By the time Hostel: Part II rolled into theaters in 2007, Eli Roth had achieved the kind of notoriety usually reserved for reality TV contestants and plague rats. His first Hostel film was a sweaty, gruesome little shocker that tapped into post-9/11 paranoia and backpacker dread — or at least pretended to. Audiences fainted, critics clutched their pearls, and Roth was anointed the crown prince of “torture porn.” So naturally, he came back with a sequel that promised to “up the ante.” Unfortunately, that ante was spent entirely on fake blood and Eastern European fog machines.
If Hostel was a nightmare about Americans abroad, Hostel: Part II is the cinematic equivalent of watching a frat boy tell the same joke twice, only louder, slower, and this time with three women instead of two men — because, you know, equality.
The Plot: Or, The Longest PSA Against Study Abroad Ever Made
The movie starts by briefly checking in on Paxton, the survivor from the first Hostel, who now lives like a paranoid squirrel hiding from winter. His girlfriend gets tired of his PTSD and calls him crazy — which, to be fair, is a tough argument to make when your boyfriend’s souvenir from Europe is a missing friend list and several trust issues. Then Roth does what he does best: decapitate the protagonist from the last movie before the opening credits. Paxton’s head is shipped off to Slovakia like a gruesome Amazon package addressed to “Mr. Evil Eurotrash.”
Enter our new victims — sorry, protagonists: Beth (Lauren German), Whitney (Bijou Phillips), and Lorna (Heather Matarazzo). They’re art students in Rome, which in horror terms means “sitting ducks with cultural aspirations.” They meet Axelle, a gorgeous Slovak model whose entire job is to lure tourists to their doom, which she does with all the subtlety of a Times Square scam artist.
The girls agree to a “luxury spa weekend” in Slovakia because clearly none of them have ever seen a horror movie. They take a train ride that feels like a deleted scene from EuroTrip, lose an iPod, and arrive at the hostel where the staff immediately take their passports and upload their photos to the murder version of eBay.
Somewhere, Eli Roth smirks at how clever this is.
Meet the Rich People Who Make Jeff Bezos Look Like a Humanitarian
Meanwhile, across the globe, two American businessmen — Todd (Richard Burgi) and Stuart (Roger Bart) — bid on the right to kill these women. This is where the movie really stretches its social commentary muscles, implying that wealthy men are violent, depraved monsters who would totally pay to torture people if they could. A bold take, truly.
Todd is the loud, fratty type who probably owns a boat named Misdemeanor, while Stuart is his milquetoast sidekick — a guy who looks like he still asks permission before ordering dessert. They’re supposed to represent two halves of toxic masculinity: one overtly cruel, the other repressed and seething. In practice, they just look like two middle managers who wandered off during a corporate retreat.
Lorna’s Big Night Out
Back in Slovakia, Lorna gets invited to a boat ride by a man named Roman, because apparently she’s never read Dateline. Predictably, she wakes up hanging upside down in a gothic murder chamber while a naked woman wields a scythe like she’s auditioning for Cirque du Sadism. The woman slices Lorna’s back open and bathes in her blood, which, to Roth’s credit, is one of the few scenes that actually captures the grotesque beauty he’s probably going for. It’s also the only scene that could double as performance art if you squint hard enough and hate yourself a little.
Beth and Whitney’s Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Spa Day
While Lorna’s being turned into a blood fountain, Beth and Whitney get separated at the spa. Beth wakes up alone, runs into a pack of feral children (because nothing says “danger” like a Slavic youth gang), and is rescued by Sasha, the local elite murderer-slash-gentleman. Roth takes a detour here to remind us that even children in Eastern Europe are terrifying.
Eventually, Beth is captured and wakes up tied to a chair in the infamous killing facility. Stuart, her would-be executioner, enters looking like he just left a divorce mediation. He’s supposed to kill her but can’t quite get in the mood, which is relatable — who hasn’t had an off day at work?
Meanwhile, in another room, Todd tries to saw Whitney but accidentally cuts her, freaks out, and quits mid-murder. The guards promptly feed him to dogs for violating the “no refunds” policy. Honestly, the most realistic workplace discipline scene in the movie.
The Revenge of the Final Girl
After Whitney gets the business end of a guillotine from Stuart, Beth decides she’s had enough. She seduces Stuart (because apparently “weaponized sexuality” is a legitimate tactic in Roth’s universe), gains the upper hand, and chains him up instead. When the guards arrive, Beth pulls out her trump card — she’s rich. Like, trust fund rich.
This is where the movie pretends to get clever again: Beth literally buys her freedom. The moral? Money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy your way out of a murder dungeon. Feminism!
The guards tell her she can’t leave until she kills someone. So Beth, having finally snapped, cuts off Stuart’s genitals and leaves him to bleed out like a neutered lab rat. Even the guards look disturbed — which is saying something for men who spend their workdays mopping intestines off the floor.
In the film’s grand finale, Beth tracks down Axelle — the model who lured them to Slovakia — and decapitates her. Then, in a delightful return to juvenile cruelty, a group of local kids play soccer with Axelle’s head. Because when you think of Eastern Europe, you think of beheading and intramural sports.
Hostel: Part II — The Sequel Nobody Asked For
If the first Hostel was a disgusting rollercoaster that at least knew how to stay on its rails, Part II is that same ride after two cans of Monster Energy and a nervous breakdown. It’s meaner but dumber, gorier but emptier.
Eli Roth once said he wanted to make horror “fun again.” This movie proves he misunderstood the assignment. There’s no tension, just endless shots of people screaming while the camera lingers on power tools like it’s filming an instructional video for sociopaths.
The dialogue is so wooden you could carve a coffin from it. Characters say things like, “This place gives me the creeps,” which, given the literal murder auction happening next door, feels like an understatement. The acting ranges from “decent paycheck” to “blink twice if you need help.”
Roth tries to sprinkle in satire about wealth, misogyny, and privilege — but it’s like watching someone write a dissertation in crayon. The only thing scarier than the violence is the idea that someone thought this script was profound.
Final Thoughts: Torture Tourism Is Dead, Long Live Mediocrity
Hostel: Part II is what happens when a filmmaker confuses “edgy” with “exhausting.” It’s a parade of cruelty that mistakes shock for substance and gore for art. The first film at least had novelty — this one has déjà vu with a splash of menstrual blood.
There’s a brief flicker of something interesting in Beth’s revenge arc, but it’s buried under layers of sleaze and self-satisfaction. By the end, you’re not horrified — you’re just bored and vaguely sticky from the experience.
Grade: D+
Hostel: Part II isn’t scary, it’s just depressing. It’s a movie about torture that somehow manages to make the audience feel like the real victims.
