By Benji Tunnell
Globe Columnist
JOPLIN, Mo. —
Even 35 years later, “Jaws” is still a groundbreaking movie.
Not only did it usher in the modern blockbuster era and help define summer as the event season, but it launched the careers of folks such as Stephen Spielberg, Richard Dreyfuss and Bruce the mechanical shark. To this day, I can pop in the DVD and feel the same sense of dread that consumed me the first time I saw it.
But we also have “Jaws” to thank for the plethora of imitators that have swarmed the cineplexes and DVD shelves since its success in 1975. Some have been passable, some entertaining, some downright unwatchable. But they still come.
The latest is actually a continuation of one of the earliest tributes, “Piranha.” “Piranha 3-D” picks up the torch of the original and carries it with pride. Whether that is a good thing or not is up to the viewer to decide.
Let’s be honest: Whether I liked this movie or not will make no difference to those planning on watching it. In fact, I’d reckon that most who will make up its audience has already been in the sparsely populated auditoriums for the opening weekend.
This is a movie that tells you exactly what you will be seeing with the title and poster, and no amount of gloss or polish will make it look any different. And there’s something refreshing about that.
Much like “Snakes on a Plane” embraced its cheesiness, “Piranha 3-D” knows exactly what it is and doesn’t aspire to be anything else. In fact, the movie has more cheese than the entire state of Wisconsin. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
The story is this: Lake Victoria, a quiet body of water, is about to see an annual spring break explosion of obnoxious frat boys and horny coeds. Soon enough, there are more douches there than the Massengill factory.
At the beginning of the week, there is seismic activity that causes the bed of the lake to rupture, opening up a series of caves and caverns. This also releases a flood of prehistoric carnivorous fish who seem to be a wee bit angry at having been modeled after James Carville. As the college lunkheads and nymphs hit the water, the hungry fish sense their prey and feed like the after-church crowd at Golden Corral.
Elisabeth Shue plays Julie Forester, the world’s most inept town sheriff, apparently with a force that numbers as high as five. She is tasked with fighting off a swarm of killer fish while trying to save a lake full of imbeciles.
Needless to say, her success is minimal, as the ravenous beasts feast on alcohol-soaked flesh and silicone.
In the meantime, her oldest son, Jake (Steven R. McQueen, doing the family name proud) is left in charge of her younger two children. It seems to me that, given her experience in “Adventures in Babysitting,” Shue should have known this wasn’t the best of ideas. Throw in a “Girls Gone Wild”-like video shoot with the always grating Jerry O’Connell as the director, and you have the makings of a rollicking good time.
The film is obviously an homage to the cheap Roger Corman-esque B-movies that used to make up midnight screenings and double features, and it is a successful one at that. From unknown or washed-up actors (as much as it saddens me to say this, Ving Rhames now fits into the latter) to gratuitous blood, nudity and offbeat humor, it pays tribute every step of the way. The fish devour the loud and annoying, yet leave the children alone.
As I found myself flashing back to some of my brother’s more obnoxious fraternity friends (which was just about all of them), I couldn’t help but root for the little fanged beasts in their quest to satiate their appetites. Those in charge try fruitlessly to stem the onslaught, using everything from shotguns to boat motors to try to stop them. It is all ridiculously over the top and surprisingly fun.
Aside from the anticipation of O’Connell’s death scene, some of the best parts came from the legitimate actors (I’d like to include Shue and Rhames here, but I just can’t justify it any more).
Dreyfuss tips his cap to the movie that helped make his name with a brief yet funny cameo at the beginning of the film, and Christopher Lloyd returns from parts unknown in full on Doc Brown mode. They know what they are in, and they just enjoy themselves in their small roles.
It isn’t art by any stretch of the imagination, but it is short and it does have its fun.
Piranha partnerships?
I’d like to see some “Freddy vs. Jason” style hybrids using some of the worst movies of this summer. Imagine, if you will:
~cting of Ashton Kutcher force the government to unleash their latest assassins -- killer fish. Doing what every single gun wielding member of the special forces was unable to, the fish devour the scenery as well as the actors. Kutcher is quickly punk’d into a watery grave.
~ “Piranha Eclipse”: Team Jacob or Team Edward? I’ll side with Team Ichthyoid as both vampires and werewolves go fang to fang and lose. Bella is torn as she can’t decide who she loves, the new suitors or the old. She is then torn to shreds, yet cannot muster any believable emotion as she is consumed.
~ “The Piranha Guys” : Will Ferrell breaks out his worn out arrested adolescence act, and Mark Wahlberg begins his overacting as the two investigate mysteriously chewed bodies that start appearing throughout the town. Ferrell goes into a spiel about how the tuna could defeat a lion, and is promptly decimated by the razor sharp teeth of those he was hunting. Wahlberg miraculously survives, as this particular group of killers is Jewish and finds that his hammy acting isn’t kosher.
~ “Expendable Piranhas” : It looks as though Sylvester Stallone and crew might be able to pull the victory out as their overwhelming firepower holds the schools at bay. At least until a couple get a nip off of his artificial biceps. After ingesting massive amounts of second hand HGH, they turn into super killing machines, turning the entire group into chum, including Dolph Lundgren, who was surprised to find out he hadn’t died 20 years earlier with his career.
