The Real Cancun

Unabashedly tasteless, wholly trashy and, also, hugely entertaining.

It actually works as a sometimes funny, occasionally scandalous, but mostly involving narrative.

There are worse crimes being perpetrated in Hollywood than The Real Cancún--an exploitation fantasy no more booby-besotted than a "Porky's" or "American Pie" installment, and certainly no more unreal.

Those who sit through this mindlessness get the booby prize.

No matter how “real” things appear, scenarios and story arcs are relentlessly imposed upon the partay-cipants so as to finesse a narrative as crudely overdetermined and howlingly predictable as any studio-manufactured fiction.

It is films like this that make me think that if Mexico suddenly went to war with a superpower, and the Cancun area was nuked into oblivion during a spring break weekend, that the world might actually be a better place.

Shoddy craftsmanship and uninteresting subjects (it's amazing how tedious some conversations can be when there's no one to put words in the subjects' mouths) sink this spring-break movie faster than an outbreak of Leginnaires’ disease on a vacation cruise liner.