"Hillbilly horror" is my favorite subgenre of them all. When done correctly it can hit unbelievably close to home with frightening realism. There are no make believe ghosts or ghouls; the monsters are all too real people that you very well may have passed by the last time you took that wrong exit on your annual camping excursion or spring break road trip. Anyone who has gotten lost and ended up in one of those dark little corners along roads less traveled can identify with that feeling of utter isolation that creeps slowly in when you realize that you're a long way from home. But as a horror film it's hardly a new concept. Backwoods terrors have graced the screen for years now, from the bleak desolation of roadside horror classics like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Hills Have Eyes (I even liked the remake) to the lighthearted down home tongue in cheek satire of Two Thousand Maniacs and Motel Hell. Yet things have gotten a little stale for the genre within the last decade or two, the same familiar group of teenagers finding themselves trapped in the middle of nowhere by inbred psychopaths who could be easily interchanged from one film to the next. With all the Wrong Turns and Wolf Creeks where can the genre possibly go from here?

Enter Calvaire (The Ordeal), the newest take on rural exploitation by Belgian writer/director Fabrice Du Welz. The formula is a simple one: take one part Misery, one part Deliverance, throw in a little Texas Chainsaw Massacre (including one very literal homage to the dinner table scene, complete with extreme close ups of terrorized eyeballs), add a distinctly European feel to top it off and you have the next survival horror sensation that has the festival circuit buzzing.

Marc Stevens is a small time cabaret singer traveling through the countryside on his way to perform at a Christmas gala. When his van breaks down on a secluded dirt road on a dark and stormy night (of course), he takes refuge at a local inn bordering on a remote village. Here he gains the acquaintance of some of the rather colorful locals, including Bartel, the innkeeper, who happily agrees to house, feed, and even attempt to fix Marc's van when he learns that he is an entertainer. Bartel is delighted to have the company of an artist, for he was once a comedian and his estranged wife, Gloria, whom he still insanely longs for, was a singer also. In fact, he may be a little too delighted, as the lines of the presence of Marc and the sorrow over Gloria start to blur and reality slips away at an alarming pace. Over the following several days Marc's impromptu getaway offers anything but rest and relaxation, turning into an absolute nightmare filled with destruction, torture, rape, bestiality, crucifixion, forced cross dressing (yes, you read that right) and an intense shootout with the wacko locals.

In addition to the plot, the film's technical aspects succeed in giving it that gritty feeling that a story like this really needs to work. It's exploitation done right. The flat, dimly lit cinematography of Benoit Debie (Irreversible, The Card Player) provides the necessary unflinching what-you-see-is-what-you-get style. It adds a whole other level of realism that the now common Hollywood influenced, choppy 2-second cuts of violence approach aimed at the MTV attention span could never have successfully achieved. Add to that the lack of any background music in the film; the only songs we hear are those performed by characters. It's almost as if you are right there watching these events unfold, rather than watching a movie about them. While the film isn't overly gory, it certainly is unsettling. Laurent Lucas (Marc) often seems like he is honestly losing it when bursts of desperate laughter mix with his screams and tears throughout various torture sequences. The appearance of Philippe Nahon (Robert), recognizable from other sinister roles such as the killer in Haute Tension and the downright despicable main character of I Stand Alone, lends a somewhat menacing credibility to it all as the head of the townspeople.

But it's the films often surreal, dreamlike qualities that keep it from becoming just another 70's revival wannabe. The oddball behavior of the majority of the characters will throw just enough curveballs to make sure you can never see what's coming next (the song and dance scene in the bar is one I doubt you will soon forget). At times it seems at though everything could be just one deranged fairytale nightmare that Marc could snap out of, but that suggests hope, and hopelessness is one thing that Calvaire in not short on. In fact, it's what it does best.

The picture quality is what one would expect for the release of a newer film. There are several scenes which are fairly dark, but that's due to the intentional natural lighting of the film. The disc in review is the French release, therefore the audio (Dolby 2.0, Dolby Digital 5.1, DTS 5.1) is in French, but there are optional English subtitles which are crisp and easy to read throughout. The extras included are director commentary, a making of, trailer, and another short film by the director. However, they are all in French. There is also a hidden gallery of stills from the film of a topless Brigitte Lahaie, which I think many would agree might be the best Easter egg ever.