THE FIFTH FLOOR
Not Farrah Fawcett, but an incredible simulation
(Much to the confusion of several people, I accidentally posted this review to another newsgroup. Now I must return it to its natural state. And please, guys, - go destroy a copy of Dracula Rising.)
No, actually, it's Shannon Farrell, but she's doing a damn fine 18-years-before-the-fact imitation of Fawcett's recent discarding of all her mental faculties.
Apparently based on a true story, this one's about a pretty young college student who passes out on the disco dance floor of what's revealed later to be strychnine poisoning. Assuming she tried to kill herself, her boyfriend and doctor have her committed to the Fifth Floor of the hospital, where needless to say they keep all the crazy people. Yeah, it's one of those "But I'm sane!" movies.
Escaping this place doesn't look like much of a problem - all that stands between this girl and freedom is an eight-foot chain-link fence, and in another scene, a day trip to the zoo, but yes, she manages to screw both of those up.
The poor girl has to contend not only with a predatory orderly, but with a psycho killer who's in this minimum-security joint because his dad's a doctor. Does that make sense to anyone else?
Loaded with unbelievably bad and inappropriate disco music, this one has no less than three disco dance numbers.
Features Robert Englund in a small role as a patient who does a pretty funny Dracula impression.
Move along, folks. Move along.