Hunt Club

What makes a good hunting humans movie? There are a lot of them out there, all, in their own way, reworkings of The Most Dangerous Game. Some of them, like 2018’s The Prey, feature brilliant fight sequences. Others, like 2009’s New Town Killers explore iconic locations. Then there are ones like 2022’s Hounded which have political points to make. Although one might think of them as just a lot of running about, what marks out the best ones is an investment at the casting stage. Hunt Club has made that effort, and it pays off.

Nobody is going to win an Oscar for a film like this. Realistic, nuanced acting is not what’s needed, but charisma matters. Mena Süvari had the wit to handle American Pie and be more than an object in American Beauty; she’s had a few dry years, but she’s still capable of turning it on when occasion arises. Here’s she’s up against Casper Van Dien, who has finally put enough distance between himself and Starship Troppers to start doing something new, starting with last year’s Daughter. He’s developing a fine line in larger than life villains, and that’s just about perfect for this material.

Her Cassandra and his Carter meet in a café. Cassandra is with her girlfriend Tessa (Maya Stojan), whom we’ve seen her meet in an opening sequence which is ostensibly feminist (Tessa rescues her from would-be rapists) but still reinforces the notion that if one fights off a woman’s enemies one will be rewarded with sex. Carter is with his kid, Jackson (Will Peltz), whom he plans to make into a proper man by way of a hunting trip. When the women go through a suspiciously abrupt break-up and Jackson takes a shine to Cassandra, they get talking, with the upshot that she’s invited along on that trip, apparently in ignorance of what the audience will know at the outset – that she’s to be the prey.

So far, so good – no time wasted. The film doesn’t take long to introduce us to a series of other young women, most already shackled and scantily clad , and to a group of suitably grotesque men whom Carter chides for paying their victims the wrong sort of attention - “We’re gentlemen, not animals.” In a suitably impassioned speech, he talks about the unreasonableness of modern women and the importance of reclaiming primal masculinity, but also lets slip a little something about Jackson which gives the story more depth and ties it in to current political hot topics. Meanwhile – before she is confronted with the men’s plans for her – Cassandra bonds with the kid, who is clearly going through a crisis of conscience, and who notices a bracelet she’s wearing: another unabashedly obvious clue that there’s more going on here.

The whole thing is delivered with just the right measure of sly self awareness. It’s very funny in places, but there’s little effort required to accept that the characters believe in what they say. Director Elizabeth Blake-Thomas understands the subgenre well and paces her work beautifully, so that even though the action is a bit hit and miss (ahem), the film never flags. She’s making a point but is not so wedded to it that she can’t have fun with cheesy lines and playfully exploitative violence. She’s also managed to include a cameo from Mickey Rourke – not the best of the fight scenes, but one in which his now mask-like face adds an extra layer of creepiness to his character. When he’s punched in it, one wonders if he can actually feel the impact.

Concise, engaging and unpretentious, this is a great example of its kind. If you’re looking for cheap and cheerful entertainment with a few sharp edges, Hunt Club could be right up your street.