REVIEW - AFTERSHOCK

There'd be nothing of note in Aftershock were it not for Eli Roth's contribution as writer, producer and actor, and an inexplicable cameo from Selena Gomez. But then, there'd be nothing of note in either of those were it not for Quentin Tarantino and Justin Bieber, respectively. Otherwise, Aftershock is your usual modern disaster / slasher horror, like Final Destination 6 but with natural disasters. I don't know what value there is in the formula by which each of the cast members is killed off in turn in their own unique manner - perhaps there's a good drinking game in there. I couldn't particularly care which of this bunch was offed first and which would survive, although as much as Nicolas Lopez lazily attempts to subvert our expectations, he also follows the rules, by and large. Ain't it strange how horror films have actually become more formulaic since Wes Craven's Scream? Three guys and three girls holidaying in Chile spend half an hour being extremely annoying, and then another hour getting injured and, sooner or later, killed, whether by forces of nature or man's own hand. They visit the kind of clubs only considered trendy by 30-somethings in the movies, and when one of these awful characters comments that Eli Roth is dressed like a dad, it seems they've failed to notice that they all are. An earthquake strikes, which results in some spectacular bloodletting, and prisoners escape from the collapsed jail - I think the moral of Aftershock is this: Don't ever approach a prisoner, because he will rape you / set you on fire / shoot you in the back. Well, that's what I learned.