Hostel
Contrary to what you may think I'm not really a fan of scary movies unless they involve
zombies, Samuel L. Jackson being eaten by a big-ass shark or are very tongue in cheek. It's
not so much that I have any problems with the genre as a whole; I just don't particularly care
for the devices used to generate fear in your average horror movie. There are, in fact, only
three such devices:
1- Something... POPS OUT OF NOWHERE ON THE SCREEN!
2- Graphic torture.
3- Violins and terse dialogue (I.E. - M. Night Shayamalramalama's entire catalog).
Movies about zombies are always good, for a very specific reason: the protagonists actually
fight back, utilize superior tactics and firepower and, sometimes, even survive. The fact that
zombies are dead anyhow leaves no moral objection in my mind upon seeing them sodomized
with flaming, pointy sticks or gutted by jagged ice cream scoops. But seeing the same
methods of torture applied to actual living characters just makes me want to close my eyes.
Perhaps this makes me a pussy; I can live with that as I can, in all likelihood, kick your ass.
The problem with Hostel is the whole second act; it's just totally disgusting. I mean REALLY
gross, over the top gross. I used to dig movie effects that could actually make my eyes close
in disgust but as somebody who's actually had somebody else's brains in his hand (I was a
paramedic for a few years), I can tell you that such and experience is not nearly as gnarly as
the torture scenes in Hostel. What compounds the gross out factor- and was likely intentional
by the director and, though I hate to admit it, brilliant- is that the first act of the film is littered
with big, beautiful titties attached to attractive women. In fact, I don't think that there is one
second of the first forty-five minutes of Hostel that isn't chock full of bouncing boobies. Then
there's eyeballs getting burned out, Achilles tendons being severed, limbs being hacked to
pieces with a meat cleaver and, finally, fingers being mutilated by a chainsaw. Yet, for some
reason, the director cuts away when a guy gets his throat cut like that would just be too much.
Weird.
The third act saves the film, in my book. One character winds up escaping his tormenters and
murders one of the bad guys in the bathroom of a European train station. I supported that
scene as it provides some closure but deftly leaves room for a sequel- something else that
seems to plague horror film franchises (and Star Wars), the endless sequels.
As my cousin Matt noted, there really isn't anything more disgusting in Hostel than you can
find on network television, the difference being that shows like CSI and Nip/Tuck are
marketed as hip and cool, not splatter-fests. I'd hazard to guess that if one remade the torture
scenes from Hostel - only this time using a cool, techno soundtrack and dressing everybody
up in lab coats - and, say, made the brutal incisions to remove plastic breast implants full of
heroin, you would have a hit on your hands. Especially if you put David Caruso in it, the
world's greatest actor... if by 'actor' you mean 'dickhead.'
Contrary to what you may think I'm not really a fan of scary movies unless they involve
zombies, Samuel L. Jackson being eaten by a big-ass shark or are very tongue in cheek. It's
not so much that I have any problems with the genre as a whole; I just don't particularly care
for the devices used to generate fear in your average horror movie. There are, in fact, only
three such devices:
1- Something... POPS OUT OF NOWHERE ON THE SCREEN!
2- Graphic torture.
3- Violins and terse dialogue (I.E. - M. Night Shayamalramalama's entire catalog).
Movies about zombies are always good, for a very specific reason: the protagonists actually
fight back, utilize superior tactics and firepower and, sometimes, even survive. The fact that
zombies are dead anyhow leaves no moral objection in my mind upon seeing them sodomized
with flaming, pointy sticks or gutted by jagged ice cream scoops. But seeing the same
methods of torture applied to actual living characters just makes me want to close my eyes.
Perhaps this makes me a pussy; I can live with that as I can, in all likelihood, kick your ass.
The problem with Hostel is the whole second act; it's just totally disgusting. I mean REALLY
gross, over the top gross. I used to dig movie effects that could actually make my eyes close
in disgust but as somebody who's actually had somebody else's brains in his hand (I was a
paramedic for a few years), I can tell you that such and experience is not nearly as gnarly as
the torture scenes in Hostel. What compounds the gross out factor- and was likely intentional
by the director and, though I hate to admit it, brilliant- is that the first act of the film is littered
with big, beautiful titties attached to attractive women. In fact, I don't think that there is one
second of the first forty-five minutes of Hostel that isn't chock full of bouncing boobies. Then
there's eyeballs getting burned out, Achilles tendons being severed, limbs being hacked to
pieces with a meat cleaver and, finally, fingers being mutilated by a chainsaw. Yet, for some
reason, the director cuts away when a guy gets his throat cut like that would just be too much.
Weird.
The third act saves the film, in my book. One character winds up escaping his tormenters and
murders one of the bad guys in the bathroom of a European train station. I supported that
scene as it provides some closure but deftly leaves room for a sequel- something else that
seems to plague horror film franchises (and Star Wars), the endless sequels.
As my cousin Matt noted, there really isn't anything more disgusting in Hostel than you can
find on network television, the difference being that shows like CSI and Nip/Tuck are
marketed as hip and cool, not splatter-fests. I'd hazard to guess that if one remade the torture
scenes from Hostel - only this time using a cool, techno soundtrack and dressing everybody
up in lab coats - and, say, made the brutal incisions to remove plastic breast implants full of
heroin, you would have a hit on your hands. Especially if you put David Caruso in it, the
world's greatest actor... if by 'actor' you mean 'dickhead.'
