The sounds of sex are constantly heard in the background of “Motel Destino,” a sensuous tropical thriller set in a roadside motel near the Brazilian coast. As one of the hotel’s workers observes, “some people moan so hard you’d think they were getting chopped up” — which encapsulates this lurid film’s fun and games.
Heraldo (Iago Xavier) — the young crony of a drug-dealing mafiosa, and something of a himbo — takes an eager date to the titular establishment after a boozy evening at a bar. Unknown to him, fate will take the reins and root him to the motel for the remainder of the film: his hookup takes his cash while he’s sleeping, causing him to miss a big operation. Because Heraldo unintentionally sabotaged the plan, there’s now a target on his back — and no one, he figures, will think to look for him at the motel.
Shot by the esteemed cinematographer Hélène Louvart, who is known for her vivid color palettes, the film is doused in cherry reds and moody indigos. The hotel, which is surrounded by security walls to prevent patrons from leaving without paying, seems to exist in another reality — one that encourages secrets.
The motel’s owner, a mustachioed brute named Elias (Fábio Assunção) gives Heraldo room and board in exchange for his handyman services; though Elias, as well as his wife, Dayana (an electric Nataly Rocha), seem to be more interested in Heraldo’s looks than his usefulness. A dangerous love triangle takes form as the director Karim Aïnouz plunges us into the surreal routines within the motel, its clearing of sex toys, dirty sheets and the occasional corpse. The payoff feels somewhat slight, but the foreplay — the will-they-or-won’t-they and the will-he-find-out — builds up with energy and flare. Maybe climaxes are overrated, anyway.
Motel Destino
Not rated. Running time: 1 hour 55 minutes. In theaters.
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