A group of teenagers on the way across state are diverted towards a deserted town. Circumstances see them split up, and eventually they are drawn towards the mysterious wax museum at the top of the hill
Audiences will flock to this for two reasons - either they want to see Paris Hilton in her undies, or they want to see her horribly killed. But if you're hoping for something like the 1953 Vincent Price version, this remake is an unwelcome shock. The plot has devolved into the broken-down car/creepy house set-up of a thousand horrors, and the irritating teen heroes barely qualify as stock characters, only hastily sketched before the slaughter begins. Worse, the pathos of Price's madman has been entirely lost, except for a half-hearted attempt at empathy in the final reel.
While the violence is nasty enough to provide some good scares, it's all as nonsensical as the idea of a house literally made of wax - which, in an attempt at wit, the film also provides. Horrific, but not necessarily in a good way.