Terror has evolved.

The Ruins was a bestseller from the author of A Simple Plan, Sam Raimi later adapted the book into one hell of an outstanding film. In this outing, a group of college students venture into an uncharted area where there’s supposed to be an ancient Mayan temple. Once they arrive, the locals set up camp around the base, armed to the teeth with guns, bows & arrows and force the group to ascend the steps and wait for their demise. Once at the top our group begins to figure out the dark secret of the Ruins.

Torture-porn ensues and it’s honestly laughable. Somebody even yelled out at the press screening, ‘Is this a comedy or supposed to be a horror film?’ One begins to wonder since Ben Stiller was an executive producer on this film. Seriously. Red Hour Films is his company.

The book, from which I heard, was extremely rich in detail and scares. The terror worked well on the page and I assume readers felt a sense of emotion towards the characters. But their transition to the screen fell flat and I sat through it absolutely hating the film.

The film’s a mere 91 minutes with 15 of which is dedicated to the actors drinking and making out on the beach. Wait, first they started by the pool during the day then they moved to the beach at night. The cast annoyed the hell out of me. Their dialogue was insipid, motivations ridiculous and they were simply artificial. By the time they were in the cab ride heading to the ruins, I secretly prayed that the jeep overturned and spontaneously combusted. That didn’t happen.

Scott Smith adapted his own book and he must have used a write-by-the-plot-points screenwriting guide by Robert McKee because with lines like “How is anyone going to find us…” a response follows…”The Greeks will because we drew them a map…” repeated over and over and over. Okay, the audience gets it. Next.

Technically the film looked, well, not very good. The director started off with an award winning short that Spielberg truly liked, so he handpicked him to direct this. But wait, a bestselling book given to an inexperienced feature director? And this shows from the first frame to the last. When the vines started doing their ravenous bit, I kept thinking back to Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors and how that plant scared the living shit out of me. These vines were a CGI mess and I could barely contain my laughter especially during the amputation scene.

Digging around the internet before writing this, all I’ve heard are questions as to why Smith took so many liberties with his own material? He changed the order of deaths, switched roles, etc. The men in the film were absolute buffoons and the girls were poorly fleshed out. The only interesting part included the Mayan locals, but I wanted a little more from them. There were several scenes where the locals would rant and scream at our tourists without any subtitles. Smith should’ve had one of the characters know a little about the Mayan language and be able to translate a couple of the words. Not all of them, but just a few to whet the audiences’ appetite for the macabre.

There were so many opportunities for this film to shine. It’s a shame that none of them made it to the screen. The third act is tacked on like a bastard child and the film ends on the lamest “sequel” cliffhanger. But it’s too late at that point.

Don’t RUIN a perfectly good night seeing this. Read the book instead. I wish I had done that first.

– Jack Reher