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A group of tourists on a haunted swamp tour find one of the horrific local legends to be true. They try to escape alive--and with all of their pieces.
The over-the-top gore, campy acting, and dim cinematography may be part of Hatchet's self-described old-school ethos, but irony alone can't sustain a horror film.
Lacking the satirical bite of the first Scream... this is mere pastiche that doesn't even wink at what it is pointlessly xeroxing from the past.
Horror without suspense is like sex without love: you can appreciate the technicalities, but ultimately there's no reason to care.
The film might not host an original concept, but its attention to detail - the tiny things that made '80s slashers unique - render Hatchet a far more enjoyable experience than its competition.
Anyone feeding into this nostalgia is yearning for a kind of warm and fuzzy horror that's wholly irrelevant today.
It's just not that scary (even the gory sequences are predictable and boring). And it certainly isn't clever or funny.
I enjoyed Hatchet quite a bit. I was never scared, and I can't say I laughed out loud much, but it has a very gleeful tone that invites the viewer in.
Green's efforts to strike a balance between knowing humour and no-holds-barred horror are stymied by an erratic tone: a slow, talky build-up gives way to a soggy middle section and a messy, all-stops-out finale.
Draggy stretches in the first few reels could easily have been pruned from an already tight 83-minute running time.
Only a brief, nicely sculpted bass clarinet line provides any redeeming quality.
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