47 Meters Down

Okay kids, time for another "Review As It Happens." This time out, it's Shorty Heaven Peters Abound Forty Seven Meters Down,.

Great. Someone drops their cell phone case and lit cigarette into the pool and tries to pass it off as an opening sequence.

And for some reason, the spilled Bloody Mary in the water spells out In The Deep. What, did Quentin Tarantino take over in post?

Okay, we've got an insecure, recently dumped brunette and a party-crazy blonde in Mexico. Who's going to die first? And who will remain to be sold into sex slavery by a Tijuana drug cartel?

Oh god I fucking hate this music. What is the proper name of the genre to which this stale, unimaginative, recycled synth shit is officially categorized under? Electronic Bubble Gum? Loser Jazz?

"Does my butt look okay?"

Okay, chicks meet hot Mexican guys, they make a diving date, you're pretty sure at this point that you've nailed Mandy Moore as the sole survivor because she doesn't kiss her date goodnight. But then, last minute tongue action! Mandy body slams the Mucho Macho Muchacho and rams her ovipositor down his esophagus! All bets are off!

Now it's the next day, and Mandy once again appears to be the chosen final girl as she frets over the shark infested waters and tells her blond friend how stupid and unsafe this is. Blond honey badger girl don't give a shit. Eye roll "like omg who cares about getting killed, Debbie?"

Oh god it's Matthew Modine and his weird face. Hey Matt, remember when I suggested Married To The Mob 2: Electric Boogaloo as your comeback vehicle and you blocked me? Shoulda taken my advice, home slice.

And our cast can't out-act a bucket of chum.

"Fish heads, fish heads,
roly-poly fish heads.
Fish heads, fish heads, 
eat them up, yum!"

Oh wow, we're in the ocean! And there's fish! Neato! Hey, lets go find Nemo and Dory!  But first, let me drop this borrowed digital camera straight down into a sharks mouth!

And we have our title! The winchy-thingy snaps, the cage plummets and the girls go screaming down into the darkness which is a whopping 47 meters deep! And all of the heavy stuff falls right on top of their shark cage, trapping them inside! And there's blood in the water and Mandy is hyperventilating and there's no sign of Spongebob anywhere! This totally blows, you guys!

Emaciated blond squeezes her way through cage bars and attempts to clear the debris away so fatass Mandy can escape. Like they're not both totally stick-thin enough to disappear if they turn profile, right? Matthew Modine demands that Blonde Bitch get back in the cage or he'll play Radiohead's The Bends. At least that's what I think he said.

Forty minutes in. Time to bare our souls to one another about our flaws and screwed up relationships and form a deeper bond as we sit blowing bubbles in the bottom of this fucking cage, waiting for Nacho Libre to save their girl-bait butts.

I'm beginning to suspect that this entire movie was created just so the director could point his camera up at the girls wet-suited, crack-flossing thongs and all of the jiggly white buttock flesh it cannot contain.

Fulci's Zombi 2.

Oxygen, draining! Sharks, hungry! Bars, breaking! Heart pumping determined percussion starts! It's HEROIC SACRIFICE TIME! And I have no idea which girl has just left the cage because this film is darker than a woodchucks asshole! Honey, just follow the glow of your whiteass legs up to the surface.

You know what this film needs? A zombie. I mean, besides Modine.

And the first kill clocks in at the 54 minute mark! And of course, it's a minority! Sharky don't like whitebread.

Okay, I'm pretty sure it's Mandy Moore who is making a swim for it. After all, she got dumped by her boyfriend and has been the voice of reason throughout the whole entire one hour so she has to prove how brave and strong and capable she is so she can return to the beach next summer for the sequel with total amped up feminine fearlessness! Right?

You're gonna need a bigger butt.

Who the fuck uses Home Depot hemp rope to pull a one ton cage up through the fucking ocean? No wonder you're all shark chow, stupid white people.

"Okay, Kate? We can't afford anymore CGI sharks, so we're adding a nitrogen narcosis subplot now. You will soon start hallucinating sharks because it's cheaper. Here are your spare oxygen tanks. Your buttcheeks will also serve as a flotation device."

Peachy. I'm running out of oxygen, I can't reach the spare tank and I've punctured my hand, releasing more blood into the water. What's next? Jeez, why didn't I just pull on a short skirt and some high heels and lose my virginity on the way down here too? Maybe if I ask nice, the shark will put on a hockey mask for the final scene?

The Shallows this ain't. Not even a wading pool.

Hmmm, die from decompression or die by being ripped apart by the razor sharp teeth of a great white shark? Guess which one I'm choosing?

Okay, 5 minutes apparently means 30 seconds when you're underwater. Oh wait, it was all a hallucination? Cop out piece of crap DooDoo Ex Machina BS. What is this, The Descent but with sharks?

Wow, okay, you're gonna end your movie like that? Well fuck you too, movie.