As the title suggests, Death Spa is the bone-chilling tale of a haunted spa that kills anyone fool enough to tone their Herculean lats within its four walls. It unleashes its fury on its hapless victims via bone-cracking exercise machines, volcanic saunas, and exploding vanity mirrors.
It also inexplicably wields frozen fish, because the producers quickly realized that there are only so many ways a person can die at the gym.
Presenting No. 17.
Getting murdered by inanimate objects has proven to be a successful formula -- just look at all the sequels for The Omen and Final Destination -- but Death Spa is unique in that it requires people to be inside a 1980s health club to be in any sort of danger. This is a somewhat limited pool to draw from, and once word got around that people were getting killed by the exercise equipment, we imagine the membership fees would dry up.
You can understand the brilliance of great films by watching terrible ones; for instance, here you suddenly understand that whole plot point in Jaws about how the town depended on tourism and intentionally gave beachgoers a false sense of security about the shark. Otherwise the audience is going, "Damn, can't these people just not go swimming for a while?" We dare say that Death Spa did not put as much thought into it. Beyond pointing out the obvious fact that a butterfly press cannot possibly kill someone the way it does in the film, no matter how much weight you put on it ...
Seriously, it can't pivot back beyond its own fulcrum. Read a book.