While not a complete departure from Corman's usual fare, this story-driven little film is a far cry from the usual shlocky monster breast-fests.
The story itself is compelling. It's the story of a man who no longer wants to live but can't get up the nerve to kill himself. Through a chance encounter, he discovers the Suicide Club, a group of people who play a "Russian Roulette" of sorts with an interesting wrinkle --whoever draws the ace of spades gets to die, but whoever draws the ace of clubs must be the killer. The protagonist thinks this is the solution to his problems until he meets a female member and rediscovers his will to live. Despite occasionally slow pacing, the story is compelling enough to keep you drawn in.
The plot and characters are based on Robert Louis Stevenson's short stories and, while the film does play a bit loosely with the plot, it's understandable given that Stevenson's stories were fairly disconnected and very short. It'd be difficult to make a completely faithful version. Thankfully, the movie manages to keep Stevenson's best scenes.
The budget is small, and it shows in places, but the movie makes up for it with a couple of outstanding performances. Notable is Jonathan Pryce who is charmingly sinister as the president of the club.
In short, this is a nice surprise from the Corman camp.