Stop anybody on the street and ask them what their favourite Paris Hilton movie is, and chances are they'll say: “Is this a real survey? Why don't you have a pen or a clipboard? Oh my God, are you mugging me? Please, take everything, just don't hurt me!” Or they might, just might reply: “House of Wax”.
I'm pretty certain Vincent Price is dead, so I can say with tolerable confidence that this remake of his 1953 classic would cause him to turn over in his grave. I'm not sure why, it's just something the dead are supposed to do when they're ticked off – when Bill O'Reilly finally throws a seven, he'll most likely come close to perpetual motion.
But the sight of the insufferable, uber-spoilt heiress being stalked by a raving psycho intent on ramming a metal pole through her skull isn't the only reason for watching this movie. OK, it is the only reason, but damned if it ain't a good one. If they could've found a way to work it into Norbit, I would've watched that, too. In fact, it'd make the basis of a terrific reality series. Excuse me, I have to put in a call to Fox...
