Prison of the Dead (2000)

Dir: Victoria Sloan (aka David DeCoteau)

"Prison of the Dead" is a must for anyone who genuinely won't accept that there are movies out there that make all the quintessential 'turkeys' and 'razzies' in the world seem like Ingmar Bergman by comparion. This one appears to have been written and performed in the space of a night, with everyone high on crystal meth. It makes not a lick of sense. I'm not even sure where to begin with explaining the plot. A college kid (Patrick Flood - who has no neck!) fakes his own funeral to lure his mates into a haunted prison that, apparently, housed witches. They arse about with a ouija board and a bunch of glowing-eyed freaks pop out the ground to slash them up with spades, knives and what appears to be a giant toilet brush. All of this makes it sound better than it actually is. What could've been a great little B flick if they'd just kept it simple gets bogged down in unnecessary convolution. By about an hour in, it's not clear in the slightest why anyone's doing anything they're doing or even who is whom. Even if you're watching this for a cheap laugh, I defy you to be fully awake by the time the completely forgettable ending crawls onscreen. In fact, here's a test: if you've seen it, how does it end? EL BOMBA!