The Corpse Is Alive

A five-minute movie

1- This is the basic story for a short film entitled “The Corpse is Alive”

2- We made the film to participate in ‘The Germ’ Film Project in Fresno, Ca.

3- The rules were:  a) Horror film. b) Luck had to be involved. 3) Under five minutes.

4- We shot the film in two days in the middle of July.

5- This was our first attempt at making movies.

6- It has won thirteen nominations from different Film Festivals around the world.

7- Enrique Martin-Valdepeña and I (Edmundo Barraza) finished this project by the end of 2015.

The story begins with a conversation between father and son as we watch a blurry funeral procession. Then, we see a person with a shovel in the dark as he jumps over a cemetery wall. The conversation is taking place off screen. (O.S.)

“You know what dad, regardless of all the arguments we’d had, you’re still my role model. You’re brave . . . you’re fearless . . .”

“Wait a minute, what do you need? It sounds like you’re ready to ask for something.”

“No dad, I don’t need a reason to say something nice to you, I’m just glad you’re a good father. Some of my friends don’t have a father and that must be tough.”

“Well, if I’m a good father it’s because you’re a good son. You make my job easier.”

“What I really wanted to know is if you’re afraid of anything. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you scared.”

“I fear a few things, but my biggest fear is to be buried alive. I have nightmares about it. So, when I die, I want you to make sure that I’m really dead. I also want you to leave two things in my coffin, my cell phone and my gun . . . just in case.”

“That’s a weird request, but logical.” after a pause, “Oh, I almost forgot. Can I use your car tonight?”

“I knew it! I knew it!


The dead awakens.

What’s this?

This must be a joke.

What the hell?! It looks like a coffin.

Damn!  It is a coffin! This can’t be possible. 

(Starts banging on the coffin’s lid) 

Damn! I knew it, they buried me alive. Help! Help! Somebody, get me out of here! I’m alive! I’m alive!

Was I such a bad person to deserve this punishment?

Wait a minute! Where’s the phone?

What the fuck . . .  no signal? AHHH!!! . . .  

What about the gun?! Where’s the gun? 

(Finds it on his side, tucked against his rib cage. While checking if it’s loaded, he accidentally discharges the only bullet in the chamber)



Desperation increases

I don’t understand. I should have been dead already.

What did I do? Do I deserve to die twice?

Could it be that your worse fear turns out to be your eternal damnation? 

Damn, I must have been a real bad person.

I hope this is the way everyone dies. 

Maybe this is just Purgatory.


The misery continues

Damn, I’m thirsty. I can resist a week without food, but this thirst is killing me.

But if I had water that would only prolong my misery.

How long have I been here?

What did I die of, anyway? 

I wonder if my son put another bullet somewhere in my pants. 

(Looks for it, but instead, he finds an envelope full of money in his back pocket) 

What the fuck is this? No bullets?

Money! Money! Money! What the fuck do I need money for? I want another bullet!

Fucking money is not good here!

Then with his eyes wide open, astonished and scared . . .  he hears a faint sound coming from up above, and another . . . and another, sounding each time closer and clearer. Until finally, his son lifts the coffin’s lid and dad rushes out of the grave.

“Somebody . . .  Somebody up there?” 


“Please, please, please! Come get me! 

“Help! I’m alive, I’m alive down here! 

“Is that you, fucking Satan, coming for me?”

“Dad?” You’re alive! How could it be? It can’t be possible!”

“Of course I’m alive why did you bury me alive? Didn’t I tell you to make sure?”

“I’m sorry dad. I was sure about it, aren’t you glad I was wrong?”

“How long have I been here?”

“Three days.”

“How did you know I was alive?”

“I didn’t, I came back for the money I was saving to buy a car. My mom made a mistake, you’re wearing my pants!”

(As credits roll, we see father and son hugging and walking side by side as they head for the cemetery’s gate)

“Next time I die, I want to be cremated son.”

“You got it dad, whatever you say.” 

“How come I didn’t run out of air?”

“They let me bury you next to the storm drain.”

 “Let’s go get a beer.”

“But you look like a zombie, dad.”

“I don’t care, I’m thirsty.”


Edmundo Barraza

Lancaster, Ca.  Jun-20-2015

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Author: Edmundo Barraza

I was born in Mexico. I moved to L.A. in 1978. I became a USA Citizen a few years later. At the citizenship ceremony, I had to swear that I would fight against all foreign enemies (including Mexico) in favor of my new country. I beg God that never happens. I love music, Rock, funk, punk, soul, pop. Beatles, Stevie Wonder, Pink Floyd, The Clash, The Temptations, and all you can fit in between. Playing pool, listening to rock, and having a beer is great, but reading a book, writing a story, or watching a good film is even better. I hate guns, bad people, and evil leaders. I thank God I'm not a racist person. I hate all kinds of injustices. I love good people. I would give my life in a second to save any child. Children are the most precious thing in the world. My ultimate goal is to shoot a feature film based on one of my stories. Every day I work a little more to be able to reach that goal.

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