There's no denying that sharksploitation is the 'sploitation de jour. Most exploitation subgenres take place in previous generations, like the nunsploitation films of the '70s, the blaxsploitation films of the '70s, and the nazisploitation films of the, heh, '70s. Well, the 2000s and 2010s lay claim to sharksploitation. This isn't to say there aren't precurors. Jaws (1975) is, of course, the Black Narcissus of sharksploitation; but there are its ridiculous sequels, films like Deep Blue Sea (1999), and many much cheaper shark movies.
What's interesting about an exploitation subgenre isn't its august precursors or its saturation period--that's the period when the same old narrative is clearly old and tired--but its decadent period, when all creativity is set to scattershot in the hopes something will hit and make the screenplay original. This is the period that gives us the most baroque, bizarre examples of a subgenre. There are only so many times you can have an angry shark attack a beach before it gets boring. But if that shark can take out a commercial jet just by jumping from the sea, it's stupid, but it's not boring.
That's a glorious example of the thoroughly decadent Megashark versus Giant Octopus (2009), a production of the SyFy network. While SyFy films are much derided for their weak CG, washed-up TV actors, and below-average screenplays, the freedom they gave screenwriters to go wild with the CG sharks essentially created sharksploitation as it now stands. How does it now stand? Well, here are some of the titles: Megashark versus Giant Octopus, Megashark versus Crocosaurus (2010), Sharktopus (2010), Shark Night 3D (2011), Swamp Shark (2011), Sand Sharks (2011), of course, Super Shark, and, my personal favourite title, Shark Exorcist (2011).
While the trailer suggests Super Shark is much the same as the SyFy sharksploitation movies, if perhaps a little more tongue-in-cheek, what makes it such a special entry into the subgenre is that it's co-written and directed by Fred Olen Ray, who specialized in over-the-top bizarre horror comedies back in the '80s, making cult classics like Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers (1988), Beverly Hills Vamp (1989), and Scalps (1983). Could Super Shark be a return to form? Not quite, but it's quite a bit better than any of the other sharksploitation movies mentioned and is intentionally satirizing the subgenre.
Super Shark concerns a shark released by an oil rig's reckless drilling, a shark with the ability to walk around on its fins and even use them to fly. The oil rig, like a giant metal vagina, was naturally destroyed in the process of giving birth to the supershark, attracting the attention of an anti-oil company crusader who looks pretty good in a bikini. She investigates the water and harasses the CEO over dinner and champagne. Meanwhile, a bikini contest is taking place on the shore and two local lifeguards are competing for the same buff dude. But how will they stop the super shark before he eats all the beach losers?
Well, since Super Shark is a genre send-up, we know it'll have to involve the army and a preposterous solution. As it happens, it does! As even the trailer informs us, "Walking tank for a walking shark!" Indeed. Actually, that Super Shark is a satire is in the very title, which mocks the trend in SyFy movies to make sharks impossibly powerful, as in the aforementioned commercial jet destruction. Of supershark, "That's one big ass shark," we're told. And given the guy who says this hasn't seen the shark, but has only seen what it's done, he'd be right. A shark that can topple an oil rig would have to be thousands of tons heavy. But shark movies don't work that way. Little known fact: sharks can brace themselves against thin air, making it possible to topple oil rigs with sheer muscular force even while leaping in the air. You'd expect the shark to just lift his body up, but no, he pulls the rig down. Physics does not apply in shark movies, of course. And that's part of the joke. But the best joke of all is when the shark starts eating up the melodramatic subplots, a hallmark of SyFy writing. Well-done, supershark!
The best sharksploitation movies are a flurry of witty soundbytes and preposterous shark attack sequences. Super Shark scores many points on both fronts. Most of the soundbytes belong to John Schneider as the oil CEO, whose earnest yet sardonic involvement in the film and/or narrative is just the level of irony needed for this sort of film. It's a very good performance. And the shark appears to be a combination of CG and model, or perhaps it's just unusually good CG for the budget. A damn fine-looking shark. As with any sharksploitation film, the plot tends to drag. Generally this is when the army gets involved and we have to wait for them to try out various weapons on the invincible beast. Fred Olen Ray knows this and tries to toss as much plot down the shark's gullet as possible, keeping the film hustling along far better than other sharksploitation flicks. Nevertheless, there's a fair amount of screenwriting debris that slows the pace. Surely the shark could've eaten another subplot or two? Otherwise, Super Shark is quite an entertaining, low-budget sharksploitation horror comedy.
What's interesting about an exploitation subgenre isn't its august precursors or its saturation period--that's the period when the same old narrative is clearly old and tired--but its decadent period, when all creativity is set to scattershot in the hopes something will hit and make the screenplay original. This is the period that gives us the most baroque, bizarre examples of a subgenre. There are only so many times you can have an angry shark attack a beach before it gets boring. But if that shark can take out a commercial jet just by jumping from the sea, it's stupid, but it's not boring.
That's a glorious example of the thoroughly decadent Megashark versus Giant Octopus (2009), a production of the SyFy network. While SyFy films are much derided for their weak CG, washed-up TV actors, and below-average screenplays, the freedom they gave screenwriters to go wild with the CG sharks essentially created sharksploitation as it now stands. How does it now stand? Well, here are some of the titles: Megashark versus Giant Octopus, Megashark versus Crocosaurus (2010), Sharktopus (2010), Shark Night 3D (2011), Swamp Shark (2011), Sand Sharks (2011), of course, Super Shark, and, my personal favourite title, Shark Exorcist (2011).
While the trailer suggests Super Shark is much the same as the SyFy sharksploitation movies, if perhaps a little more tongue-in-cheek, what makes it such a special entry into the subgenre is that it's co-written and directed by Fred Olen Ray, who specialized in over-the-top bizarre horror comedies back in the '80s, making cult classics like Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers (1988), Beverly Hills Vamp (1989), and Scalps (1983). Could Super Shark be a return to form? Not quite, but it's quite a bit better than any of the other sharksploitation movies mentioned and is intentionally satirizing the subgenre.
Super Shark concerns a shark released by an oil rig's reckless drilling, a shark with the ability to walk around on its fins and even use them to fly. The oil rig, like a giant metal vagina, was naturally destroyed in the process of giving birth to the supershark, attracting the attention of an anti-oil company crusader who looks pretty good in a bikini. She investigates the water and harasses the CEO over dinner and champagne. Meanwhile, a bikini contest is taking place on the shore and two local lifeguards are competing for the same buff dude. But how will they stop the super shark before he eats all the beach losers?
Well, since Super Shark is a genre send-up, we know it'll have to involve the army and a preposterous solution. As it happens, it does! As even the trailer informs us, "Walking tank for a walking shark!" Indeed. Actually, that Super Shark is a satire is in the very title, which mocks the trend in SyFy movies to make sharks impossibly powerful, as in the aforementioned commercial jet destruction. Of supershark, "That's one big ass shark," we're told. And given the guy who says this hasn't seen the shark, but has only seen what it's done, he'd be right. A shark that can topple an oil rig would have to be thousands of tons heavy. But shark movies don't work that way. Little known fact: sharks can brace themselves against thin air, making it possible to topple oil rigs with sheer muscular force even while leaping in the air. You'd expect the shark to just lift his body up, but no, he pulls the rig down. Physics does not apply in shark movies, of course. And that's part of the joke. But the best joke of all is when the shark starts eating up the melodramatic subplots, a hallmark of SyFy writing. Well-done, supershark!
The best sharksploitation movies are a flurry of witty soundbytes and preposterous shark attack sequences. Super Shark scores many points on both fronts. Most of the soundbytes belong to John Schneider as the oil CEO, whose earnest yet sardonic involvement in the film and/or narrative is just the level of irony needed for this sort of film. It's a very good performance. And the shark appears to be a combination of CG and model, or perhaps it's just unusually good CG for the budget. A damn fine-looking shark. As with any sharksploitation film, the plot tends to drag. Generally this is when the army gets involved and we have to wait for them to try out various weapons on the invincible beast. Fred Olen Ray knows this and tries to toss as much plot down the shark's gullet as possible, keeping the film hustling along far better than other sharksploitation flicks. Nevertheless, there's a fair amount of screenwriting debris that slows the pace. Surely the shark could've eaten another subplot or two? Otherwise, Super Shark is quite an entertaining, low-budget sharksploitation horror comedy.