I
walked into the San Antonio Rivercenter Theater all greased up and
ready for what promised to be a good gore flick, Hostel.
I wanted to gag, flinch, and gape in disbelief at the absolute tastelessness
achieved by Eli Roth's direction. That is exactly what happened. 
Unfortunately, the tastelessness stemmed, not from the grotesque content
of the movie, but from the disappointment in Quentin Tarantino's most
recent selection for courtesy production.
There are a few things you should prepare for when you go to see Hostel.
Make sure you bring a lot of people with you and tie a rope between
all party members, because there are plot holes so huge that you may
just fall in.
The only plot twist that will occur here is if the kid behind the
snack counter poured you a Sprite instead of a Coke.
If you are going for the same reason I did: to see a great B-movie-
style bloodbath film, you should prepare yourself for an introductory
hour of attempts at frat boy humor.
The pointless full frontal female nudity plays out more like a loose
script reading of Euro Trip than anything else. Be prepared to groan
and shake your head multiple times.
When the story finally does darken up and dig into hints of horror,
the movie leaves so much to be desired.
The "gore" scenes are short and unfulfilling and while some
scenes will more than certainly make you cringe, the element of fear
is missing.
Even worse, the special effects are so poorly done that at times all
you can do is chuckle at the absolute lack of realism.
The only horrifying thing about this film is that everyone seeing
it will ultimately waste 95 minutes of their lives watching it.
These unfortunate souls should go rent a classic Hitchcock film if
they hope to achieve a feeling of money well spent.
