Laughing while the rot sets in

Here's a new twist on an old plot. Eli Roth's sparky little horror movie takes the usual suspects - a group of randy teenagers - and sends them down the well-trodden path into a remote log cabin somewhere in North Carolina, where unimaginable horror lurks. So far, so ho-hum.

But instead of dispatching them one-by-one - by means of the external agency of a family of mutant hillbillies or a mad chainsaw-wielding former classmate - Roth delivers an enemy from within: the grisly bacterial disease necrotising fasciitis, which eats the flesh of the victim from the inside out. Smart move, Mr Roth.

Not so smart are the five teenagers who are determined to celebrate the fact that, for them, school's out for ever by vacationing in the aforementioned log cabin.

The group consists of the usual teen stereotypes: the virgin tease (Jordan Ladd), her forlornly lusting friend (Rider Strong), the horny couple (Joey Kern and Cerina Vincent) and the grossmouthed, beer-swilling, lout (James DeBello).

They get their holiday off to a good start by setting fire to an infected hermit when he staggers up to the cabin seeking medical assistance. "It's okay," reasons one. "The rain will put him out."

Before long, the disease is taking hold and each surviving member of the diminishing group resolves to avoid contamination to the point of spoiling their whole holiday and sleeping alone.

Sick humour vies with grisly special effects as skin rots and blood seeps through suppurating sores. There is a horribly authentic bath scene in which one girl notices her flesh coming away with the blade as she shaves her legs; characteristically of the disease, she cannot feel the pain.

Roth sets his stall out in the opening scenes in a local store run by a bearded local, where a small boy sits on a bench outside and has a habit of sinking his teeth into passing strangers. Spotting a highpowered rifle amid the store's "antique" clutter, one of the group enquires as to its purpose. The old man replies, "To shoot niggers" - a line that ricochets in the closing scene in one of the funniest and least politically correct pay-offs I have seen in ages.

Firmly in the tradition of the new generation of pulp-horror movies, Cabin Fever gives good value in both the humour and the gore stakes, without confusing one with the other. Roth's shocks are genuinely unpleasant, including dog-savaged girlies and a sudden screwdriver in the ear.

With the inclusion of some atmospheric incidental music from David Lynch's favourite composer, Angelo Badalamenti, a genuinely surreal local law officer and a conclusion that pays homage to George Romero's Night of the Living Dead, this is major fun and a great improvement on last week's unlovely gore-fest House of 1,000 Corpses. Take your girlfriend for a laugh.

Cabin Fever
Cert: cert15