What Happens In Vegas Dies In Vegas

When Eli Roth’s Hostel hit cinemas way back in 2006, the horror industry took note in a way that would, in the opinions of many a purist, damn the mainstream for some time. Due to the juggernaut success of the then-fresh Saw series, Hostel’s box office boom cemented the so-called torture porn subgenre as a viable, financially sound investment for theatrical releases.

What followed was mostly uninspired cash-ins like The Collector and Captivity before audiences grew tired of dark lighting and disembowelments. The real shame in all this is that perhaps the subgenre’s best film—Hostel: Part II—was simply made too late. By 2007, everyone from George Romero to New York Magazine were tired of Saw-ish style, and though Roth’s sequel was smart and satirical, critics and ticketbuyers were simply too tired to give it a chance.

Hostel: Part III is the franchise’s first go-around without Roth onboard. In some ways, this particular threequel debuts (to DVD) with a lot of pressure on its bloody shoulders: can this become a profitable series on premise alone? Is there more to say about people paying for the chance to kill other people, and more importantly, will audiences want to listen?

Or should I just get to the face-peeling already…

Quick Plot: Just like that movie everyone talks about that I haven’t seen The Hangover, a group of good(ish) looking late 20somethings are heading to Vegas for token dull dude Scott’s bachelor party. On board is the wealthy best man Carter, handicapped nice guy Justin, and token obnoxious cretin Mike.  

Mike is a gem. Married to a wife he just loves to call fat, with kids who are surely better off by the end of the film for losing their hate-filled daddy, Mike is marked as Victim #1. After a whole lot of false starts, we finally get to see that transformation happen. With a twist.

The smartest thing Hostel: Part III does is play around with its pre-established formula. The earlier films took place in Eastern Europe, a beautiful and, to common American tourists, generally unchartered region where being abducted is hardly out of the question. Moving the action to the recognizable lands of casinos and vice was a risk, but because Michael D. Weiss’ script has a few tricks up its sleeve, the gamble pays off (ba dom bump Vegas pun, amiright?). We recognize the business of Elite Hunting, with a few new Sin City-appropriate touches.

Hostel was a great idea executed with a little too mean execution. Hostel: Part II was a genuinely clever followup where it felt as though Roth was both expanding his universe and fixing what didn’t work about his original (unlikable protagonists, unabashed misogyny, nameless villains). Scott Spiegel’s Hostel: Part III is far lighter in scope and tone, but it’s quite enjoyable as a continuation of the series. Though the characters are a little too forgettable, their plight is filled with surprises, be it false starts, creepy masks, villainous turns, or suffocation by cockroach.

All part of the fun.

High Points

The opening scene is both entertaining on its own and a great blueprint for the rest of the film to follow: as the previous films showed, you really never know who to trust when it comes to secret societies. Throughout Hostel: Part III, that’s a theme that constantly gets put into play

Low Points

I understand that much like the first film, the men on display are supposed to be alpha male wannabe misogynists who lead you to wonder if they get what’s coming to them. That would be fine if all the crass dialogue was restricted to a character like Mike. But why then put such ugly dialogue in everyone’s mouths? The gang sans Mike seems to revel in discovering the prostitutes they paid for live in mobile homes and can thusly be referred to as trailer trash, while a Ukranian prisoner repeatedly screams"f*ggot" while kicking his guard. It leaves an ugly taint on the entire script that makes it hard to say the film isn't, once again, misogynist, racist, sexist, and so on

Lessons Learned

In Vegas, you have to be missing a full week before the cops care to start looking

No matter what your fiancée may say, when his overgrown frat boy friends whisk him away for a weekend of bachelor fun, yes, yes you should indeed be worried

Airbags are great stabilizers for stabbings

Rent/Bury/Buy

Hostel: Part III is not the surprise gem that its predecessor was, but I think I can safely say I enjoyed it far more than the original. The Vegas setting adds necessary refreshment, bringing with it plenty of new quirks in the every-expanding Elite Hunting empire. If the franchise continues to roam the globe in search of new locales, I’ll be happily queuing it up on Instant Watch for years to come. This isn’t really worth a buy or investment of cash, but it’s a well-made straight-to-DVD horror film that has plenty of fun with itself. Give it a spin.

Where's M'Casino Player's Card?

I know what you’re thinking. ‘Here it is St. Patrick’s Day and all Emily could do was act as 85% of the horror blogosphere and post a review of a Leprechaun movie? Way to think inside the box.’

Thanks guys, thanks a lot. Excuse me while I crouch in a corner now and cry, drinking my sorrows away with some Guinness and soaking up my tears with Irish soda bread. All I wanted to do was be seasonal.  

Quick Plot: At a Las Vegas pawn shop, a one-legged/one-eyed man frantically accepts $20 from Gupta (the store owner who politely reminds the audience of his name by referring to himself in the third person) for a brass statue of, you guessed it, a leprechaun.

Who?

A leprechaun!

Herein lies my first (and later, second) issue with Leprechaun 3: at several points in the film, a character asks our titular villain “Who are you?” His answer always remains as thus:

“I’m a leprechaun!”

Yes, by this time in history, Wayne’s World had already cemented that line as a cultural gold coin, but the last time someone asked me who I was, you can bet your buckled shoe my response was not “I’m a human being.”

But why am I wasting time on the details when I’ve got a movie about a leprechaun turning mob goons into human slot machines? Onward!

So Gupta reawakens the unnamed leprechaun, taking one of his shillings while researching leprechaun lore via an adorably dated CD-ROM with Happy Little Elves-like animation. Meanwhile, Scott, the world’s oldest looking 18 year old, is making a Vegas pit stop on his way to college orientation when he stops to pick up Tammy, a frustrated magician’s assistant. Ten minutes later, he’s lost $25,000 at the roulette table (because he’s an idiot) and is desperately trying to pawn his watch across the street.

Naturally, Scott ends up at Gupta’s counter just as the leprechaun is putting on his final kill moves. Like a good midwest boy, Scott calls the police and picks up the missing gold coin, instantly wishing himself back at the casino for an impossible winning streak that makes dealer Caroline Williams (the lovable Slack from Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2) rather suspicious. Because leprechaun gold coins can apparently grant your wishes, Scott indeed DOES end up on an impossible winning streak while Tammy (if you still care) slaves in a leotard for a hilariously Gob-like magician named Fazio.

In terms of storyline, Leprechaun 3 feels surprisingly complicated, with Scott and Tammy’s pseudo-romance, the sleazy casino owner’s money troubles, Fazio and Caroline Williams’ heist, and the leprechaun’s rampage all crammed tightly in a brisk 90 minutes. Scott also has a mini-arc regarding a leprechaun bite that transforms him into a gingery potato eating rhymer. Sure.

Despite a cluttered storyline, the film is actually a pretty darn good time. Director Brian Trenchard-Smith (Turkey Shoot) maintains a nice spirit of lightheartedness in every frame, getting energetic performances out of every actor, from the wide-eyed leads to a random Elvis impersonator who yes, teaches a move or two to the leprechaun. Why would he not?

High Points

I love a movie that has fun with its kills, and between the plastic surgery blow-up and robot sex electrocution that seems weirdly foreshadowing that creepy Russian vodka mascot, Leprechaun 3 isn’t lacking

There’s a nice, not too forced comic vibe to some of the supporting characters, particularly with Fazio and the entertaining Williams, but also with a pair of chatty mob goons and some bored surgeons

Low Points

I have an odd pet peeve with unambitious opening credits, which just feel like a time waster rather than mood setter. Leprechaun 3 opens with a black screen and vaguely Irish music playing as we learn about the supporting cast and composers. Just start the leprechauning already

Lessons Learned

A Fazio is a mediocre magician who couldn’t pull a rabbit out of a pet store

Without his gold, a leprechaun is just a gnome

In Las Vegas, it’s perfectly normal for brass statues of mythical creatures to disappear and be replaced by pots of gold coins. No need to jump or look around for a candid camera

The definition of a Las Vegas penis: heat sinking moisture missile

As a rule, people usually can’t tell you where they’ve hidden your gold when they are dead

A check for $25,000 should cover your first year of college tuition and living expenses

Not to be obvious, but by this point, you've probably had more than your share of Irish Car Bombs, so I'll spell it out for you: be careful what you wish for

Seriously

Rent/Bury/Buy

Look, we all know that the Leprechaun series sort of epitomizes the general consensus that the ‘90s were a nadir in horror franchises, so calling this third installment the best won’t mean a whole lot. Still, Leprechaun 3 is a surprisingly enjoyable little monster flick,  one well aware of its audience and eager to give them the laughs, kills, and occasional nudity (sorry ladies, not of the leprechaun) they expect. It won’t change your life or give you anything close to a nightmare, but for 90 minutes (particularly if found on a bargain triple pack) it will make your Irish eyes smile.