It should be immediately obvious to the wayward young travelers of “House of Wax” that something is horribly amiss in the remote country town of Ambrose. The signs are literally everywhere.

For instance, there's a sign at the service station that proclaims gas for sale at $1.19 a gallon (at those prices, we'd drink it). There's also a marquee at the movie theater that touts a screening of “What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?” (take it from me — a town the size of Ambrose has no business operating a revival theater). And what about the billboard that invites visitors to the House of Wax, a roadside attraction all but hidden from the outside world? Danger, you horny, dull-witted teenagers, danger!

Of course, if you saw the original 1953 version of “House of Wax” — starring the inimitable Vincent Price and widely billed as the first studio movie made in 3-D — you already know the rub: All of Ambrose is a House of Wax. Or, more precisely, a flytrap, an elaborate wax hoax designed to lure and assimilate unsuspecting visitors.

With the likes of Paris Hilton bringing down their collective IQ, these unsuspecting visitors never stand a chance. As estranged siblings Carly and Nick, Elisha Cuthbert (“The Girl Next Door”) and Chad Michael Murray (“A Cinderella Story”) play roadside campers who go into Ambrose looking for a fan belt and instead see their travel companions murdered one by one by an outwardly normal mechanic (Brian Van Holt) and his mute twin brother, whose favorite hobby involves embalming his still-breathing victims in wax and adding them to the museum upstairs.

Granted, it's a truly grotesque MO, and director Jaume Serra is capable enough to summon the occasional drafts of dread and decay. Along with those moments — including the finale, which is pure schlock overkill — “House of Wax” is a veritable mausoleum of guilty pleasures, with one that stands out: When Hilton, playing Carly and Nick's skanky pal Paige, finally buys the farm, a recent screening audience erupted like it was the Miracle on Ice.