The Collection | Movie review
A klepto-killer sets his traps.
A sequel to the little-seen 2009 grotesquerie The Collector, this unrelentingly nasty torture porn from Marcus Dunstan (screenwriter of Saws IV–VII) owes less to Hitchcock than Mengele. Opening with the mowing-down of a massive nightclub crowd, the movie proceeds to an abandoned hotel in “a part of the city rats won’t even shit on.” Our klepto-killer du jour has laid booby traps in every room. No word on the cost, but at least it’s sustainable? Brain-damaged victims have been recycled as the villain’s zombie guard dogs; an alcove of squishy limbs is filled with gasoline, making a flammable trap for anyone who lands there. Evolution has made humans averse to most of the horrors on display here.