Let Sleeping Corpses Lie (1974)



Director: Jorge Grau
a.k.a. “Breakfast At The Manchester Morgue”, “The Living Dead At The Manchester Morgue”, “Don’t Open The Window”

Solid Spanish/Italian co-production made with the sole intent to “colorize” George Romero’s “Night of the Living Dead”. It also bears the distinction of being one of the first in the wave of “modern” zombie films from the nineteen seventies, especially on the European front. “Let Sleeping Corpses Lie” was made several years after Armando De Ossorio’s “Tombs of the Blind Dead” and a full five years prior to Lucio Fulci’s classic “Zombie”, with Gianetto De Rossi’s f/x on this film clearly influencing his own latter work on Fulci’s seminal splatter flick. This multi-titled effort from director Jorge Grau ranks among my all time top five of zombie filmdom, one that I love for the (at the time) daring gore as much for it’s quirky characters and lush countryside photography.

A young hippy-liberal type named George is off to the country for a little rest and relaxation. Stopping at a gas station, his motorbike is accidentally run over by a rather foxy young redhead named Edna, on her way to visit her sister’s home in the country. Edna acquires an unwilling travel partner in George, as his bike apparently can’t be fixed for several days. Leaving his bike at the gas station, the two head off into the country in search of the sister’s home. Stopping along the way for directions, Edna is attacked by a vagrant while George is off talking to some scientist types in a field. As Edna is being attacked, George learns the scientists are trying out a new form of pesticide, a device that emits ultra-sonic waves to drive the insects mad, thus causing them to attack one another and kill themselves off. A slight side effect to this wonderful new contraption is that it also seemingly raises the dead, as the tramp that’s attacking Edna is anything but alive. Escaping unharmed, Edna tells her tale to a disbelieving George, and the two continue on to the sister’s home. Later in the evening, Edna’s brother-in-law is attacked and killed by the same dead dude that attacked Edna, and the local Gestapo like police sergeant is eying the two as possible suspects. Disbelieving Edna’s tale of being attacked by the same guy that killed her sister’s husband, the two are forced to stay in the area by the police. George and Edna decide to conduct their own investigation where, at a local cemetery, they find the dead (shock of all shocks) are returning to life and attacking the living.

For first time/mainstream viewers, “Let Sleeping Corpses Lie” may come across as a bit talky/slow in the first hour or so. In what is a radical departure from most genre films, director Grau uses this time to present the viewer with some nicely developed characters, all the while setting the mood for the films gore drenched finale. The acting is surprisingly good, as I really found myself rooting for George and Edna in their struggle against both bigoted police and hungry zombies. There’s a nice sense of brooding atmosphere, and Grau’s use of the windy European countryside is put to excellent use. While gorehounds may grow impatient during the film’s first half, those who can stay awake will be righteously rewarded at film’s end. Ax whackings to the head, innards yanked out and munched on, and, in the film’s show stopping scene of misogynistic violence, a young nurse has her breast ripped off and eaten. Classy. And, yet, it actually is. No matter how violent this one becomes, it’s much different in feel than the crop of Italian gut-munchers to come in the late seventies/early eighties. “Let Sleeping Corpses” lie is often described as the “thinking man’s” zombie film, ala Michele Soavi’s excellent “Dellamorte Dellamore”. You can detect a sense of angriness from Grau, as the film’s theme of technology/man destroying the environment is highly apparent. Social commentary aside, Grau’s film stands out as a haunting and atmospheric zombie romp, delivering the goods along with the grue. Recommended.

Zombie Horrors
Home