Oh, sure, Death Bed seems pleasant enough at first. Downright inviting, even. Clean sheets. Nice purple satin.
Sure, everybody thinks they like sex and fried chicken until...
Did you read the title first, dummy? This movie proves that a lot of people just can't read.
Uhhh, Death Bed. The bed eats chicks, it eats gangsters, it eats a bunch of lesbians, it eats a few swingers who movie it out into the yard for an orgy. It eats chicken, it eats apples, it drinks wine.
It has some Pepto Bismol then
Eats this dipshit's hands.
Death Bed. You'll never make a movie this good so don't knock it. Oh, oh, shit, I forgot something...
The Garwood Mansion. Where Death Bed was filmed.
As seen from the east side of the Detroit River
Demolished in 1983 after decades of being vandalized by school children. Another forsaken place lost forever. But immortalized in the film Death Bed: The bed that eats. Anyway, love this film and its surreal feel and especially love Garwood Mansion.
One last shot of Garwood as we say goodbye.
January 25, 2015: Really needed to do more text in these older blogs. Maybe say something about Patton Oswalt's comedy bit about Death bed or something. I'm constantly fascinated by director/writer/producers who only made one movie. Did they only ever have one idea, and once they realized their vision were satisfied. Did they learn how horrible and tedious the process of filmmaking is and start selling used cars instead? Did they just stop caring? I often wonder, because the creative process is so demanding you couldn't make a movie without really caring and being committed to it.