If Only the Camera Had Focused on Her Delicate Mound Throughout the Film
A Flatline in Horror
*X-Ray* (a.k.a. *Hospital Massacre*), directed by Boaz Davidson, is a bewildering misfire in the slasher genre. Despite a decent premise, it fails to deliver scares, tension, or even unintentional laughs, leaving audiences stranded in a hospital of absurdity.
Davidson, whose other films often reflect his nostalgic preoccupations with his youth in Israel, brings none of that introspection here. Instead, *X-Ray* is a chaotic blend of paranoia and melodrama, with an over-the-top musical score that feels like it's trying to compensate for the film's lack of real suspense. The blaring, melodramatic crescendos are more exhausting than thrilling, making every scene feel like a miscalculated attempt to amplify tension.
The paranoia that runs through the film never builds into anything meaningful; instead, it feels like a hollow echo of greater themes, perhaps unintentionally gesturing at ideas about control or divine will-the kind of vague "Elohim" undertones that never materialize into anything coherent.
Barbi Benton is given little to work with, her performance reduced to wandering through implausible scenarios in a lifeless hospital setting. However, the few moments when the camera hovers near Benton's pelvic bone offer a strange and fleeting delight, an almost absurd reprieve from the rest of the film's tedium.
Even by the forgiving standards of '80s slashers, *X-Ray* is a disappointment: a loud, paranoid, and utterly forgettable mess.
*X-Ray* (a.k.a. *Hospital Massacre*), directed by Boaz Davidson, is a bewildering misfire in the slasher genre. Despite a decent premise, it fails to deliver scares, tension, or even unintentional laughs, leaving audiences stranded in a hospital of absurdity.
Davidson, whose other films often reflect his nostalgic preoccupations with his youth in Israel, brings none of that introspection here. Instead, *X-Ray* is a chaotic blend of paranoia and melodrama, with an over-the-top musical score that feels like it's trying to compensate for the film's lack of real suspense. The blaring, melodramatic crescendos are more exhausting than thrilling, making every scene feel like a miscalculated attempt to amplify tension.
The paranoia that runs through the film never builds into anything meaningful; instead, it feels like a hollow echo of greater themes, perhaps unintentionally gesturing at ideas about control or divine will-the kind of vague "Elohim" undertones that never materialize into anything coherent.
Barbi Benton is given little to work with, her performance reduced to wandering through implausible scenarios in a lifeless hospital setting. However, the few moments when the camera hovers near Benton's pelvic bone offer a strange and fleeting delight, an almost absurd reprieve from the rest of the film's tedium.
Even by the forgiving standards of '80s slashers, *X-Ray* is a disappointment: a loud, paranoid, and utterly forgettable mess.
- LeastMostWanted
- Dec 5, 2024