![]() In the end, no one’s a winner and the door is left wide open for a sequel that if the world is lucky will never come. Slowly, they get infected, infect others, get shot at, refuse to use their brains and leave, etc. After the melting guy tries to steal their truck, the kids kinda set him on fire then go back to their business. After quickly establishing their one-note characters (the nice girl, her nice guy best friend who secretly wants her, the slut, her a*****e f**k buddy and the obnoxious beer-swilling chunky guy), they encounter a bumpkin at their cabin door who’s infected with… something (minor “spoiler”: we never now exactly what). The “plot” goes as follows: 5 college pals (and don’t two couples ALWAYS travel with a stag loser) take a vacation in the woods of Buttcrack, Hicksville (where the local yokels like to bite out-of towners and the dimwitted deputy likes to get his drink on). It’s as if Puff Daddy made a horror movie: sampling the best (and worst) bits from previous fright flicks yet using them without any of the previous wit or respect. For me, this wasn’t a film, it was an endurance test to see if I could make it to the end before my head exploded Scanners-style from exposure to pure cinematic stupidity and yet another nail in horror’s viability coffin. Peter Jackson calls Cabin Fever “the film horror fans have been waiting for.” Apparently, the profits from Lord of the Rings afforded him enough crack and Mad Dog 20/20 to make this movie bearable.
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