David O'ConnellThe Ruins
September 16th 2009 04:36
Author Scott B. Smith was in no rush to get his second novel published after the success of A Simple Plan and its later Sam Raimi adaptation for the big screen. After an interminable 13 year delay The Ruins was published to rave reviews in 2006 and horror master Stephen King was one of its most enthusiastic fans – not surprisingly given its pulp-horror nature. So how does the inevitable adaptation, offered to first time director Carter Smith, fare?
On the level of gory B-grade fun, quite well; in its favour there’s an uncomplicated set-up and little delay before the body count begins to rise. A quartet of American tourists are sunbathing in Mexico when a German, Mathias (Joe Anderson), catches their eye. Subtly he lures them into partaking of his mission to find a mysterious, archeologically-unproven Mayan temple. It means venturing off the beaten track on the last day of their holiday and comes with grave risks attached, but foolhardy and in no doubt of their immortality, they decide to tag along in the name of adventure.
Before long their assembled group has convinced a reluctant local cabby – whose lone words in English after spotting their intended destination on a map should be warning enough: “This place – no good!” – to drop them off in the bowels of the tangled wilderness. They soon find a barely concealed entrance to a walkway leading to the temple site before the most disposable member of their party - Mathias’s Greek guide - receives an instant lobotomy from enraged natives bearing arms and incomprehensible expletives. Possessed by fear for their lives those remaining are herded up to the temple’s flat upper surface to quarrel frantically about what course of action to take.
Little do they know they’re being primed as human sacrifices for the blood-thirsty plant life that engulfs much of the ancient rock formation like a protective shroud. Indeed, these are not your ordinary vines, in a neat twist capable of cleverly deceiving their prey in a quest for turning their limbs into mulch. After establishing the hopelessness of the group’s predicament - trapped upon the temple with no escape route other than into the arms of killers – director Smith wisely allows the special effects unit to have its fun and trample all over these doomed travelers as if with a very large machete kit.
Though mild suspense is generated in a few scenes, empathetic response is no consideration; indisputably, this is a film populated by shallow, generally unrelatable characters whose potential development is undermined by limitations of the almost single location scenario. But for genre aficionados with a bloodlust sharpened on explicit, ripening wounds and just gagging to witness the ruthless revenge of the natural world against human intruders, there’s ghoulish satisfaction to be had.
The acting is strictly perfunctory, though Jonathan Tucker as unofficial leader of the group is reasonably good. There are also ample opportunities for females Jena Malone and Laura Ramsey to test out their lung capacities amidst the carnage of stabbings, body infiltration and makeshift amputations. I didn't mind this at all, but don’t eat a big meal before you sit down to watch it.
On the level of gory B-grade fun, quite well; in its favour there’s an uncomplicated set-up and little delay before the body count begins to rise. A quartet of American tourists are sunbathing in Mexico when a German, Mathias (Joe Anderson), catches their eye. Subtly he lures them into partaking of his mission to find a mysterious, archeologically-unproven Mayan temple. It means venturing off the beaten track on the last day of their holiday and comes with grave risks attached, but foolhardy and in no doubt of their immortality, they decide to tag along in the name of adventure.
Before long their assembled group has convinced a reluctant local cabby – whose lone words in English after spotting their intended destination on a map should be warning enough: “This place – no good!” – to drop them off in the bowels of the tangled wilderness. They soon find a barely concealed entrance to a walkway leading to the temple site before the most disposable member of their party - Mathias’s Greek guide - receives an instant lobotomy from enraged natives bearing arms and incomprehensible expletives. Possessed by fear for their lives those remaining are herded up to the temple’s flat upper surface to quarrel frantically about what course of action to take.
Say goodbye for the last time - suckers!
Little do they know they’re being primed as human sacrifices for the blood-thirsty plant life that engulfs much of the ancient rock formation like a protective shroud. Indeed, these are not your ordinary vines, in a neat twist capable of cleverly deceiving their prey in a quest for turning their limbs into mulch. After establishing the hopelessness of the group’s predicament - trapped upon the temple with no escape route other than into the arms of killers – director Smith wisely allows the special effects unit to have its fun and trample all over these doomed travelers as if with a very large machete kit.
Though mild suspense is generated in a few scenes, empathetic response is no consideration; indisputably, this is a film populated by shallow, generally unrelatable characters whose potential development is undermined by limitations of the almost single location scenario. But for genre aficionados with a bloodlust sharpened on explicit, ripening wounds and just gagging to witness the ruthless revenge of the natural world against human intruders, there’s ghoulish satisfaction to be had.
The acting is strictly perfunctory, though Jonathan Tucker as unofficial leader of the group is reasonably good. There are also ample opportunities for females Jena Malone and Laura Ramsey to test out their lung capacities amidst the carnage of stabbings, body infiltration and makeshift amputations. I didn't mind this at all, but don’t eat a big meal before you sit down to watch it.
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Comment by Matt Shea
20/20 Filmsight
Comment by David O'Connell
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