Over the past several years, a number of filmmakers have embarked on a mission. That mission has been to warn humanity about the way it treats its home. This green realm, this variant sphere, our Earth. From Al Gore and his documentary, I forgot the fucking name, to some crap director who made End of Tomorrow or whatever the hell that shit was called, these filmmakers, nay these artists, have attempted to change the world. Change the world by showing us our folly through our ignorant destruction of the environment and what costs such destruction would reap. But no film, be it a work of fact or fiction, has ever resonated with a more soul-searing scar upon our environmental psyche than Sharknado.
Starting “20 miles off the cost of Mexico” immediately showcases the international significance of this problem. And more, what great work of art does not start with the phrase “off the coast?”
We are introduced to humans at our most evil. As they ruthlessly murder sharks. Why must these sharks pay the ultimate price? For what great benefit to science have our toothy brethren laid down their lives? Well, it was in order to have soup. Tons of dead sharks equal but a few ounces of this soup. What kind of a world puts such a value on soup? Where does soup even truly fit on the dinner scale? I don’t even like the word. Say it aloud: soup. Yuck.
(Editor’s note: If they noticed the script was called Sharknado, they really should not have been dicking around with sharks.)
Not since Deniro and Pacino faced of in Heat has such an powerful confrontation been seen as that betwixt “Captain Santiago” and Random Asian businessman. But that excitement was just to wet your lips for the main course. A tumultuous ravishment of the screen: Sharknado.
When the CGI waves and rubber shark attacked I – I mean, when the whirling funnel of fishy death attacked – my pulse raced to such a level that the veins in my arms exploded like Santiago’s head.
In case you thought the movie was over, for how much more excitement could it contain, we get introduced to a bunch of scantily clad women. The social more related to the treatment of women is touched upon briefly as we get to see a bit of ass crack. Then the star. Ziering.
Ziering’s oeuvre is one that does not even need mentioning due to its cataclysmic impact on the acting community. Suffice it to say, no Ziering, no future Emmy.
Then characters are introduced and, as we get some semblance of backstory, we must all play the game of What Order will These Assholes Die In?
The script crackles with witty and socially relevant dialogue. A viewer has no choice but to be sucked into the “tail” that is being weaved. Such ground breaking sharky lines as, “Hey get out of the water.” “Sharks!!” “Ahhhgleerbleavenieaee,” could only be improved by slow motion camera.
My running thoughts as I enjoyed Sharknado:
- No,don’t run because you see people being eaten; wait until some douche with a bullhorn tells you to run. There you go.
- A montage of makeup on actors lying on the ground alongside jiggling breasts brings us a sense of terror. It makes one ask, what would I do? Would I be a hero? Would I chuck some asshat over a railing for no reason? Would I just not be near the beach because the movie is called Sharknado? Who’s to say? We all must face our demons and breathe in the oniony scent of truth.
- Remember future heroes: To prove that you are worth cheering for, always make jokes about sharks after they kill a shitload of innocent people.
- Hurricane in California? Obviously. Suck it, meteorologists.
- Tara Reid also returns to the screen, but with a twist. She is actually played by a plastic mannequin who looks a little bit like her. And acts almost human. Very impressive.
- Who shed not a tear as the small-town spirit of America was showcased by the bar patrons’ willingness to band together. Another thing about America – all bars are equipped with a mini arsenal.
- The direction, effects, acting, and totality of the object d’art which is Sharknado could be analyzed second by second from now until eternity, but in the interest of time, I shall boil down the rest of this classic film into a few of its most spirit-rending moments.
- “Its just a little wahtah,” said the Californian. Such casting, such depth of character. I quiver, I quake with my love of theater as each syllable dances from the actors’ mouths.
- So you were just driving your car and you locked your dog in it? Ok. A simple mistake and yet it led to the death of the great George. He saved the dog, but at the cost of his own alcoholic life. Weep, my friends, weep for the heroes.
- Skeet sharking from the “stripper friend.” Then we are forced to meet Mr. Khaki. His pants as bland as his acting, he commanded the tense interaction between the former lovers before he fed himself to a shark. No doubt a statement on the trouble all families face with divorce. Sharks eating “new daddy” in the living room. Chances are you or a friend have experienced the same thing. And as the sad blood pooled by his girlfriend’s feet we hear the classic line, “It looks like that time of the month.” What a barb!
- Ziering saves the day and almost dies – but fear not. He doesn’t. It happens again, this time with a school bus, and I guess again…
- (I need to break character for a second. Really? Even the fucking radio voice sucks at acting.)
- Sharknado scoreboard: Hollywood sign: 1; Bus driver: Yeah, you know how many he has.
- Another Sharknado scoreboard: Shotgun: 762 ; Sharks: they have quite a bit as well, I guess.
- “They know what kind of cheese I like. Pepperjack.” Character development gold.
- Lots of cops concerned with traffic laws and yellow tape. Maybe they should kill some sharks. Perhaps another scathing message dropped upon the law of the land and their misuse of resources.
- It’s ok. Our heroes reached safety at the airport. Or did they? For in the distance looms Sharknado.
- Just so you know, in Sharknado if you are in a wide angle shot by yourself, then You. Are. Dead.
- Hey, look one totally unguarded helicopter. Good thing we found this random pilot to go with it. Good things come to the pure hearted. So strive young men and women, strive to achieve goodness, and your proverbial helicopter and pilot will be there for you.
- Plan flaw. Throwing a bomb at a tornado will probably just result in the bomb being thrown away from the tornado. Like everything else is. But that’s fine because F-5 Sharknado winds don’t really impair a helicopter’s ability to fly. At least not if your heart is pure. So don’t be dicks or you’ll die in a Sharknado: that is the religious element of Sharknado.
- Were you looking for complex and depressing family dynamics on SyFy? Well, then you got it in spades during the richly weaved fabric of the Ziering family subplot.
- I won’t tell you my deepest secret. What – we just met and you asked me twice? Well then, fine.
- Also the script writers pay homage to Jaws by shitting on/stealing/creatively changing lines. “Six went into the water; one girl came out. The sharks took the rest.” “We’re gonna need a bigger chopper.”
- But they have their own lines as well. “The sharks took my grandfather. So I really hate sharks.” How can you not connect with that?
- Chainsaw shark, you had a great cameo. We’ll miss you.
- Remember, if ever you are confronted with a huge Sharknado, you should always approach it with an explosive device. Don’t worry, it will be fine. Go Darwin.
- Newscaster shark food, you had a great cameo. We’ll miss you.
- One arm red shirt kid, you had a great cameo. We will also miss you.
- Old man in swimming pool. You’re just stupid. There is a Sharknado. Get out of the pool, jackass.
- Stripper wins for best death. Midair shark meat from a helicopter.
- And how did Ben land the helicopter, you ask? Love of family brought him down safe.
- If only the military knew that small explosives would take out the Sharknado, this whole movie would have been shorter. But then we would never learn our lessons. To fear global warming, school buses, broken families, sharks, and chainsaws. These lessons will bring humanity safely into the future and it is Sharknado that we have to thank for it.
How many stars for this film? Ha. Stars are no means to rate such art as this. Instead, Sharknado receives a grade of ten bloody strippers cut from the stomach of a dead shark out of ten. For that, my friends, is the face of redemption.
P.S. How did he not chop her ass up when he dove through the shark with a running chainsaw? Bah, details. We have all been Zieringed.
Someday we will cast our fortunate eyes to the horizon and see Sharknado 2.