Stop me if you’ve heard this before: a bunch of dweebs sneak into an abandoned funeral home to party. Someone whips out a Ouija board, thereby unwittingly summoning the dead. One by one the dumb asses are possessed, hacked, sliced and diced by mean undead warriors with glowing evil eyeballs and machetes on loan from Friday the 13th (1980) — and not even graphically enough to warrant a G-rated bandage.
The gore in the lazily contrived Prison of the Dead (2000) is so PC’d, all you get to see is a couple of ketchup squirts simulating a violent act. They should give away french fries with this flick. And where the hell has illicit sex gone in these Z-grade handle jigglers? No one drops top anymore, which breaks the #1 cardinal rule of low-budget videos.
Prison’s most notable scene comes at the end where the “action” abruptly stops as though it were my car driving around on $1.25 of gas. The director either ran out of money or ran out of ideas. Hard to believe the latter as the whole movie is as cookie cutter as it gets. Someone needs to go to prison for this.
Drinkin' & Drive-in 