As a fan of really trashy films, I absolutely loved the first part of Terror in the Jungle, which introduces a wonderfully eclectic selection of ridiculous stereotypes flying down to Rio but destined to never arrive at their destination. Among those on board the doomed flight: irritating blonde kid Henry Clayton Jr. (Jimmy Angle) and his cuddly toy tiger, an acquitted murderess making off with her dead husband's cash, a buxom aspiring starlet, a trio of pop-stars with very silly hair, a wealthy businessman, a caring stewardess, and a pair of nuns escorting their dead colleague, whose coffin will soon become an important plot device. It's like the beginning of classic disaster spoof Airplane, but without a shred of irony.
As they pass over the Amazon basin, the passengers are in good spirits thanks to the Beatles-esque group entertaining with a rendition of their hit song 'Soft Lips', while the aspiring actress gyrates in the aisle to the groovy tune. However, disaster strikes when the plane inexplicably begins to lose fuel. The passengers are forced to throw any unnecessary baggage out of the door (an exercise that sees one of the nuns accidentally falling to her death) but this course of action doesn't prevent the need for an emergency landing. The plane ditches into the Amazon. Those who survive the crash leap from the wreckage into the river, where they are immediately devoured by crocodiles! Only the irritating kid survives, set afloat in the dead nun's coffin shortly before the plane explodes. So far, so hugely entertaining! Unfortunately, after the plane crashes and burns, so does the film.
With all of the interesting characters killed off by the impact, the crocs, or the explosion, the rest of the film is really dull, the action now centred around the kid, whose incessant whimpering really grates on the nerves. Arriving unscathed at the river bank, the young lad wanders through the undergrowth until he is discovered by a tribe of Indians who believe him to be the son of their god INTI, on account of his blonde hair (a fact emphasised by a terrible 'golden aura' special effect). Meanwhile, rescuers searching for survivors of the crash find the boy's life-jacket hanging from a branch and report their findings. The lad's worried father rushes to the site to help with the search, but will he locate his son before one of the tribesmen, who isn't convinced by the child's status as a deity, can convince the other villagers to stop pampering the insufferable brat and sacrifice him instead?
This jungle-bound nonsense is handled with zero style by Andrew Janczak, who took over when original director Tom DeSimone wisely abandoned ship. A pathetic piranha attack, a dismal dance routine (helmed by a third director, Alex Graton), and a mind-bogglingly strange moment where the boy's cuddly toy transforms into a real animal to protect him from the evil Indian who wants him dead, all fail to inject any fun into proceedings. In fact, it's hard to believe that a film that is so entertaining in the first act can wind up being so boring.
8/10 for everything pre-jungle; 0/10 for the rest. That's an average of 4 out of 10, minus one point for that irritating kid.
