There’s nothing partiularly new about the premise of Madhouse. A university student requests a chance to work in a mental hospital in order to cpmplete his grade. What he finds there to his horror is that the doctors and those duty bound to take care of those who cannot do so for themselves, are more brutal and insane than the patients themselves.

Our protagonist it seems, has his own skeletons in the proverbial closet which reveal themselves as teh film progresses. There’s also a level of superstition and ghostly appareitions that make themselves knmonw, however, this may just be be case of mental patients with issues about talking to dead people. The fiolm takes elemtns of several well known horrors and tries to meld them into one pot, offering little in the way of anything refreshing.

We’re given the usual dosage of red herrings, distractions and the “whodunnit” syndrome, all of which don’t really endear the viewer (or at least this viewer) to the film. The acting is not bad, it’s typical b-movie fair, woth the suspicous seering stres, blank canvas faces, and an other horror cliche you care to mention. I feel sorry of r Lance Henrikson, he has made anything credible for a long, long time – relegated to low budget fanfare which offers little for him. Although he did start his career (as did most his ilk) in low-budget films.

Everyone else hams up the acting now and again, with the obvious sexual connection between two of the characters, and the the overbearing suspicion that they don’t trust each other because one of the them ends may actually be the kilelr, or of course it could be another red herring.

We’re given the usual dosage of red herrings, distractions and the “whodunnit” syndrome

There are scenes of gratuitous violence, but directed in a fashion akin to a 12 year old with a camera ebing wild and mismanaged often. YOu never get a sense of dread, or fear when death does occur – and often it’s a case of blink and you’ll miss it. It’s a bloody film too, but not in a horror way, but more of a “there’s so much ketchup around” way. Nothing convinced you about the film, nothing scares you, and the token scenes of sex and violence add nothing to the story, which in itself is rubbish.

I didn’t like the acting, the characters, nor the story. It’s been done better, and I’d even go as far as saying the campness of the old Hammer horror films would rank superior to this mess of a film. The lead is about as charasmatic as a skinned hyena, with the only expression available to him a zombified look of someone on Prozac or Paroxetine. One more dosage and he would probably be knocked out, though it might improve his acting.

Madhouse is rubbish with a capital R. You shouldn’t want it, because it will only drepress you to think that films this poor still exist. Do not seek, and be merry. Let this piece of junk resign itself to the bargain basement, ready for some poor sap to pick. I’d rather chew my arm off than watch this.

Verdict: A bad, bad film. It should be bent over and spanked with a hot iron rod.