Ah camp, is there no film you cannot improve? Let's face it: Almost all of our favorite horror films are our favorite horror films because of some measurable injection of pure, unadulterated campiness into the equation. Monster movies are always better when you can laugh at the mayhem and murder on screen, while simultaneously being frightened by it. Of course, there is a line. Campiness loses a bit of its appeal when it's not entirely genuine, when it's so knowing in its cheesiness that everyone on screen seems to practically be winking at you the whole time. There needs to be an earnestness to the camp, otherwise it just turns into ironic tribute and nothing more.
Piranha 3-D is a movie that toes that line pretty carefully. I don't know if anyone around here even really remembers the Piranha movies of old, but those were movies that were pretty earnest in their campy awfulness, especially for being pretty blatant capitalizations on the fervor surrounding Jaws. In Piranha 3-D, director Alexandre Aja has gone out of his way to evoke the goofy, bloody vibe of those past pictures by unleashing a perfect monster movie premise: unleash prehistoric, man-eating fish on an unsuspecting lake town in the midst of Spring Break fever. Bring on the gore, and ratchet up the gratuitous boob shots, and you've got something pretty close to a sublime throwback to the olden days of innocently stupid horror filmmaking.
The movie practically is a rehashing of Jaws, right down to the opening scene cameo (and almost immediate, bloody dispatching) of Richard Dreyfuss fishing in picturesque Lake Victoria. As it is spring break, college kids from all around the country have flocked to the sleepy town under the auspices of getting their booze on amid scads of water-based DJ parties and wet t-shirt contests. Caught in the middle of all of this is the town constabulary, headed up by a rather salty looking Elisabeth Shue, as well as her kids, the oldest of which, Jake, ( Steven R. McQueen—no, really, that's his name) finds himself caught between a high school crush ( Jessica Szohr) and a sleazebag softcore porn king (a positively coke-addled Jerry O'Connell) who wants Jake to show him and his cadre of big-breasted lady friends around the lake in search of some great spots to shoot his...erm...masterpiece.
The first half of the movie spends a laborious amount of time setting up all these characters, their non-existent personalities, and the impending piranha-oriented doom that awaits, and it is a slow, unpleasant process. None of these characters are remotely interesting, and the more they speak, the faster I wanted them to die, horribly. At the very least, the movie does spend copious amounts of time flashing comically large breasts at the audience in increasingly poetic ways. At one point Kelly Brook and Riley Steele engage in what can only be described as naked underwater stripper ballet for what feels like an erotic eternity. And that's only four of the roughly eight billion boobs exposed over the course of this thing.
Once the second half kicks into gear, the titillation turns to terror (sort of) as the piranhas are unleashed whole hog upon the town and its myriad tourists. I don't want to downplay exactly how violent and disgusting the movie gets when the death starts up, so I won't. This movie is violent and disgusting beyond the scope of what I've seen in, like, ever. Severed limbs, half-eaten corpses, torn up flesh, and a lake's worth of blood are splayed on screen in unbelievably gratuitous fashion. Granted, none of this is scary in the least, but it sure is gross!
For a gore whore like me, it was a cackling delight to watch. I mean, if you're going to be a stupid, bloody horror movie, then be as bloody and stupid as possible about it. And to put a cherry on top, the movie actually gets pretty creative about some of its kills. It isn't just a bunch of teeth gnashing and people getting chewed up underwater. People get dispatched frequently in ways I simply could not have expected. O'Connell in particular, let's just say he gets a delightful comeuppance that goes on for far longer than is reasonable by any standard.
Now, with all that considered, let's make something perfectly clear: Unless you have a strong desire to watch naked breasts bounce around in fairly shoddy 3D (this is another post-produced 3D film, and the quality ain't so great), and then watch those breasts be torn to shreds by gnarly fish, there is no reason to watch this movie. Visually, it's pretty bland when there isn't absurd amounts of human flesh being ripped up (someone should probably clue the filmmakers into the fact that extended, murky underwater shots aren't very interesting, even in 3D), and the acting on display ranges from awkwardly stiff to pure, hysterical hamminess. O'Connell, as well as Christopher Lloyd as an unhinged fish expert, are both pretty good examples of what happens when you tell actors to just go batshit crazy. Lloyd hasn't been this bug-eyed and manic since his Doc Brown days, and even then he showed a defter touch. Granted, I don't mind hammy acting, but I do mind boring, and most of the people in this movie are pretty boring. Good thing the bulk of them turn into fish chow.
I can't even begin to call Piranha 3-D a good movie, really. There's scarcely a soul to care about amid all the mammaries and munching going on, and the quality of the film's 3D makes it a dubious watch at those inflated ticket prices. That said, I can't pretend I didn't have quite a bit of fun watching every grotesque, gratuitous moment this thing serves up. Aja treats this all with perhaps a bit too much knowing irony, but he delivers on the parts that count for its target audience. For gore fanatics and sexually frustrated teen boys, Piranha 3-D is the tits. Literally.
Piranha 3-D is a movie that toes that line pretty carefully. I don't know if anyone around here even really remembers the Piranha movies of old, but those were movies that were pretty earnest in their campy awfulness, especially for being pretty blatant capitalizations on the fervor surrounding Jaws. In Piranha 3-D, director Alexandre Aja has gone out of his way to evoke the goofy, bloody vibe of those past pictures by unleashing a perfect monster movie premise: unleash prehistoric, man-eating fish on an unsuspecting lake town in the midst of Spring Break fever. Bring on the gore, and ratchet up the gratuitous boob shots, and you've got something pretty close to a sublime throwback to the olden days of innocently stupid horror filmmaking.
The movie practically is a rehashing of Jaws, right down to the opening scene cameo (and almost immediate, bloody dispatching) of Richard Dreyfuss fishing in picturesque Lake Victoria. As it is spring break, college kids from all around the country have flocked to the sleepy town under the auspices of getting their booze on amid scads of water-based DJ parties and wet t-shirt contests. Caught in the middle of all of this is the town constabulary, headed up by a rather salty looking Elisabeth Shue, as well as her kids, the oldest of which, Jake, ( Steven R. McQueen—no, really, that's his name) finds himself caught between a high school crush ( Jessica Szohr) and a sleazebag softcore porn king (a positively coke-addled Jerry O'Connell) who wants Jake to show him and his cadre of big-breasted lady friends around the lake in search of some great spots to shoot his...erm...masterpiece.
Once the second half kicks into gear, the titillation turns to terror (sort of) as the piranhas are unleashed whole hog upon the town and its myriad tourists. I don't want to downplay exactly how violent and disgusting the movie gets when the death starts up, so I won't. This movie is violent and disgusting beyond the scope of what I've seen in, like, ever. Severed limbs, half-eaten corpses, torn up flesh, and a lake's worth of blood are splayed on screen in unbelievably gratuitous fashion. Granted, none of this is scary in the least, but it sure is gross!
For a gore whore like me, it was a cackling delight to watch. I mean, if you're going to be a stupid, bloody horror movie, then be as bloody and stupid as possible about it. And to put a cherry on top, the movie actually gets pretty creative about some of its kills. It isn't just a bunch of teeth gnashing and people getting chewed up underwater. People get dispatched frequently in ways I simply could not have expected. O'Connell in particular, let's just say he gets a delightful comeuppance that goes on for far longer than is reasonable by any standard.
I can't even begin to call Piranha 3-D a good movie, really. There's scarcely a soul to care about amid all the mammaries and munching going on, and the quality of the film's 3D makes it a dubious watch at those inflated ticket prices. That said, I can't pretend I didn't have quite a bit of fun watching every grotesque, gratuitous moment this thing serves up. Aja treats this all with perhaps a bit too much knowing irony, but he delivers on the parts that count for its target audience. For gore fanatics and sexually frustrated teen boys, Piranha 3-D is the tits. Literally.
