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BY TOM MEEK
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In most horny-teens-in-the-woods horror films, the watchword is "You can run, but you can’t hide." Here it’s "You can run, but don’t drink the water." Instead of a masked psycho wielding a blade, a flesh-eating virus serves as these wayward youths’ nemesis. And if that doesn’t get them, the rabid dog and the platoon of incensed rednecks will. Much of what these victims-in-waiting do defies common sense — even in the context of the genre — but that doesn’t matter once the carnage begins. Director (and Boston area native) Eli Roth has cooked up a gorefest that’s so stylish and graphic, even the most jaded will be watching through parted fingers — especially the leg-shaving scene where razor burn is the least of these people’s problems. There’s little from Last House on the Left, Evil Dead, and so on that Roth doesn’t steal, but he supplies enough wit and panache to call it his own. Beyond his make-up artist, Roth’s best asset is Giuseppe Andrews as the happy-go-lucky deputy who likes to party. (94 minutes
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