Turistas (2006)

Turistas taps into a very specific, deliciously nasty fear: that the postcard-perfect trip can curdle into a nightmare the moment you’re far from home and out of your depth, and it sells that dread with sun-drenched Brazilian scenery that feels inviting right up until it doesn’t. John Stockwell shoots the beaches and jungle with a glossy, travel-brochure beauty, which makes the creeping sense of wrongness hit harder, and when the movie turns the screws it does so with punchy pacing and effects that are unflinchingly grotesque in the way a good exploitation thriller should be. It’s an energetic, mean-spirited ride that knows how to keep you watching even when you want to look away. Fair warning: the gore is graphic and the vibe is grim, so if you don’t like harsh, body-horror-adjacent thrills, this one won’t convert you—but if you do, it’s a satisfyingly savage entry in the travel-horror lane.

Turistas is clearly trying to be a sweaty, sun-soaked survival horror where paradise curdles into a nightmare, and it does have a nasty little premise plus some striking Brazilian scenery. The problem is it plays like a bargain-bin Hostel echo: the plot telegraphs its beats early, the characters are thinly written, and the acting often can’t sell the fear, so tension turns into waiting for the next ugly thing to happen. It also leans hard into “foreign place = danger” vibes that can feel more exploitative than insightful, especially once the gore and cruelty ramp up. If you want relentless brutality and don’t mind a derivative, mean-spirited ride, it’ll do the job; if you’re after smart suspense, believable characters, or anything remotely fresh, your time is better spent elsewhere.