And yes, sure — we have expressed our distaste for torture porn on several occasions on these pages. But Captivity is a new low for what’s already the lowest form of cinematic entertainment. It is the nadir of the subgenre’s short existence. It is everything (everything) that is despicable and vile and offensive about torture porn distilled into 90 minutes of loathsome opprobrium. It’s repellent. Horrid. And thoroughly unpleasant. And I wouldn’t wish the experience of watching it upon anybody. Captivity is a cinematic cesspool where only sick fucking degenerates can get their rocks off, and it’s about as useful as second-hand toilet paper — only, it stinks a whole helluva lot more.
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At a bar, Jennifer’s drink is spiked. A few minutes later, she wakes up in the torturer’s dungeon, which the captor has decorated with things from her apartment. Immediately, the cruel fucking bullshit begins. Jennifer is given the Clockwork Orange treatment — she’s strapped into a chair and made to watch the torture of a previous victim, a woman showered with acid. Acid, people. Acid. Fucking sick deplorable shit. The whole movie makes Saw look like motherfucking My Fair Lady with an industrial metal soundtrack.
Even for Pajiba, this review tops the fury charts. Dustin is really, extremely displeased.
