Tantric Tourists follows a group of wealthy, Western, New Age-types in their journey across India and toward enlightenment — or so they believe. Their mantra is "Breathe and squeeze." (Squeeze your asshole, that is. But you must do it without squeezing your butt cheeks.) And with all this squeezing and breathing, they need some rest.
An eccentric New Yorker recommends an exercise that makes those participating look like they're speaking in tongues while doing some abridged version of the chicken dance.
There are a few — read very few — touching moments as barriers fall among the group members and many of them, exhausted by the quick pace of the trip, resign themselves to the experience. But the film never strays too far from the quirky or the ridiculous. The subjects won't let them.