Four vacationing hotties stumble onto a deserted resort hotel while searching for seaside kicks. Of course, in a movie with a title like Mansion of the Living Dead (1985), they (and we) find out that the hotel is not quite as deserted as it first appeared to be. Seems a cult of Satan-worshipping monks has run of the joint and—wouldn't you know it—they're always in the market for naked nubiles to sacrifice in honor of their dark lord. Mansion of the Living Dead is a prime example of hyper-prolific Spanish auteur Jesus Franco whipping up a heady concoction of flesh and frights. Female guests check in . . . and their clothes check out.