gaunt (Tom Felton), who seems to understand the stakes of Brana’s mission. As both groups struggle for the coffin, which threatens the post-war stability of the world (for…reasons?), Brana fights for survival on multiple fronts.

Parker does a fine job streamlining his narrative with the introduction of his leads and the world-building of this small corner of history. Although Brana’s squad consists of about 8 soldiers, the script wisely clears out space for the story’s most important players with some excellent writing. It establishes the Soviet captain, Ilyasov (Dan Skinner) as the drunk heel, non-com Tor (Barry Ward) as the battle-hardened soul of the squad, Brana as the moral compass, and young Iosif (Bill Milner) as the audience surrogate.

The Nazi “werewolf” attacks keep the action clicking smartly and reliably throughout the second and third acts, and build on the character work the first third of the movie efficiently sets up for the audience. It’s the finer points and details that sometimes get “Burial” stuck beneath the weight of its own ambitions, however, including the basic conceit of the story and its villains.

Although Stalin’s morbid ambition to claim Hitler’s body is somewhat understandable, how the Nazi partisans know about it, and what they intend to do with the corpse once in possession of it, doesn’t quite pass the sniff test. The 1991 prologue, and some dialogue from Brana later in the movie, allude to this idea that any mystery surrounding Hitler’s fate will somehow keep the Nazi leader’s struggle going, yet “Burial” never establishes just how that might come to pass. And while this doesn’t matter all that much in the grand scheme of things (one side has Hitler’s body, the other side wants it), Parker and his script take a big swing at a larger thematic notion that just isn’t there.

That said, it’s a decent time at a 95 brisk minutes, and the film wastes few of them. Vega ably carries the weight of all this in something of a “final girl” role, yet transcends most of those archetypes by being formidable, brave, and resolute from the jump. Barry Ward as the Stalingrad veteran with a permanent 1000-yard stare and a nickname related to his proficiency with a hammer is the real standout of “Burial,” though. The actor conveys a lifetime of experience and gravitas with each glance, and holds nothing less than the audience’s full attention every second he’s on-screen.

And at least some of this credit should go to Parker, who does a fine job putting all his actors in a great position to connect with the audience throughout “Burial.” And while the blocking and spatial awareness of the finale leaves a bit to be desired, the way it looks and is visually conveyed is never a problem. DP Rein Kotov assures no shot is wasted and gives what is essentially a B-movie the highest visual pedigree.

Clean narrative lines, top-notch production design, great acting, and Hollywood-grade cinematography and lighting elevate “Burial” above what might have been a forgettable schlock-fest. This is not to say that there’s anything wrong with a grindhouse Bolshevik v. Nazi gore-carnival (which “Burial” is at times), this one is just a grade or two above that particular cut of cinematic meat. Not perfect by any means, but if a person is looking to kill some time watching two groups of soldiers butcher each other over possession of Hitler’s corpse, one could do a lot worse than this. [B]