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When her great aunt dies, famous horror hostess Elvira heads for the uptight New England town Falwell to claim her inheritance of a haunted house, a witch's cookbook and a punk rock poodle. But once the stuffy locals get an eyeful of the scream queen's ample assets, all hell busts out and breaks loose. Can the Madonna of the Macabre find love with a studly cinema owner, avoid her creepy great uncle, titillate the town's teens and become a Las Vegas dance sensation all without being burned alive at the stake?
Despite its mildly raunchy tone and obsession with Peterson's considerable cleavage, the film is a decent, good-hearted comedy that never takes itself seriously.
It's not just dumb fun. The script contains a few genuinely smart one-liners (even if the relentless flood of innuendo will weary even the hardiest Carry On fans) and there's far more to Elvira than a perilously plunging neckline.
A predictable plot and cheapskate effects deaden Elvira's occasional witty lines, while references to the horror genre make the film busy without going anywhere.