Great horror, at its core, has always been a mirror of the societal values during the time frame in which it was created. What scares us as a collective whole? Those films that tap into that phenomenon have always been the most successful and the most memorable. While not the only interpretations, Frankenstein can be seen as a warning of technology and science gone awry. Invasion of the Body Snatchers is a clear allegory to fear of Communism. Godzilla teaches us to be wary of nuclear experimentation. Texas Chainsaw Massacre can be seen as a flower child awakening in a post-Vietnam US. Even the slasher flicks of the 80's are modern-day fairy tales exaggerating the dangers of sexual experimentation in a time of STDs and AIDS. What we have not seen as of yet is a reflection of our society in a post 9/11 world. One where the terror is in not knowing where the terror may be and one of ourselves being the monster, the aggressor, and the hated. Hostel may be the first to point in that direction.
Hostel begins almost as a light-hearted, albeit X-rated, sister film to 2004's Eurotrip. We begin as our "heroes" arrive in Amsterdam looking for ganja and sex not necessarily in that order. Paxton, the alpha male, and Josh, the sensitive one (think Favreau's character in Swingers) during their backpacking trip, have picked up Oli, a do-anything-anyone Icelander who comes along for the ride - so to speak. The trio jumps from dance club to hash bar to red light district leaving no pot unsmoked and no whore untapped. When they arrive at their Hostel after curfew, they are saved by a stranger who guides them to Eastern Europe with the promises of women who are as easy as they are beautiful. Then things, as they say, turn south.
For the first 45 minutes, Hostel revels in its Cinemax After Dark qualities. Tanned breasts, trimmed pubic regions, and voluptuous rear-ends are all on display in various states of coitus however as the groups travels to Bratislava, they begin to encounter the creepiness and perversion that only a piece of the defunct Soviet empire can provide. One by one our protagonists begin to disappear after being lured away from the group by a nubile, young, topless women. As they soon learn, they have been duped. They find themselves on the bad end of a scheme that offers up live subjects that, for a price, can be tortured and killed in any manner in which your sick heart can dream.
Utilizing my SAT skills - What the first 45 minutes are to breasts, the remaining 50 are to blood and gore. Hostel includes, but is not limited to, human drilling, Achilles slicing, unpleasant eyeball removal, chainsaw induced leg removal, and a savage beating resulting in a caved-in skull.
While Hostel may not ever be shown in MoMA, it does present an interesting portrayal of American attitudes of ourselves and those from the outside. Our backpackers are the ugliest of the ugly Americans. Young and wealthy and with no concern for the consequences of their actions, they drink and fornicate their way across Europe and are despised by everyone outside of the young women who are impressed with foreign accents. Americans bring the highest price of all of the people you can torture for a price. Lastly, when the film turns toward revenge, the infliction of pain and torture to those that had hurt the Americans is just as violent and is handed out with an ask no questions, kill 'em all mentality.
Is Hostel fine art? Probably not. Is Hostel great horror? It is close. The problem with Hostel is that is never really presents itself as scary. By the time the main characters get to the place of torture, the audience has been numbed by endless sex scenes and unlike those being tortured, we all know where they are going to end up. Basically outside of inventive ways to mutilate, Hostel offers nothing of a surprise and thus offers very little in the ways of scares (unless of course you are planning a trip to Europe anytime soon.) What we are left with are the elements of great horror; the reckless bravado, the moral depravity, buckets of blood, and the promise of an even gorier sequel.
Hostel is 95 minutes long and stars the linebacker from Friday Night Lights and the guy who played young Jeff Daniels in D&Derer. It is rated R for countless breasts, a single beaver, and many, many other body parts that were not connected to other body parts. Mandrake grade: B+
Hostel begins almost as a light-hearted, albeit X-rated, sister film to 2004's Eurotrip. We begin as our "heroes" arrive in Amsterdam looking for ganja and sex not necessarily in that order. Paxton, the alpha male, and Josh, the sensitive one (think Favreau's character in Swingers) during their backpacking trip, have picked up Oli, a do-anything-anyone Icelander who comes along for the ride - so to speak. The trio jumps from dance club to hash bar to red light district leaving no pot unsmoked and no whore untapped. When they arrive at their Hostel after curfew, they are saved by a stranger who guides them to Eastern Europe with the promises of women who are as easy as they are beautiful. Then things, as they say, turn south.
For the first 45 minutes, Hostel revels in its Cinemax After Dark qualities. Tanned breasts, trimmed pubic regions, and voluptuous rear-ends are all on display in various states of coitus however as the groups travels to Bratislava, they begin to encounter the creepiness and perversion that only a piece of the defunct Soviet empire can provide. One by one our protagonists begin to disappear after being lured away from the group by a nubile, young, topless women. As they soon learn, they have been duped. They find themselves on the bad end of a scheme that offers up live subjects that, for a price, can be tortured and killed in any manner in which your sick heart can dream.
Utilizing my SAT skills - What the first 45 minutes are to breasts, the remaining 50 are to blood and gore. Hostel includes, but is not limited to, human drilling, Achilles slicing, unpleasant eyeball removal, chainsaw induced leg removal, and a savage beating resulting in a caved-in skull.
While Hostel may not ever be shown in MoMA, it does present an interesting portrayal of American attitudes of ourselves and those from the outside. Our backpackers are the ugliest of the ugly Americans. Young and wealthy and with no concern for the consequences of their actions, they drink and fornicate their way across Europe and are despised by everyone outside of the young women who are impressed with foreign accents. Americans bring the highest price of all of the people you can torture for a price. Lastly, when the film turns toward revenge, the infliction of pain and torture to those that had hurt the Americans is just as violent and is handed out with an ask no questions, kill 'em all mentality.
Is Hostel fine art? Probably not. Is Hostel great horror? It is close. The problem with Hostel is that is never really presents itself as scary. By the time the main characters get to the place of torture, the audience has been numbed by endless sex scenes and unlike those being tortured, we all know where they are going to end up. Basically outside of inventive ways to mutilate, Hostel offers nothing of a surprise and thus offers very little in the ways of scares (unless of course you are planning a trip to Europe anytime soon.) What we are left with are the elements of great horror; the reckless bravado, the moral depravity, buckets of blood, and the promise of an even gorier sequel.
Hostel is 95 minutes long and stars the linebacker from Friday Night Lights and the guy who played young Jeff Daniels in D&Derer. It is rated R for countless breasts, a single beaver, and many, many other body parts that were not connected to other body parts. Mandrake grade: B+