On the Big Screen :: What Once Was Riveting Has Now Gone Completely Bonkers in Jaume Collet-Serra's The Shallows (2016)

Nancy Adams is a person in crisis. With the recent death of her mother after a long bout with cancer, the magnitude of this seismic event has left Nancy’s life in a state of upheaval. She has quit med-school halfway through her last year, is currently estranged from her father over this, and in an effort to work through the grieving process and come to terms with her loss, Nancy is on a pilgrimage to visit all the places her mother had surfed when she was younger, using a series of old snapshots as her topographical guide, hoping to reconnect with what once was and fill this new gaping hole. And here, our story picks up with Nancy finding the secluded beach in the wilds of Mexico where her mom first rode these waves after learning she was pregnant with her eldest daughter.

Now, some amazing cellphone reception helps us get that plot dump out of the way before Nancy (Lively) suits up and paddles out, where we find out she’s not as alone as she thinks. Two other surfers are already there shooting film on a mounted GoPro but, in a nice twist, they don’t harass her, offer her the layout on the rocks and coral to watch out for, and let her be. And after a full day of rejuvenating waves, as the sun sets and the other two head in, Nancy paddles out for one more ride; a decision she will soon come to regret.

Spotting something odd on the horizon, she paddles out further and discovers the strange outcropping aren't rocks at all but a whale carcass that has been partially devoured -- and by something pretty big, too, judging by the bite marks. Realizing what she’s stumbled upon, Nancy breaks for the shore but it's already too late as a ginormous great white shark abandons its meal and draws a bead on her...

In an interview with EmpireOnline, director Jaume Collet-Serra swears JAWS (1975) had no real influence on his film, The Shallows (2016) -- well, aside from a giant shark trying to eat people, ‘natch. The man behind the remake of House of Wax (2005) and Orphan (2009) said his was “more of a survival movie. Very simple, very economical. One character.” And added, “I wanted to make a summer movie. I have been doing thrillers that have been sort of complex and dark and light, mostly, and I just wanted a change of pace. It's almost like every time I've done a movie recently, it's always in the winter and in the snow. I've always said, ‘I hope my next movie can be in a tropical beach.’ Finally I found the movie that was in a tropical beach.” And find it he did with a script penned by Anthony Jaswinski, who also wrote the interesting sci-fi / horror hybrid, Vanishing on 7th Street (2010).

When I first saw the teaser trailer for The Shallows I thought it looked great and very harrowing, with a surfer, her leg tore open and bleeding, screaming for help, clinging desperately to small rock in the middle of the water while a large shadow circles around just beneath the waves. It was a wonderful image that really impends the dread on a primal level. But when I saw the full blown trailer I got angry, feeling it had given too much away in a “I guess she makes it to the buoy” sense. Still, I was intrigued enough to give it a go, and so I did. And in the end, glad I did, too.

See, after the shark attacks and lacerates her leg something fierce, Nancy manages to make it to that small outcropping after finding a temporary refuge on that whale carcass, where she will essentially be safe until the tide comes back in the following morning unless she bleeds to death first. Triaging her leg as best she can, all Nancy can do is wait out the night and hope for rescue from shore a mere two hundred yards away. (It might as well be two hundred miles.) Thankfully, she’s not completely alone on this ever-eroding rock. No, she shares it with a gull who was also injured during the shark’s initial rampage. (Lively gives a good performance and carries the whole movie well, but the bird kinda steals the show if I’m being honest.) And from there, well, the film holds no real surprises as it quickly falls to Nancy to save herself (and get her life back on track) when all other potential rescuers are chummed. And how does she manage this? Well, in a film that up to that point had been played fairly straight and serious and realistic -- well, a reasonable facsimile of realistic, it kinda goes off its meds and goes completely off the rails as we barrel toward the climactic showdown between surfer and shark.

Yeah, four days later and I am still trying to get my head around that ending of The Shallows, where the film seemed to have gotten a wild hair up its ass for a denouement that appears to have been inspired by a Chuck Jones’ Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote chase scene. I really don’t wanna spoil what happens after Nancy reaches the apparent safety of the buoy because it was that ah-mazing but equally flabbergasting -- though I will say it almost lost me completely when the shark went airborne. While it was on fire. I caught this at a matinee in a nearly empty theater. Behind me were a six-pack of girls between the ages of 13 and 15 and in front was a mom and her two boys, probably between nine and ten. They were all jumping and screaming when they were supposed to, laughing after, and cheering our heroine on. And it was great. It’s always fun to watch a movie with an appreciative, in-tune audience. But, man, the stunned silence when we reached the big payoff was deafening, broken up by a solitary, disbelieving raspberry. Yeah, that’s me raising my hand. That was me. And it wasn’t a derisive, screw-you snort, more of a wide-eyed “Are ya kidding?!"

Judging by the abrupt tonal shift of the last ten minutes, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that ending was a result of test-audience dickering or a studio-demanded punch-up but I don’t think so. At least I could find no evidence of such. But I fear that ending might ruin the movie for some. Then again, it might salvage it for others. Fair warning: that whackadoodle climax isn’t the film’s only problem either.

There’s some unreliable narrator issues as the camera angle switches around, screwing with perceived distances. Then, there’s a bit of bad-stereotyping during the overnight when a drunken local decides to rob our heroine instead of effecting a rescue, which eventually gets him eaten; and the only reason he’s there in the first place is to basically punch-up the shark’s kill count and that’s it. And high tide and low tide aside, sometimes the film can’t quite decide on just how deep the water is from shot to shot, which tends to add to the impossibility of a shark that big doing what it does. (And I kinda wanted to punch the cloying epilogue right in the face.) On the plus side, there’s Lively’s performance, Steven Seagull’s performance, decent F/X, and I enjoyed how Collet-Serra solved the problem of letting the audience in on the character’s use of social media onscreen; and his use of low angles or keeping the camera shooting up from underneath the water to play on the vulnerability of no longer being on top of the food chain was top notch -- though he also seems to be obsessed with showing off his lead actress' rear-end during the surfing scenes.

Perhaps it might’ve been better served with an ending where our heroine simply gets away using her wits instead of going all Bruckheimer and Bay with a Looney Tunes twist. (The movie even kinda sets this up a bit with a discarded hook.) Maybe. Meh. Tallying it all up I can say that I enjoyed The Shallows quite a bit and I think it ultimately achieved its goals as a throwaway piece of summer escapism. Hell, I might even go see it again. The ending went nuts, yes, but it wasn’t terrible by any stretch -- I cannot stress that enough; it just went completely bonkers. Until then, I know I was pretty riveted through the whole thing and I think you might be, too -- just be sure to brace yourself for that ending.

The Shallows (2016) Ombra Films :: Weimaraner Republic Pictures :: Columbia Pictures / EP: Douglas C. Merrifield / P: Lynn Harris, Matti Leshem / D: Jaume Collet-Serra / W: Anthony Jaswinski / C: Flavio Martínez Labiano / E: Joel Negron / M: Marco Beltrami / S: Blake Lively, Óscar Jaenada, Brett Cullen, Sedona Legge

Hubrisween 2015 :: J is for The Jaws of Death (1976)

Somewhere off the coast of Key West, Florida, a chartered fishing trip turns deadly when a rogue scuba diver cuts loose a shark they've got hooked on a line, then boards and proceeds to slaughter the passengers and crew. And though he never takes the mask off during the attack, once he reaches shore we recognize a certain shark-toothed pendant worn by Sonny Stein (Jaeckel), self-proclaimed protector of the local shark population.

Most of the locals are aware of his obsessions, just not the homicidal tendencies as several fishing charters have gone missing over the last several weeks, and have branded him as the kook who likes to talk to fish. And after saving the local aquabat (three underwater shows daily at the Dewedropp Inn) from an attempted rape, Stein confides in a seemingly sympathetic Karen (Bishop) his origin:

Seems while diving for gold near the Philippines, Stein's boat was attacked and sunk by pirates but he managed to escape through shark infested waters with nary a nibble, earning him that pendant from the local shark-worshiping tribe, which does, indeed, grant him a telepathic link with sharks, including his best friends Sammy and Matilda (-- who are not Makos as the alternate title would suggest but Tiger sharks). Matilda is also very, very pregnant. And here, the plot really gets going when Stein agrees to loan her out to a local marine biologist, who seems just a bit too eager to witness a live shark birth in a controlled environment -- he typed ominously; and then Karen helps to dupe him into the loan of another shark to help spice up her aquatic act to save her belligerent, beached-whale of husband's dive of a bar. Multiple decisions Stein will soon come to regret...

Okay, then, William "Bill" Grefe was bit by the acting bug early. But after spending several years in summer stock, his dreams were interrupted by the Korean War. And after his stint with the Navy was up, he found himself married, with three kids, and paying the bills as a fireman in Miami. However, his showbiz desire would not go quietly and he stayed in the game, shifting from acting to writing screenplays. And after several years of rejections, a local south Florida outfit headed by Herb Vendig optioned his script for The Checkered Flag (1964). Grefe was invited to the shooting location in case rewrites were needed and, here, fate stepped in when the slotted director fell ill and withdrew from the production. And after a quick meeting in a hotel room, Grefe was suddenly promoted to director; and this simple twist of fate launched one of the most fascinating runs in independent regional exploitation filmmaking.

Over the next decade, Florida's answer to Roger Corman churned out about one film a year, cashing in on trends, be it beach party monster movies [Sting of Death (1965)], outlaw bikers [The Wild Rebels (1967)], dropping out and tuning in [The Hooked Generation (1968)], or killer animal / nature's revenge [Stanley (1972)]. Always odd, often downright bizarre, and usually blessed with some trippy musical interludes, Grefe always had a distinct visual style and the Florida sun, green swamps, and clear blue waters always made the colors just pop onscreen. Too bad the excruciating padding, limited acting ability of his stock players, and the always present animal cruelty in nearly each and every feature kinda kills the buzz and ruins things a bit.

Now, considering the timing of its release, one would definitely assume that Jaws of Death (1976) was made to cash in on the runaway box-office of Jaws (1975) but, no, it really isn't -- at least not in the way we've come to know them. (A lack of a lawsuit by Universal backs this up.) There's no metaphoric man vs. beast action, no knock-off Indianapolis speeches, or no grief over closing or not closing the beaches. If anything, Jaws of Death is just a rehash of Grefe's own Stanley, where he just subbed in sharks for rattlesnakes; and both actually rip-off Daniel Mann's Willard (1971), where a bullied anti-social uses his army of rats to gain revenge on his tormentors. Grefe also claims to have written the script long before Jaws came out but couldn't sell it until Spielberg's film exploded, and suddenly, several distributors were beating down his door with Cannon Films winning out.

The film's notorious reputation is well-earned on the surrogate shark's revenge premise alone and, turns out, Jaws of Death is as dumb as it sounds and yet it's nowhere near as gonzo as you'd hope because there's something in the mix that elevates it just a notch above those noxious expectations. And what that is an arresting performance by Richard Jaeckel as our faux Aquaman and designated shark protector. The character is clearly insane, and the actor’s performance brings a certain manic twitch that really grounds things instead of amping them up to ludicrous speed.

The scene that triggers the final rampage, where Stein discovers the evil marine biologist has killed and vivisected one of his beloved sharks, killing Matilda's unborn litter in the process, and his total meltdown over this is so jarring it kinda jolts you out of the mise en stoopidity of the film, making it hard to readjust when he gruesomely takes out the biologists, a couple of shark poachers, the duplicitous bar owner, and finally, Karen, sabotaging her show, allowing the shark -- well, a reasonable facsimile, to pounce on her in the pool once the curtain rises. And then, soon surrounded by the authorities, Stein, still wracked with guilt for betraying his true friends so badly, does the honorable thing, discards the amulet, and then jumps in the water, teeming with sharks, to accept his fate.

Now, while nowhere near as bad as the wholesale shark slaughter of Rene Cardona Jr. [Tintorera (1977), Bermuda Triangle (1978)], Jaws of the Death does commit the same atrocities with at least a dozen sharks put down for the film both onscreen and off. Also of note, the film’s much-ballyhoo’d claim of filming with live sharks sans safety cages loses all of its luster when you realize each and every 'live' shark used had all their teeth removed. Sadly, if you watch a lot of shark-themed genre films from this era most equated as shark snuff films. Sadder still, Grefe really could have had something here, with the hero fighting for conservation, turning the tables on those who would hunt them to extinction (the moment when one of the poachers takes a bang-stick to the head was actually kinda cathartic), but, alas, in the end he had some trouble practicing what he was preaching.

What is Hubrisween? This is Hubrisween. And now, Boils and Ghouls, be sure to follow this linkage to keep track of the whole conglomeration of reviews for Hubrisween right here. Or you can always follow we collective head of knuckle on Letterboxd.

Jaws of Death (1976) Mako Associates :: Universal Majestic Inc. :: Cannon Film Distributors / EP: Doro Vlado Hreljanovic, Paul Joseph / P: William Grefe / AP: Bob Bagley, Robert Plumb / D: William Grefe / W: Robert W. Morgan, William Grefe / C: Julio C. Chávez / E: Julio C. Chávez, Ronald Sinclair / M: William Loose, Paul Ruhland / S: Richard Jaeckel, Jennifer Bishop, Buffy Dee, Harold Sakata, John Davis Chandler

Before You Go Into the Water, Best to Know Your Place on the Food Chain :: Spoilers Ahoy! :: A Beer-Gut Reaction to Open Water (2003)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

"Daniel ... Where's the boat?"

___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

As far as nightmare situations go, you'd be hard pressed to find a more dire situation to find yourself in than the two protagonists in Open Water.


Imagine the feeling coming to the surface after a fine day of scuba-diving only to find the boat you chartered has puttered off and left you stranded in the middle of the ocean -- and what lurks just below the surface. No one knows where you are ... No ones knows you're missing ... With no food, and no drinkable water, you're prospects for survival are somewhere between Jack and [expletive deleted.]

Yeah, my stomach would be
somewhere south of my testicles.

Shot on weekends on a minimal budget, Open Water is based on the true story of Tom and Eileen Lonergan, who met a similar fate somewhere around the Great Barrier Reef back in 1998. A technically sound, no-frills film, the set-up is quick and simple and dirty with likable protagonists going through the fairly predictable baggage as they try to stay afloat, are slowly surrounded by sharks, and rush through all the stages of grief in the film's short 80-minutes: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and -- if you don't get hung up on one of those four, you finally get to acceptance of the hand you've been dealt.

And accept it they do.

And in this age of brutal irony in film, we should all know that no matter how much we get to like and root for the characters of Daniel and Susan (Travis, Ryan), and no matter how emotionally involved we get, and no matter how much writer/director Chris Kentis teases us with the possibility of rescue, we shouldn't be all that surprised at the ending when the characters don't make it and quietly surrender to the inevitable sea and the swarming sharks.


For the record: nobody knows what really happened to the Lonergans either, and I honestly don't have a problem with the same ending of Open Water. Unlike some people, I know that when I step into the ocean or venture deep into the woods, I'm no longer on top of the food chain. Everybody's gotta eat, and the responsibility is mostly yours when you put yourself on the menu. Don't get me wrong; what happened to Daniel and Susan, and the Lonergans, is a tragic accident, which brings me to the only thing I didn't like about the movie. In fact, it kinda pissed me off, even though the movie was technically over:


During the closing credits, a tag video shows a fisherman bringing in a shark. And when he proceeds to gut it to see what it's been eating, aside from a few fish heads, he pulls out Susan's camera and laughs, wondering if it still works.


I'm gonna call Kentis on this scene. I think I know what he was shooting for, here, but he missed the profundity mark and hit a trite bulls-eye instead. It's a cheap, poke in the eye that I didn't appreciate. So to you, sir, I say if you're gonna put your audience through that kind of emotional wringer and downer ending, at least have the balls to have a hand or a foot fall out of that damned shark's stomach.


Open Water (2003) Plunge Pictures LLC :: Lions Gate Films / P: Laura Lau / AP: Estelle Lau / D: Chris Kentis / W: Chris Kentis / C: Chris Kentis, Laura Lau / E: Chris Kentis / M: Graeme Revell / S: Blanchard Ryan, Daniel Travis, Saul Stein, Michael E. Williamson, Cristina Zenato