In a perfect example of two things being true at once, it feels both like only yesterday and a lifetime ago that a film from 2013 called “Sharknado” reared its gnashing head before an audience ready to devour what would quickly become a franchise, all of it released on Syfy, each entry upping the ante of ridiculousness across six (!) installments. Not to be forgotten, only years before the head-scratching debut of “Sharknado,” Samuel L. Jackson had enough of those rascally “Snakes on a Plane,” and in the years since, creature features have continued to come and go, spanning both ends of the quality meter, with Jackson himself no stranger to the genre, having appeared in “Deep Blue Sea” seven years before his aerial battle with those memorable, slithery opponents. Owing plenty to “Jaws,” “Deep Blue Sea” saw an undersea research facility under siege from an army of experimental, mutated sharks, and in Netflix’s latest offering, “Thrash,” a best-of-both-worlds scenario quickly emerges.
The film’s lean 86-minute runtime tells the story of a Category 5 hurricane laying waste to a small Southern town, a smattering of residents simply trying to survive, and the unexpected visitors the rising tide brings in. Yes, it’s sharks—bull sharks, to be precise—and with local shark expert Dale (Djimon Hounsou) separated from his niece Dakota (Whitney Peak) in the melee, it’s up to him to infiltrate the deadly waters in a valiant rescue attempt, while also raising the question of how convenient it is that a shark expert happens to be in the right place at the right time. Movies, am I right?
Unfortunately, Dakota has her hands full at the moment, as Lisa (Phoebe Dynevor), an NYC transplant on the verge of giving birth, was on her way to the hospital when Hurricane Henry decided it was time to make landfall, trapping her in her car before Dakota scoops her up. The two take refuge in Dakota’s crumbling house with a school of sharks nearby. Speaking of crumbling, a nearby trio of foster siblings—Dee (Alyla Browne), Ron (Stacy Clausen), and Will (Dante Ubaldi)—having had it with their ill-tempered foster parent Billy (Matt Nable), also find themselves trapped inside their flooded home, as sharks make their way in, ready to devour and generally make a bad situation worse for everyone involved. Will the storylines intersect? Will others be left out entirely? Will the ending remain as predictable as every predecessor from decades prior?
The answer to all of that, naturally, is a resounding yes, with director Tommy Wirkola (“Violent Night”) unafraid to plunge into the meat of the story relatively quickly, even if a somewhat toothless outcome results for anyone expecting a gore-infused dose of aquatic mayhem. There are some undeniably fun kills, but the human element dominates the narrative in what could have been the cheesiest kind of B-movie, perfect for those seeking the next “Sharknado.” Sadly, that aspect falls victim to a combination of lackluster screenwriting and teetering acting from nearly everyone on board.
Dynevor’s Lisa, for example, might be saddled with the most perplexing character arc of all. After being pulled from the rising waters by a determined Dakota—who only moments earlier is seen trying desperately to control her breathing because of extreme agoraphobia—Lisa’s first move after reaching the safety of Dakota’s bedroom is, oddly, to begin barking orders at her: check her dilation, concoct an escape plan, find help, all for someone she has just met. It’s odd, and though presumably intended to portray the expectant mother as determined in the face of unimaginable horror, without more backstory to support such a shift, it only becomes stranger. Her scenes do, however, tee up one of the film’s most eye-widening moments, which involves her newborn child and, well, really needs to be seen.
Meanwhile, our three foster siblings are off making their own movie, with a storyline involving their neglectful foster parent and possible—checks notes—fraud, which the script somehow finds a way to resolve in the third act amid the rain and shark-infested chaos. Their scenes do at least contain the film’s best death, along with a strangely satisfying “Home Alone”-esque booby-trap sequence soundtracked to Vanessa Carlton’s “A Thousand Miles” that, somehow, works. It’s something I never thought I’d type, yet here we are.
As for Hounsou’s Dale, he is mostly here to provide a shark background while making his way toward Dakota, with an ambitious news reporter tagging along for the ride. Whether it is yet another screenplay fumble or just some of the most groan-worthy acting seen in some time, the annoyance meter spikes every time the reporter opens his mouth, whether to ask any of his read-the-room questions or to tee up exposition. Could we have done without him? Most certainly.
It’s all over almost as quickly as it begins, an easy enough watch that is unlikely to achieve the same cultural significance as a tornado packed with sharks or the menace of Amity Island. The problems are many, the ease with which it goes down is high, and whether “Thrash” set out to craft a solid thriller or a purposeful schlockfest, it lands squarely in the middle, destined to be forgotten. Oh, and did you know Dale fears the hippopotamus more than sharks? I nearly forgot that, too. [C-]
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