The Strange Hostel of Naked Pleasures

The Strange Hostel of Naked Pleasures rewards the patient viewer.

The plot concerns groups of people from various walks of life who seek shelter in a strange hostel run by writer-director José Mojica Marins’s Coffin Joe character.

The opening sequence, consisting of a group of bikini clad women dancing to the sounds of several shirtless male drummers while screams echo in the distance, may perplex and even bore some viewers, but the patient viewer soldiers on, rewarded with shots of a black coffin. Then back to the dancers, the drummers, and wait-what was that? A group of men wearing plastic breasts? Yes, they’re definitely wearing plastic breasts. Back to the dancers, the drummers, the coffin, wait-what was that? A group of men with wearing plastic monkey masks? Yes, they’re wearing plastic monkey masks. Back to the dancers, drummer, the coffin, the plastic breast men, the plastic monkey mask men, then, finally, the coffin opens and out rises Coffin Joe himself, to deliver one of his signature existential monologues.

And that’s pretty much how the movie goes. Boring, to weird, to strangely rewarding. Rinse and repeat. The kicker is, the ending really does work, provided you’re predisposed to Marins’ style. Granted, you’ll spend a good portion of the film scratching your head, wondering just where he’s going with everything, but if you’re patient, he ties it all together very nicely.

That said, The Strange Hostel of Naked Pleasures certainly isn’t for everyone. It’s overlong, meandering, and made on a budget equal to a summer’s paper-route money. It’s also bizarre, gruesome, exploitative, and unlike anything you’ve probably ever seen. So if you’re adventurous, patient, and have a taste for weird horror films, give it a look.