Jojo Anwar’s Ghost in the Cell trafficks in all the tropes of the male prison pic: a tyrannical warden, solitary confinement, drug gangs, slop as food, the threat of shower rape and so on. Its market differentiator, however, is a malevolent spirit that tears, twists and turns its murder victims into grotesque death tableaux à la TV’s Hannibal.

Enlisting several of his Satan’s Slaves actors, Anwar focuses on fresh meat Dimas (Endy Arfian), a meek journalist wrongly convicted for the killing of his abusive boss. The actual culprit is the wraith, which follows Dimas behind bars and takes the corporeal form of its targets during slaughter (thereby distinguishing itself from Renny Harlin’s Prison). It’s like seeing double, except only one is covered in trypophobic skin. As the ghost makes its way from prisoner to prisoner, they shout themselves hoarse over this supernatural force.

Predictably, Ghost in the Cell excels in these sequences, from the initial skirmish to the reveal of the resulting macabre centerpiece, borrowing pieces of Riki-Oh’s operatic insanity in between. As the minutes tick by, the level of humor increases, and unfortunately, that’s where the Indonesian film misses.

Perhaps chalked up to a clash of cultures, the comedy is broader and even slapstickier than what this country’s accustomed to — a pube-laden bar of soap for a sight gag, sure; a full-on dance scene choreographed by an effeminate inmate, you can keep it. And when the dancing extends to a joyous cast-and-crew montage during the closing credits, you’ve effectively neutered all the bite that came before. —Rod Lott

In theaters Friday, Oct. 2.