‘Into the Deep’ Review: Earnest Shark Action Despite its Flaws
I love shark movies. I especially love bad shark movies. Those toothy B-movies that cut straight to the bone with bonkers gore and incredulously conceived sharks—ghost sharks and Christmas sharks galore! Not to sound pessimistic, but in a post-Jaws world, we have decades of evidence to sufficiently prove that nothing is going to top Spielberg’s monumental achievement. Every other shark will simply be swimming in its wake. Contemporary filmmakers dabble in chum pretty regularly, though the results are hardly surprising. There’s an odd seriousness, a straight-faced play with many recent killer shark flicks that deprive the subgenre of what should be some undersea fun. Christian Sesma’s Into the Deep’s crimson bubbles are familiar, and unfortunately too serious, though this one earns its earnestness more than the rest of the pack.
Strange as it might sound, Into the Deep is the Texas Chainsaw 3D of killer shark flicks. In a prelude to the horrors to come, Cassidy (Scout Taylor-Compton, Halloween) watches as her father is viciously devoured by a killer great white off the coast of Australia near the oceanic Indonesian border. Regular flashbacks account for Richard Dreyfuss’ (Jaws, naturally) brief role as Cassidy’s maternal grandfather, a deep sea extraordinaire desperate to help Cassidy overcome her fear of the open ocean.
It’s all very Hallmark, saccharine oodles where a shark swallowing a man whole should be. Into the Deep probes deeper into Cassidy’s shallow Soul Surfer psyche than it does the sunken treasure chests and pirates that account for the bulk of its action. When the flashbacks recede, Cassidy ventures off into the same waters where her father was killed alongside husband, Gregg (Callum McGowan) and a rotating cast of shark feed.
Into the Deep’s more regressive moments feed the great whites every, well, non-white member of the cast. Indonesian pirates and non-English speaking friends along for the ride are naturally the first to bite it. Their deaths largely amount to computer-generate gore and nebulous plumes of blood in the water, though it’s hard not to zone in on the politics of feeding the great whites mostly minority bit players as Cassidy develops into a kind of shark whisperer.
If the sharks weren’t enough, Cassidy and crew are boarded by Jordan Devane’s (Jon Seda) ragtag band of drug smugglers. Their incentive for seizing the ship is never thoughtfully explained, but it does allow for some karmic, shark-maw justice. Additionally, Sesma frames the more visceral, tactile action well. There are plenty of shootouts and close-quarters knife fights amidst the peeking dorsal fins, and while the deaths might not wow, the bulk of the shark effects do. Up close, they’re digital sludge, but from a distance, their awe and majesty are appropriately conveyed. They really are wonders.
Notably, Into the Deep’s closing credits feature Richard Dreyfuss himself making an urgent plea for shark conservation. Shudder doc Sharksploitation briefly touched on the subject, though was principally concerned with rumor and hearsay. Into the Deep, for all its flaws, does effectively capture what makes sharks such remarkable creatures. While Cassidy’s relationship with them is often incredulous, tethered more to script demands than what a real person should be doing, the sincerity is no less effective. So, while Into the Deep may not be a great killer shark flick, it does emerge from the murky depths in the end to be something even more important: a call to action. Sure, it’s about as shallow a plea as Texas Chainsaw 3D’s Leatherface sympathy, but it’s nonetheless effective. We’re the real killers, and that message stays afloat even when Into the Deep threatens to sink.
Summary
Into the Deep’s pathos stays above water even as redundant killer shark action sinks to the depth.
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