Justine is like any other freshman woman entering college — curious, open to new experiences, and easily manipulated. The daughter of a lawyer for the United Nations, Justine has been raised to believe that any and all issues can be easily solved with a little determination, and of course, her father’s money. Unable to empathize with nations that exist outside of her suburban upbringing, Justine views third world countries and their inhabitants the same way that many Americans do — as victims.

Because of her inexperience, and her naive belief that intervention by young, inexperienced, and honestly quite unknowledgeable American activists is wanted and needed in remote Peruvian villages, Justine allows herself to be coerced into joining a small college group in their protest against deforestation. Together, this small bunch of students travel in a rickety plane to South America, where they plan to chain themselves to bulldozers in order to stop the destruction of the forest, and to save the poor villagers living inside of it. The Americans may see themselves as crusaders of justice coming in to rescue this helpless tribe, but to the quiet hunters that call the Amazon River home, they’re nothing but invasive cattle, ready for the slaughter.

[Related Post] Review: With The Green Inferno, Eli Roth Resurrects the Cannibal Sub-Genre In All Its Depraved Glory!

Insightful and progressive one moment, and narrow-minded and offensive the next, The Green Inferno feels like two different films shoved into one feature. The first is a highly intelligent social and political commentary on important world issues, such as xenophobia, imperialism, deforestation, militarism, activism, and female circumcision. The second is an exploitative cannibal grindhouse flick that leans heavily on over-the-top gore and toilet humor. Although these two concepts can sometimes be successful on their own, and Roth’s films often contain multiple layers, these two perspectives are just too vastly different to exist within the same film.

The Green Inferno highlighted many crucial sociological debates, only to completely disrespect either side of each argument by executing these concepts with B-movie tactics. Written on the basis of social commentary, and backed by shocking and grotesque gore that demands the viewer’s attention, it’s a shame this story doesn’t have sharper writing. This is a film that that could have persuaded audiences to not just take notice of international issues, but to also confront their own beliefs, and act as a sense of self-discovery, assigning a certain level of personal significance to each cause. Instead, it settles for fart jokes.

The dialogue is laughable at best. From calling activism “gay” to randomly talking about 9/11 being an inside job, the speech always feels trivial and ridiculous. Since the characters are so underdeveloped (some seem to be completely without names), everyone’s lines feel interchangeable, melting each person into the same uninteresting, ambiguous pot. The audience is completely devoid of any emotional attachment to anyone on screen, so when characters start being taken out right and left, it comes off more on the side of comical than dramatic. Of course, the film would have risen to a much higher level with a different cast attached.

With so much of the impact resting on the shoulders of Justine, our girl who guides us from the safe, familiar arms of American soil to this sparingly documented faraway place, the film simply required a stronger performance than lead actress Lorenza Izzo provided. As she makes the brave and frightening delve into overseas territory, Justine also literally and figuratively transitions from a naive little girl into full-blown womanhood, signaling her rebirth. However, you’d never know this while watching Izzo. She showcases the same emotions and states of being at the beginning of the film as she does at the end, emerging from the crisis as the same immature, uneducated child that she was when she initially engaged. Of course, this is due to the writing as well as the acting, but it felt as if all of the actors collectively underperformed, signaling an even bigger problem in the director’s chair.

The way this film handles female circumcision may be the most bothersome aspect of all. Female Genital Mutilation, or F.G.M. for short, is the ritualistic removal of the female’s genitals, varying slightly from one ethnic group to the next, but all involve the cutting of a young girl’s privates to indicate her transition into womanhood. Mostly practiced in African countries, but existing in different forms all throughout the world, the age of the girls involved ranges anywhere from days after birth to well into their teenage years. Whether or not this practice is morally sound is and has been up for debate for several years, with many nations coming out against it, and many active countries defending their right to perform certain rituals as dictated by their culture.

However, without any prior knowledge on the subject, one watching The Green Inferno would assume that there is only one side to the argument, as it only supports the perception that this activity is immoral. Since the film attacks the topic from a sociological perspective, it should offer up both sides of the debate. For instance, one counterpoint that many in favor of F.G.M. bring up is the comparison to male circumcision; an event that is considered normal by society’s standards in many first world countries. There’s also the argument that many of the countries that use unsafe blades to carry out the act simply don’t have access to proper medical centers that would help safely conduct these events. However, the discussion on female circumcision executed by The Green Inferno fails to provide any real depth, and reveals a lack of research, making the story feel as detached and shallow as its characters.

Aside from its many startling problems, The Green Inferno does manage to contain some favorable factors. There are some truly breathtaking shots of Peru and the thick, faded hazel Amazonian River that runs through it. There’s also some wickedly haunting imagery of the natives; covered from head to toe in blood red dye, and riddled with piercings, the tribe members contrast sharply and brilliantly with the bright red grass, as they trample ravenously over its blades. Speaking secretly with one another, these unique beings remain just as mysterious to the audience as they do to the characters onscreen without the aid of subtitles that normally let the viewers in on the action. By forgoing the written translation, the viewer, too, is left in the dark, clueless as to what these vibrant crimson people have planned.

Despite its few strong points, overall, The Green Inferno feels like a big step backwards for Eli Roth. For a movie that’s trying to illustrate how Americans’ narrow-minded fear towards other nations comes from a lack of understanding, rather than any logical concerns, this film sure carries a limited point of view. Even if meant as nothing more than an exploitative, controversial cannibal flick, it even fails on that account, as the brief tension it managed to wrangle when the Americans are brought onshore to the village dies out as quickly as it’s brought in, making the rest of the film feel slow and lagging, despite its brief runtime. With his newest feature, Roth seeks to shame lazy activists who preach more than they research, but all he winds up doing is making himself look like the fool.