Okay, fellow tapeheads, dim the lights, maybe pop some popcorn (careful near the VCR!), because tonight we're diving deep into the neon-drenched, sweat-soaked absurdity that is 1988's Death Spa. Just the title alone! It promises a glorious collision of two quintessential 80s obsessions: the fitness craze and buckets of gore. Finding this lurid cover art tucked away in the horror section of the local video store back in the day? That felt like striking gold, a whispered promise of late-night mayhem that your parents definitely wouldn't approve of.
### Welcome to the Starbody Slaughterhouse
Our setting is the Starbody Health Spa, a temple of chrome, computers, and questionable hygiene standards, even before the bodies start piling up. This isn't just any gym; it's a state-of-the-art facility controlled by a sophisticated (for 1988) computer system. Think blinking LEDs, chunky monitors displaying cryptic commands, and the vague promise of optimized workouts. Of course, when spectral forces decide to possess your pec deck, "optimized" takes on a whole new, terrifying meaning. The atmosphere perfectly captures that late-80s vision of the future – clunky, prone to inexplicable malfunctions, and apparently, easily haunted.
The spa is run by Michael Evans (William Bumiller), who seems more concerned with keeping the business afloat than investigating why his clients keep meeting gruesome ends in increasingly inventive ways. He’s got relationship drama with Laura (Brenda Bakke, who always brought a certain grounded presence to genre fare) and is haunted (literally) by the suicide of his wheelchair-bound wife, Catherine. Enter Catherine’s creepy twin brother, David (Merritt Butrick), lurking around the edges with his own sinister connection to the spa's central computer system.
### That's Gonna Leave a Mark: The Glory of Practical Gore
Let's be honest, the reason Death Spa earned its cult status and became a beloved fixture on worn-out VHS tapes isn't the complex character drama. It's the kills. Oh, the glorious, practical-effects-driven kills! This film is a masterclass in gooey, tangible horror from an era before CGI sanitised everything. Remember how real those effects felt, even when utterly outlandish? The poor soul locked in the tanning bed until she literally fries? The infamous locker room door handle sequence? The sheer audacity of death-by-frozen-halibut during a kitchen scene that feels imported from a different, equally bizarre movie?
Director Michael Fischa clearly revelled in showcasing the messy consequences of spectral sabotage. There’s a scene involving a Nautilus machine that is pure nightmare fuel, relying on physical rigging and performance to sell the horror. Compared to today's often weightless digital effects, there's a visceral thump to the mayhem here. You feel the crunch, the squish, the sheer wrongness of machinery turned malevolent. The film's effects team truly earned their paychecks, delivering memorable moments of B-movie splatter that stick with you. It’s this commitment to the physical gag, no matter how ludicrous, that gives Death Spa its enduring charm.
### Ghosts in the Machine (and Behind the Scenes)
The plot, involving Catherine's vengeful spirit using the spa's computer (and her weirdo brother) to exact revenge, is wonderfully convoluted. But it serves its purpose: to string together these elaborate set pieces. Adding a layer of unexpected poignancy is the performance of Merritt Butrick as David. Known to many as Captain Kirk's son in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982) and Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984), Butrick was sadly battling severe illness during the filming of Death Spa in late 1986/early 1987. He tragically passed away from AIDS-related complications in March 1989, shortly before the film received its limited US release (sometimes titled Witch Bitch internationally – charming!). Knowing this context lends his intense, almost frail performance an extra layer of unsettling power. It's a final, memorable role in a career cut far too short. The film itself reportedly had a somewhat troubled journey, filmed earlier but sitting on the shelf before finally creeping onto video store shelves and into our VCRs.
### Peak 80s Aesthetic
Beyond the gore, Death Spa is a time capsule. The synth-heavy score pulsates with that unmistakable 80s urgency. The workout attire – leotards, headbands, leg warmers – is a parade of fluorescent nostalgia. The dialogue is often clunky, but delivered with the earnest conviction required for lines about haunted circuit boards. It doesn't just feature 80s elements; it breathes the 80s, capturing the era's specific blend of technological optimism and lurking anxieties, albeit through a schlocky horror lens. It wasn't exactly a critical darling upon release, but like so many genre gems of the time, it found its audience on home video, passed around between friends with knowing grins.
Rating: 7/10
Justification: While the acting is variable and the plot is pure B-movie nonsense, Death Spa delivers exactly what its title promises: gruesome, inventive kills within a hilariously dated high-tech setting. The practical effects are a joy for retro horror fans, and the performance by Merritt Butrick adds an unexpected layer. It's cheesy, it's gory, it's undeniably 80s, and it's a hell of a lot of fun if you're in the right mood.
Final Thought: Forget SoulCycle; Death Spa is the ultimate reminder that sometimes, the most dangerous thing at the gym isn't pulling a muscle, but the vengeful ghost possessing the smoothie machine. A truly killer workout tape.