Writer-director Eli Roth’s second film, Hostel, is an improvement on his enjoyable but relatively unremarkable debut Cabin Fever. Hostel seems closer in content and style to British horror films of the 1970s than the usual American slasher fare – and, occasionally, a voyeurism that it also shares with 70s horror – but with a slickness that’s suitable modern. That an executive producer is Quentin Tarantino, whose Pulp Fiction plays on the television when the protagonists arrival at the eponymous hostel, is no coincidence.

The film follows two American backbackers, competently played by Jay Hernandez and Derek Richardson, who travel to Slovakia with their Icelandic friend. There, an apparent utopia of drink and sex masks a violent and deadly truth, as one by one the travellers disappear. Slovakia is unfortunate enough to be picked on as the location and as a result gets somewhat misrepresented – although it’s not always clear in the film who’s telling the truth.

Effectively directed, suitably eerie, and with a satisfying finale, Hostel also has its fair share of gore – although not notably more than other recent horror films. It is a touch more sadistic, but just about justifies this as a necessary part of the plot. It lacks a clear message beyond “Americans need to get out more” – although given what happens to the Americans in the film, it may have the opposite effect. Nevertheless, it’s a strong challenger to Saw for the best recent American horror movie.