The third straight horror film that the Ramsay brothers released in 1981 alone, Hotel takes longer than even most to get to the freaky set pieces, about ninety minutes in fact which is likely too long of a wait for even the most patient of genre enthusiasts. Until the newly constructed hotel of the title gets the haunted treatment so far into the proceedings, we are forced to witness overacting characters occasionally laughing with each other, occasionally backstabbing each other, and occasionally flirting with each other, including one burly and aggressive man who unknowingly drinks a potion that is meant for a lady which turns him into a flamboyant homosexual because the early 80s were a different time. The musical interludes are frequent in number, the wacky sound effect-ridden slapstick is also frequent in number, the exaggerated yelling is, (you guessed it), also ALSO frequent in number, but the last act has some fun supernatural set pieces to get behind. Transparent ghost zombies coming out of the walls, wailing scary noises on the soundtrack, a guy getting impaled, a guy getting crushed by a chandelier during a song and dance number, a guy getting run over by a driver-less car, and another getting electrocuted, etc.
Over-burdended with dopey, tasteless slapstick subplots as well as a staggering five musical numbers, Purana Mandir, (The Old Temple), suffers from the usual Bollywood ailments that Tulsi and Shyam Ramsay's genre films indulged in. On the plus side, it does deliver a lot of ghoulish window dressing and censored exploitation within its laborious one-hundred and thirty-eight minute running time. The camera zoom abuse is off the charts, along with tons of fog, blaring noises, a guy who gets ping-pong ball eyes after being possessed by a headless demon, said headless demon rejoining with his body to enact his centuries-prophesied curse, Bava-esque lighting on a creepy mansion and underground crypt, torch-bearing villagers, and a bloody shower scene where the woman keeps her one-piece bathing suit on since nudity of any kind is never allowed in these movies. Men gawk at cleavage, and Indian comedian Jagdeep portrays a completely unnecessary scenery-chewing rapist character who looks like Robert Downey Jr. in Tropic Thunder, getting plenty of screen time against the film's better judgement. The main gist of the story involves the classic motif of a condemned bad guy vowing his revenge on the decedents of his persecutors, which is something that the Ramsay's certainly deliver on for long stretches. Unfortunately, they also deliver on pointless padding that makes the whole thing bloated and significantly skippable.
One of the Ramsay brothers more straightforward genre works that mercifully clocks in at under two hours, Saamri, (Satan), is otherwise no different or worse than the lot of the sibling duo's outrageous horror movies. Several cast members who had previously appeared in Ramsay joints show up again, and unfortunately one of them is the obnoxious and wretchedly unfunny comedian Jagdeep, here playing a mansion servant called Changez Khan who mugs directly into camera, jumps up and down like Daffy Duck, and bulldozes though inane dialog. Removing his character entirely would help wonders, but the Ramsay brothers continually balanced out the garish horror bits with dopey comic relief, all of which enhances both the madness and the boredom. The story finds Anirudh Agarwal playing the one-hundred and thirty-five year old occult sorcerer title character who is murdered by family members in order to get a hold of his wealthy estate, only to be resurrected by his goonie and sent on a zombie revenge mission. A few of the set pieces are over the top and fun, sometimes adhering to brute violence and other times arbitrary supernatural "logic" just to get the bad guys systematically out of the way. Also, one of the musical numbers is a reworking of Michael Jackson's "Thriller", not to be confused with that other Bollywood clip that went viral from A. Kodandarami Reddy's film Donga, coincidentally from the same year.



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