House of Wax argues that for every pair of twins, one is awful and one is good. When it comes to classic films and remakes, the same also usually holds true, a fact bolstered by this lousy Jaume Serra-directed reimagining of 1953’s Vincent Price chiller. Maintaining only the title and central conceit of its predecessor, this flashy, derivative riff on The Texas Chainsaw Massacre involves Carly (Elisha Cuthbert), her ex-con twin brother Nick (Chad Michael Murray), and their group of friends – including the abominable Paris Hilton – as they camp out in the woods on their way to a “big game,” discover an abandoned town dominated by the titular house, and wind up being hunted by a serial killer who likes to turn his victims into wax sculptures. Its grimy aesthetic (which mimics the constantly ripped-off Seven) and rote fiend (who looks like Geddy Lee crossed with Leatherface) are tiresomely familiar, and there’s a preposterous illogicality to a wax museum being made of actual wax (and, thus, extremely susceptible to fire). By and large, House of Wax is simply a mundane slasher flick populated by blandly pretty people who look really good in sweaty tank tops. Yet the film gets bonus points for Hilton’s videotaped spike-through-the-forehead death scene, which (more so than an earlier, direct reference) proves to be a mordantly amusing allusion to the heiress’ infamous sex tape and a sly riff on our culture’s morbid, love-hate fascination with celebrity.