There’s not a whole lot that can be said about an 80-minute scare-free horror film that was clearly inspired by the execrable "Mirror Mirror" trilogy, so I’ll try to keep this brief:Nobody need ever see Deathbed. It’s not awful enough to be any fun, and it’s certainly not entertaining in any noteworthy way. Aside from a preposterous performance by Joe Estevez (that’s Martin Sheen’s brother, not his son), there’s no camp quotient to be found, and if I’m not mistaken the flick contains precisely zero percent actual “horror”.
If I said “young newlyweds move into a new house”, you’d already feel those pangs of familiarity and tedium kick in. Trust those instincts. Things get ridiculously more tiresome once young Karen discovers a dusty and filthy old bed in some secret locked room. (And come on, who’d move into a house without first searching through a secret locked room?) Much like the mirror in Mirror Mirror needed someone to LOOK INTO IT, the bed in Deathbed needs someone to…lay down on it.
I swear that this is the synopsis of an actual motion picture, one that hired people and cost money and all that. If you need me to tell you that A) Karen bizarrely decides to keep the stinky old bed, and B) the evil furniture slowly turns a demure and frigid gal into a slinky sex freak, then ignore my earlier complaints and make a beeline to the Deathbed section of your neighborhood video store.
The ability to overlook a lack of originality is often important when dealing with cheap horror flicks. (In some cases, it’s an absolute requirement.) But Deathbed breaks the Golden Rule of genre flicks by simply being more boring than a lecture on bran.
How the celebrated horror director Stuart Gordon saw fit to rubber-stamp his name onto this awful flick I’ll never know, but if the meager profits help him to finance another Re-Animator sequel, then [erhaps sitting through Deathbed is a small price to pay.Just don’t ever ask me to watch it again.