I hated, hated, hated, hated all the people in this movie. The movie itself I can't say I enjoyed, but instead appreciated exclusively from an anthropological perspective. If I think of the boat full of morons in the movie as under-developed primates, it's easier to not feel like I wasted a little over an hour and a half watching this early one afternoon at Fantastic Fest with my friend Peter Martin from Cinematical/Twitchfilm.

There's no really...classy way to talk about these people, so pardon the terminology I use. While on "holiday" in Mallorca, Spain, two unrepentantly loose British chicks and their much more cautious friend get duped into hanging out with four penis-for-brains yacht sailors. One drug leads to another and people start fucking. One of the dickbrains decides he's going to Donkey Punch the girl he's plowing, and everything goes downhill.

Death, murder, and madness on the high seas ensues. It's the hipster, empty-headed boat version of a survival horror video game without the zombies or vampires. One of the characters is dispatched in particularly...explosive fashion, and at that point I immediately hoped they would all off each other and I'd be done with them and the movie quickly.

I really couldn't get invested in any of these morons. As survival horror movies go, it's not bad, and even hilarious thanks to the utterly idiotic seven lead characters' thought processes and gut reactions to quite literally every single thing that happens. It's one of the few instances of movies where I couldn't give a shit about anyone in the movie living or dying, but found myself interested in their terribly under-developed sense of survival. I hope this movie was conceived as an intentional outright joke, and the sigh of the surviving individual(s) (don't wanna spoil anything!!!) at the end almost said, "thank god all that mindless crap is over."

Donkey Punch hits the US in the back of the neck in January.