You can make the argument, as some have with Tarantino (he executive-produced the film, which was written and directed by Eli Noth), that the gore itself becomes art, a la Japanese martial arts films where the carnage becomes an abstract, a toy to play with while making pretty pictures, all's fair in love and art. We're not particularly fond of that argument, having spent the duration of both "Kill Bill" movies with hands over eyes.
High art, this isn't. We can say this, however: It does what it does well. You won't be bored. You will be grossed out. Even if you like that type of thing. You could argue that, by portraying rich yuppies paying to sate their lust for gore, Noth is sending up American greed and sense of entitlement. Arguing that would be a waste of time. "Hostel" ain't that deep.
Noth builds suspense slowly, spending a good amount of time on the hedonistic forays of the three main characters, Paxton (Jay Hernandez), Josh (Derek Richardson) and Oli (Eythor Gudjonsson), though character development is given exceedingly short shrift. We get that Josh is a writer (read: sensitive ) who just broke up with his college girlfriend and is so over it. Really , he's fine. Oli's a little older, and he comes from Iceland. Or maybe it's Israel; the film isn't so clear on this. And the California-born and -bred Paxton, who looks as Chicano-boy-next-door as they come, at one crucial moment, inexplicably claims he's not American and then breaks out in native-sounding German (or is it Dutch?). We never learn why.
Paxton, Oli and, to a lesser degree, Josh want one thing, and one thing only: sex. (They use another word for it.) And they'll pretty much do anything for it, even hopping a train through Eastern Europe where they share a car with a creepy guy who rubs Josh's thigh and eats salad with his hands.
They're weirded out, but they soon forget all about the thigh-rubbing-and-eating-with-hands thing once they arrive at the hostel, where "Pulp Fiction" is playing in the lobby and where booking a "semi-private room" means bunking with beauteous accented babes who seem to have misplaced their blouses.
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