Hmmmm. I'm kinda at a loss here. I mean, I know I liked Death Bed, I know I'll be spreading the gospel of Death Bed to all my friends and acquaintances, and if you're reading this, I urge you to see Death Bed, but I can't really say why. Perhaps that's the secret of its charm.<br /><br />Plot? Well, sort of. There's this bed that eats people (and fried chicken, apples, flowers, suitcases, and any other darn thing that gets near it) by sucking them inside its digestive-fluid filled mattress. Amongst its near-limitless powers, Bed has the ability to keep the spirit of Aubrey Beardsley trapped behind a picture to observe and narrate the events of the film. Various people then wind up at Bed's abandoned mansion (Bed's habit of eating anything that moves gave the place an unsavory reputation), and lay down to have sex, or take a nap, or because they don't feel well, and get eaten, sometimes having trippy dreams first. And in the end we have the explosive final confrontation between Beardsley, Bed's mom (you had to be there), and Bed.<br /><br />Seems rather straightforward, when I put it like that, doesn't it - well, except for the Aubrey Beardsley part. But something feels constantly off-kilter, and the story seems to glide sleepily from one scene to the next, even when indulging in cheap laughs or strange gore effects. Imagine Bunel crossed with Bergman, then left to soak in a big vat of Herschell Gordon Lewis. The tone of the story shifts from horror, to fairy tale, to comedy, to existential meditation, without breaking stride - an incredible achievement for a no-budget student film shot in the Detroit area.<br /><br />All in all, an astounding little film that, quite probably, no review can ever completely do justice. See it for yourself.