Martin Wilson
(Dir.), “Great White”, Piccadilly Pictures/Altitude Media Group/Thrills
and Spills/Universal, 2021.
“We are told how
MARDUK slays TIAMAT – after much the same fashion that the Chief of Police of Amity
slays the great white shark in Benchley’s novel JAWS, blowing an evil wind (the
oxygen tank) into Her mouth and sending in an arrow (bullet) in after it to
explode her [sic.]. Surely, the two or three most box-office successful films
of the past few years, JAWS, THE EXORCIST and, perhaps, THE GODFATHER, are an
indication that the essence of Sumerian mythology is making itself felt in a
very real way in this, the latter half of the Twentieth Century?”
‘Simon’, from his
version of the Necronomicon
Those who encounter
Shakespeare for the first time are often struck by how familiar it all seems.
This stems mainly from the fact that many expressions which were coined in his
works have become commonplace turns of phrase in the English language and are
still being tossed about to this day. It’s the same, but to a lesser extent,
with Charles Dickens. This sense of being au fait with the material
leads some to feel that Shakespeare is somehow ‘old hat’, or unfashionable
(when it is in fact anything but), while others may ascribe a sense of coziness
to the work. With this instalment in a seemingly endless parade of shark
flicks, that sense of familiarity is firmly in place – but for very different
reasons.
Within the realm of
the shark-flick, this linguistic phenomenon is noticeable also. If you’ve seen “Jaws”
– arguably, the progenitor of the shark flick – you’ll be aware that many lines
from that movie have percolated from the celluloid and out into popular
culture. Lines like “we’re gonna need a bigger boat”, “here’s to
swimmin’ with bow-legged women”, “that’s a bad hat, Harry!” and “wanna
get blitzed and fool around?” have all become familiar catchphrases in
various niches of western life and we recognise them whenever we fall over
them. But, in line with such kitchen-sink dialogue, there’s another feature of
screenplay writing which breeds this sense of ‘been there, done that’.
I’ve harped on
about it before, but there is a rigid set of rules in place affecting the
writing and filming of B-grade cinema fare. I call it the ‘Hollywood Morality
Playbook’ and it can be detected almost every time you go to see a mass-market
horror flick like this one. Essentially, it’s a set of complex rules that dictate
how characters act and what happens to them after they transgress these
unwritten laws. If an unattached female character has sex early in the piece, she dies
later on; if a male character ogles a woman lewdly at the start of the show,
they die before the end. It writes itself… and is an example of extremely lazy
screenwriting. Oddly enough, it’s been around so long now that audience
expectation almost guarantees that movies subscribe to the Playbook, because
the money backing these cinematic offerings will only support something that’s ‘safe’.
With “Great White”, we see the Hollywood Morality Playbook in full,
workmanlike swing.
There are five
characters in this film – three men, two women – and, because the Playbook
demands it, two blondes and three brunettes (these latter three are also
non-Caucasian, which opens up another worm-can…). Hair-colour isn’t something I
bring up lightly: according to the Playbook, being blonde is either a signal
for imminent demise, or of heroic stature, depending upon the character’s
actions. The catch cry “blondes have more fun” is often treated as evidence for
being morally lax, so if a blonde misbehaves at the film’s commencement,
they’re dead by the third act. Brunette women are seen as ‘demure’ under
Playbook strictures and so they tend to win through; blonde women need to have
a certain something extra in order to make it to the credits.
We see that here:
our blonde woman is the business partner of her equally blonde, ex-marine
biologist, seaplane-pilot boyfriend. She is concerned about the viability of
their little tourism company; she cautiously balances the books; she keeps her
high-spirited boyfriend on track; she’s a nurse by training and she’s pregnant.
Her level-headedness guarantees that she will make it through (she also figures
prominently on the DVD’s cover – another point in her favour). Our brunette
woman is carrying around the ashes of her beloved grandfather – she wants to
scatter them on the reef where he and some others were once stranded and of
whom he was the only survivor. Her boyfriend is arrogant and rude, and she is
palpably embarrassed by his outbursts, especially when they are inspired by her
attempts to strike up a conversation with the Maori cook. Normally, her mild
flirting with the only other unattached male in the group would signal her
death; however, that urn of ashes counterbalances things somewhat.
Of the male
characters there’s only one thing to be said: don’t get attached. The blonde
guy is too much of a larrikin and a flake; the Japanese guy is pushy and
hot-tempered, governed by a huge sense of entitlement; and the cook is lazy and
superstitious, with a roaming gaze for the ladies. All doomed, and for really
no good reason. On a side note, it’s obvious that a decision was made to the
effect that everyone with a Y-chromosome should also bite the Big One; this
feels like a holdover from “Deep Blue Sea 3” where everyone who wasn’t
female – including the fish – died horribly. Who says these films don’t inform
and grow off each other?
Much is made in the
promotional material of the fact that the executive producers on this gig were
responsible for the “47 Metres Down” franchise. That hype, and the
resulting lacklustrousness of the product it’s promoting, can only signal that
this movie series is on the way out. Those two earlier films actually managed
to attract the involvement of relatively well-known players – Matthew Modine and Mandy Moore in
the first film and John Corbett in the second – but here, everyone’s agents
were obviously out to lunch when the casting calls were issued. Instead, we
have what looks like a bunch of “Neighbours” alumni and an American actress
of whom you’ve heard practically nothing (great Aussie accent though – that’s
no mean skill for a non-native speaker). I guess, along with a B-grade cast,
you end up with a B-grade set of scriptwriters leaning heavily on the crutch
that the Hollywood Morality Playbook provides. The result is a tedious piece of
cinematic fluff.
Seriously. Five
minutes in, I could have stopped and written down a list of who dies and who
lives, and it would’ve been right on the money. There are no surprises here and
nothing new to divert anyone, least of all a fan of this niche genre. Even the
special effects failed to impress: I’ve said before that the ease of
computer-generating bitey fish must drive the making of these films but here,
whoever was pushing the pixels was doing so with the help of a Dummy’s
guide. Computer Shark Generation for Complete Idiots. I’ve seen better
CGI sharks, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen worse (and remember, I’ve sat
through all of the “Sharknado” abominations!). Spielberg could make a
ton of flabby rubber look scary in the water; these guys? I got nuthin’.
If you’re looking
for shark thrills, find yourself a copy of “Deep Blue Sea” or “47 Metres
Down”. Hell, dial up “Open Water” if you must and you simply can’t
find a copy of “Jaws” anywhere. Or try this: cut out a few pictures of
sharks from a magazine and pin them to the wall – like this film, it's as close
as you’ll get to shark wallpaper.
One-and-a-half
Tentacled Horrors.
