Director: Anthony C. Ferrante
Sharknado is a made-for-TV/made-for-laughs/made-to-be-a-cult-flick b-movie, the post reality-TV intentional-car-crash kind where, you figure, they might have hoped for something slightly closer to a bigger hit – like the fluke that was Snakes On A Plane – but by making it as dumb as can be (erm, a freak weather event issues a storm that pushes sharks up into the sky and leaves them flying through the air then crashing down to land, gnashing all the while and, um, destroying human life with the best CGI a b-movie budget can buy) the makers of this stupid film have managed to gain a bunch of positive reviews.
People will tell you that this is 90 minutes of your life you can’t get back and won’t want to – because flying sharks, caught in a whirlwind of dark, stormy waters is, like, so awesome man!
And, well, they’d – almost – be right.
A so-dumb-it’s-not-even-close-to-smart disaster film that features an even bigger disaster than flying storm sharks – chiefly, Tara Reid – could almost start to feel meta or at the very least like it’s circling in to eat itself in the absurdity stakes.
Ian Ziering who you know from back in the Beverly Hills 90210 (original series) days is a surfer named, er, Fin.
He helps the local bar wench (“I’m not a stripper!”) lock up shop and leg it away from the sharks. Fin’s ex-wife is played by a piece of wood – as almost acted by Tara Reid.
Cassie Scerbo’s Nova Clarke (the woman from the bar) has a scar on her leg by the way. See, she’s had a run-in with sharks before. This fuels her shotgun-toting anger. She’s got a score to settle. Hell Comes To Shark Town could have been a better title but no, Sharknado was what the film’s producers decided on.
I almost laughed. I almost winced. I almost fast-forwarded…
Oh fuckit. It’s kinda funny I guess. Kinda sad. A lotta stooped. But then anything you try to level at this film is something it’s already told you about itself in advance.
A fucking black cloud of sharks gets spat up in the air and then they come hurtling toward dry-land to eat up whatever humans get in their way; mostly aiming for the arms or legs so that what’s left of the scale-wage actor can do an OTT shriek for a bit before dying!
You want to defy/deny criticism then this is the sort of film you make. Apparently.
It screens tonight in New Zealand on Prime TV, 8.30pm.
You could do worse. Trouble is – with likely sequels/spinoffs already on the starter-block – you have to figure the film’s cast and crew could do too.