Tuesday, August 24, 2010

"Piranha 3D" (2010)


                      


  Delivering his review of Wes Craven's "New Nightmare" in 1994, the late film critic Gene Siskel expressed his disdain for the film's core, dismissing it as "just an excuse to have the same old blood letting".  Siskel's words - when placed in a certain context - might of course resonate with a review of "Piranha 3D", but where he once found fault is precisely what's to love, and so with some consideration, I'll rephrase the spirit of his lament, by saying that French director Alexandre Aja's exploitative rehash of the 1978 Roger Corman produced "Piranha" is reason, very good reason, to dive into the blood letting.

  "Piranha 3D" works and delivers on two effective levels that create an awesomely nutty communal movie-going experience, one that only be described as either gleefully over-the-top or some of the most hilarious deadpan humor in recent years, or both.  Aja is making a conscious effort to evoke response with his blood-spattered ice cream sundae, and much fun is to be had amidst the vast array of "Holy Sh-t" moments the movie throws at high speed.

 The film also understands the more novel origins of 3-D, and here it chooses to make unabashedly gratuitous use of its gimmicky gags, almost as if to poke fun at the fact that they're otherwise needless in the cinema altogether.  One girl has one two many shots of tequila, so naturally we get 3D vomit off the side of a boat.  An obligatory party guy douses us with the foam of a keg.  The women are gorgeous, decadent and free-spirited so 3D full frontal - and rear - nudity is what we get.  It's "Piranha 3D"'s boozy 80's horror/sex comedy allusions like these that are not only refreshing in the context of their usage, but also deepen my appreciation for the movie's ability to value the other films its modeling, rather than mock them with the tired pretense that it's just "so bad it's good".

"Piranha"'s rather apt and clever direction is more concerned with the vapid plights of its pitch perfect cast without relying too much on plot, which is kind of irresistible.  There's Elizabeth Shue as Lake Victoria's rhinoceros-skinned  local sheriff Julie Forester, and the great Ving Rhames as  her equally badass deputy counterpart, Fallon.  The "wild, wild" gratingly sleazy misogynist pornographer Derrick Jones (Jerry O'Connell) seems to be sending up - or paying homage, or doing a variation, take your pick - of the greater portion of O'Connells catalogue of roles as which works just right.  Adam Scott as Novak and Christopher Lloyd as Mr. Goodman who rope in the essence of this slum-show, with the kind of hammy acting Mickey Rourke tried for in "The Expendables" with no supporting beams.  Even Eli Roth steps in with gleefully silly lightness to emcee a wet t-shirt contest.

  Steven R. McQueen is at the center of it all as Jake, and is absolutely lifeless on screen; the movie knows this most of all, and virtually mocks the idea of real acting in a movie about crazed cannibalistic fish invading spring break.  Whether this is intentional to the credit of director Aja or simply happenstance I'm not exactly sure.  One almost feels like Jake's wholesome obliviousness was plucked from someone like Lawrence Monoson's Gary from the 1982 cult film "The Last American Virgin", though with a slightly more slanted edge of amorality.

  "Piranha 3D" places itself at a patient ease with its intoxicating B movie quietude, and does a pretty good job of maintaining a sense of calm before the blood bath ensues.  For a stretch, the hordes of piranhas roaming the depths of Lake Victoria are obviously deadly, but relatively non-threatening; their predatory killing instinct is first revealed in slasher "one-by-one" convention, beginning with Richard Dreyfuss as a man who bears no name, though we understand it's Matt Hooper when he's seen drinking a bottle of Amity Beer.

  Most importantly, "Piranha 3D" knows exactly what it is, and after we've gotten a taste of this town of caricatures - this movie goes for it.


  The crowd of Spring-Breakers remains blissfully naive, hedonistic, and ignorant to their surroundings.  I seriously doubt this was a post 9/11 socio-political commentary, but it very well could have been, sans wet t-shirts, horny co-eds and the incessant pumping of Benny Benassi mixes.  Their hijinks shamelessly set the stage for one of the most fiendishly absurd gorefest massacres put on screen in recent years.  Aja's use of obsessively detailed practical effects in collaboration with Gregory Nicotero and Howard Berger on the multiplying mortal wounds is admirably apt; the scene itself surpassed "Kill Bill Vol. 1"'s record for most gallons of fake blood used in a film, and it makes "Saving Private Ryan" look like "Dora The Explorer".  While that may sound disrespectful and dismissive to the serious attention that World War II movie deserves, it's the same kind of attitude these hapless dimwits would have had toward anything solemn at all.

  And so they die their horrible deaths, and we laugh in shock and awe.

★★★★☆ (4/5)


Cast & Credits

Richard Dreyfuss:  Matt Hooper
Ving Rhames:  Deputy Fallon
Elizabeth Shue:  Julie Forester
Christopher Lloyd:  Mr. Goodman
Eli Roth:   Wet T-Shirt Host
Jerry O'Connell:  Derrick Jones
Steven R. McQueen:  Jake Forester
Jessica Szohr:  Kelly
Kelly Brook:  Danni
Riley Steele:  Crystal
Adam Scott:  Novak
Ricardo Chavira:  Sam
Dina Meyer:  Paula
Paul Scheer:  Andrew
Brooklynn Proulx:  Laura Forester

  The Weinstein Company Presents a film directed by Alexandre Aja.  Running time: 89 minutes.  Rated R (Sequences of strong bloody horror violence and gore, graphic nudity, sexual content, language and some drug use).

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