But didn't you see ! Of course, he injected himself with a drug to slow his heartrate for the exact length of time to the second that he'd been able to predict Whannel and Elwes would get to the whole 'sawing' thing. Didn't you see!!!...
An entire picture predicated on the off-chance your unpredictable disciple is going to go off the rails at the exact moment your new victim breaks free ? A new victim, by the way, who you must have been able to keep awesomely close tabs on from your hospital bed and labyrinthine lair while your entire life was spent setting up massive iron-wrought contraptions ?
Kudos to Bouseman for duping some hefty dough out of the cinema-going public, but I hope beyond hope this doesn't get him some rep as a 'good' horror director. Nothing that works in the picture (which is very little) is anything to do with the direction.
Hostel may be a grim, if lightweight, romp, but it has leagues more style, wit, verve, pace and heart than this awful, pointlesly nihilistic series which started pretty good and went downhill faster than Police Academy: Assignment Miami Beach.
There's a Kevin Smith-circa-1994-style observational skit in there somewhere about the skilled iron-monger population of the West coast that has assisted Jigsaw since whenever-it-was-his-plan-started (and whatever length hair Shawnee SMith had at the time):
"You want what? A 3 ton crucifix with a rack attachment for twisting limbs? What's this for now?"
Thank you, youth of America. Thank you and you annoying capacity for lapping gratingly edited, hideously reductive gore-porn.
At least I went in on a comp ticket.
