Roth’s attempt at satire is blunt-force trauma. The activists are caricatures—a trust-fund leader who watches The Cove for moral guidance, a stoner who quotes Che Guevara between bong hits, a “social justice warrior” before the term existed. Their stupidity is the joke, but the joke wears thin long before the cannibals appear. Worse, the film’s treatment of the indigenous tribe is regressive. They have no language, no culture beyond ritual torture and consumption—a straight line back to colonial-era “savage” tropes, with none of Deodato’s uncomfortable self-reflection.
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A group of naive New York activists, led by idealistic college student Justine (Lorenza Izzo), fly to Peru to chain themselves to bulldozers and stop a corporation from displacing an indigenous tribe. Their plan succeeds—briefly—but their plane crashes in the jungle. They are captured by the very tribe they thought they were saving, who turn out to be isolationist cannibals with no interest in Western morality. Roth’s attempt at satire is blunt-force trauma