I've had my share of bad experiences in Mexico. Four to be exact. This movie, "Based on a True Story," is a bit extreme, but I can definitely see it happening.
It's all-but Hostel, South of the Borderland. Three American dudes run into a cult of really, really bad hombres and not the kind our foolish leader speaks of.
While I am usually skeptical of "True" stories brought to cinemas, this one, from my own experiences there, seems very, and sadly, plausible. Still, the movie takes some leaps in dramatic effect since some of the characters don't survive and I highly doubt CSI records were kept of their demise – so how do we really know what happened to them?
Though I'm ten years late in seeing this, it felt a tad cliché and predictable at times, even for back then. That said, for horror fans, it's worth checking out. It's extremely gruesome with outrageous bad guys and good guys turned psychotic with justifiable motives. It will please most fans, though if it is real, it's hard to take this as just "entertainment."
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Final thoughts: As mentioned, I've had my bad experiences in/with Mexico. Incredibly long stories short, here are my four, progressively bad tales southbound:
A> My roommate "borrowed" my expensive camera without permission and took it to Mexico. Their hotel room was broken into and you'll never guess which singular item was stolen
B> My first trip to Mexico with a group of friends, one of which took her stripper girlfriend with her that no one else liked. She ended up smuggling cocaine with her to the shock and disapproval of ALL of us. Luckily, nothing happened and mercifully, we never saw her again after that.
C> Went again with a new duo of friends. Both of them thought it would be a good idea to hang out with "locals" whom I strongly disapproved of and, yada yada, they almost got us arrested, I had to bail us out and one of them fist-fought my friend who, in turn, wanted to fist-fight me for not defending him against the very people I warned him against.
D> Final trip to Mexico of my life: February 18-21, 2000. After a successful night of partying with my supervisor and her husband, we ventured out to a desert bar on rented quads the next morning. My first time on one and it was defective and I crashed, sliding me 25mph across the sidewalk with the quad in tow. First, I was taken to an ER where the "doctor" who pretended to not speak English wildly misdiagnosed me (said my perfectly fine ribs were broken, but my hand that was clearly broken was OK) and he proceeded to drop me off the examination table, onto the floor and then overcharged me for stuff he could've done without doing. Next, I was hauled off to the police station and almost arrested for drinking and riding, but I hadn't been drinking – it was an accident. So the police decided it best for me to drain my bank account for a bogus "causing an accident" charge – they escorted me to the nearest ATM and required me to withdraw all my cash available. My face was half-charred from the sidewalk scrapping, my hand ballooned out and I was out $500+ for fraudulent hospital charges and unlawful police bribes.
No offense against anyone that lives there peacefully, but F your country. For as long as I live, I will never enter your country again. It's been 17+ years since I last was there and even that's too soon.
It's all-but Hostel, South of the Borderland. Three American dudes run into a cult of really, really bad hombres and not the kind our foolish leader speaks of.
While I am usually skeptical of "True" stories brought to cinemas, this one, from my own experiences there, seems very, and sadly, plausible. Still, the movie takes some leaps in dramatic effect since some of the characters don't survive and I highly doubt CSI records were kept of their demise – so how do we really know what happened to them?
Though I'm ten years late in seeing this, it felt a tad cliché and predictable at times, even for back then. That said, for horror fans, it's worth checking out. It's extremely gruesome with outrageous bad guys and good guys turned psychotic with justifiable motives. It will please most fans, though if it is real, it's hard to take this as just "entertainment."
***
Final thoughts: As mentioned, I've had my bad experiences in/with Mexico. Incredibly long stories short, here are my four, progressively bad tales southbound:
A> My roommate "borrowed" my expensive camera without permission and took it to Mexico. Their hotel room was broken into and you'll never guess which singular item was stolen
B> My first trip to Mexico with a group of friends, one of which took her stripper girlfriend with her that no one else liked. She ended up smuggling cocaine with her to the shock and disapproval of ALL of us. Luckily, nothing happened and mercifully, we never saw her again after that.
C> Went again with a new duo of friends. Both of them thought it would be a good idea to hang out with "locals" whom I strongly disapproved of and, yada yada, they almost got us arrested, I had to bail us out and one of them fist-fought my friend who, in turn, wanted to fist-fight me for not defending him against the very people I warned him against.
D> Final trip to Mexico of my life: February 18-21, 2000. After a successful night of partying with my supervisor and her husband, we ventured out to a desert bar on rented quads the next morning. My first time on one and it was defective and I crashed, sliding me 25mph across the sidewalk with the quad in tow. First, I was taken to an ER where the "doctor" who pretended to not speak English wildly misdiagnosed me (said my perfectly fine ribs were broken, but my hand that was clearly broken was OK) and he proceeded to drop me off the examination table, onto the floor and then overcharged me for stuff he could've done without doing. Next, I was hauled off to the police station and almost arrested for drinking and riding, but I hadn't been drinking – it was an accident. So the police decided it best for me to drain my bank account for a bogus "causing an accident" charge – they escorted me to the nearest ATM and required me to withdraw all my cash available. My face was half-charred from the sidewalk scrapping, my hand ballooned out and I was out $500+ for fraudulent hospital charges and unlawful police bribes.
No offense against anyone that lives there peacefully, but F your country. For as long as I live, I will never enter your country again. It's been 17+ years since I last was there and even that's too soon.