This movie had what sounded like a good premise: 9 people facing their fears to win one million dollars. Unfortunately, it did not turn out to be a good movie. There are several scenes that are way too long and really pointless like the dancing scene. A few scenes are just an excuse to point the camera at female body parts. The acting is bad, but some of the lines are amusing in their awfulness. What's really strange is that towards the end of the movie it turns into like a 5 minute western, and at the end, the twists, of which their were several, don't make sense with the rest of the movie. It seemed as though the director just added stuff on because he thought it would look cool, while conveniently ignoring the plot of the movie up to that point. It just didn't make a lot of sense. The only creepy thing was the old people dancing down the hall, but that doesn't even come close to making up for the rest of this mess.

A real head scratcher of a film by Bill Rebane who appeared to be getting worse in his trade throughout the eighties. Three crackpot millionaires invite nine people to a remote hotel to compete in a last person standing contest in which the final contestant will be given $1 million provided he or she makes it that far. A series of lame pranks are pulled on some of the guests while the others engage in what most adults would do under the circumstances namely get shatfaced at the hotel bar. Most scenes are merely an excuse to focus the camera on various female body parts including an opening dance number that is a crossover of American Bandstand meets geriatric aerobics complete with hookers. If there was any hesitation that white people can't dance this scene hammers the final nail in that coffin. Pay close attention for the nipple slip. This continues on for about forty-five minutes until Bill Rebane begins throwing darts at various plot twists and whatever he hits becomes the inspiration for the next scene making this one incoherent mess. It's a game until it's not a game. The three old coots are in complete control until they're not. The hotel is possessed by a supernatural force until it becomes just props. They're dead until they're not. Even the narrator at the end replies that he doesn't know what the hell happened. I defy anyone to reason where Rebane was going on this one. The acting is dinner theater caliber minus the dinner. Most of the actors probably went back to their day jobs at the local Stuckey's. I give it a few points for the scene where the yuppie broad opens the closet and a skeleton is inside skull humping himself. Let's see Gone With the Wind do that! This Chilling Classics collection is really becoming the bane of me. Bane, Get it! Like Rebane! I hate myself.