Shabby scares don’t fulfil horror fantasies
Jeff Wadlow’s last stab at out-there horror was Truth or Dare; fun trash that makes perfect late night viewing you wouldn’t mind falling asleep in the middle of.
Fantasy Island doesn’t even reach that tiny bar as this take on the late 70s/early 80s TV show wastes an intriguing premise.
A group of guests arrive on the titular tropical resort to be granted their ultimate fantasies by the mysterious Mr Roarke (Michael Peña).
There’s no doubt the story – penned by Wadlow and his Truth or Dare scribes Jillian Jacobs and Christopher Roach – sets up tantalising prospects.
From a personal assistant’s nose bleeds and a crazy hermit living in the woods to location changes in a heartbeat, there are Lost levels of mystery at play.
The answers aren’t as complicated and disappointing as that incredibly maddening TV show but still fall way short of meeting your early expectations.
No matter how strong the revelations were, though, they would struggle to elevate the pretty dreadful acting.
Ryan Hansen and Jimmy O. Yang’s step-brothers are supremely annoying, Maggie
Q does little but look sad and a lifeless Peña isn’t a great fit as the supposedly enigmatic Roarke.
Subtlety goes out the window as Wadlow bombards us with scantily-clad women and characters who express everything they are thinking and feeling verbally in dumb exposition explosions.
The film gets more and more batty as tension is jettisoned in favour of jarring face-offs and insane twists – a couple surprising but most very predictable.
The cave-set finale bombards us with information dumps before optimistically teasing a return trip.
With its shabby scares, unlikable characters and crazy antics, Fantasy Island is more wet weekend getaway than sun-kissed journey to paradise.