Final Destination 3. A review.

Sequels are notoriously to be taken with a pinch of salt. For the first two instalments, the Final Destination formula had worked alright, teenagers dying gruesomely in succession and sadism aplenty. No wonder its third chapter is released already, promising to do exactly what is expected. Final Destination was never the most complex of horror tales to begin with, yet this time –seriously- not even one iota of imagination is in place. It doesn’t even take parts 1 or 2 an inch further, like most sequels instead are set to do.

As it’s exactly like the first two (except different cast and slightly different ways to die), it actually crosses your mind whether director James Wong just aimed at an exercise of the kind: alright guys, now let’s try it over again; Got your body mangled in a pile-up? Now try and get your cranium squeezed like a spot by a fork-lift truck, see which one works better. Did the lift-doors leave you decapitated? Now check out how many limbs you lose while at a fairground…

However, if you don’t set it in context with its predecessors, Final Destination 3 does its job and is honest enough. For a rollercoaster-phobic like myself, the initial scenes are absolutely terrifying, a 5-minutes gorefest that leaves your palms drenched in sweat... And would you believe it, this simple, unassuming movie even managed to stir some controversy in the US where the Los Angeles Daily News denounced “its vulgarity on its blood-caked sleeve” calling it “cynical enough to use 9/11 in its vapid story lane!”. Whoa whoa, guys, I’m not sure the sophistication of Final Destination 3 went quite that far…