Hotel Poseidon opens with a long single shot of what we will eventually come to know as the lobby of the hotel. It’s a disgusting, skin crawl-inducing visual: random fish tanks filled with filthy water, electrical cords duct-taped and snaking along the walls, an ancient coffee urn sitting untouched in the corner. It perfectly establishes the tone of the world we are about to enter, one that is unclean and chaotic, unnatural to the highest degree 

Immediately after this opening, we are introduced to the supposed manager of the hotel: Dave (Tom Vermeir). We watch in detail as Dave slowly prepares for the day, each action somehow a little grosser than the last. Dave slowly floats from one menial task to another, more like a zombie than an actual human. There isn’t much to do, since the hotel is closed and it appears there hasn’t been a guest in a long time. This changes when Nora (Anneke Sluiters) appears at the door, persistent in her need that she be let in and given a room. Nora’s appearance is the catalyst for the surreal, hypnotic, oftentimes religious experience that Dave goes on for the remainder of the run time. 

To try and talk about the story in a meaningful, linear manner would be doing a disservice to what writer/director Stefan Lernous is likely trying to accomplish with Hotel Poseidon. It’s not a traditional narrative in that Dave has a want and there are obstacles standing in the way of that want. Instead, each vignette that Dave finds himself in is infused with absurdity and surrealism, meant to invoke emotion and discomfort in the viewer. The movie becomes very much about the visuals. We catch glimpses of heaven and hell, as well as a colorless purgatory. Tucked away in there is a brief trip to the Garden of Eden, with Dave serving as the Garden’s Adam. It’s a dizzying, breathless experiment with more hits than misses. Lernous’s visuals are evocative and unforgettable, staying with you long after the movie has ended. More importantly, it’s the feeling that the visuals are able to stir up that persist: the feelings of discomfort, revulsion, sometimes familiarity. It’s a testament to Lernous’s skill as a director. 

Hotel Poseidon, in all reality, will mean different things to different viewers. Christian imagery and ideas are plentiful, and one could most obviously read it as a battle for Dave’s soul. Tom Vermeir plays Dave as a blank slate, mostly passive to the action taking place around him. Each situation Dave finds himself in, the environment around invokes questions about morals. The characters in each of these scenes come to represent something else, and they present larger ethical challenges. These scenes demand a little more of their audience by asking for closer examinations than what is just occurring on screen. 

What is very clear is that Hotel Poseidon won’t be for all viewers. It’s a daring, unflinching vision from Stefan Lernous, one that isn’t always accessible. But given the chance, it’s a movie that can offer gratifying rewards and deep insights to anyone that gives itself over to its spell. 

8 out of 10