On September 2nd, your worst fear… will surface. Assuming, of course, that your worst fear is sharks. As for myself, my worst fear is someone stabbing me in the eyes, followed closely by killer bees. But if your number one fear is sharks, then you’re in luck — and you’re in 3-D style luck, to boot.
Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you Shark Night 3-D. …Which — words fail me — features sharks. In 3-D. Now, as for me, I’m red-green colorblind, so any 3-D movie is better titled “HEADACHE-INDUCING SMUDGE: THE MOTION PICTURE.” But maybe the rest of you will like this shit, I dunno:
Ah, I love movies about higher education and the kids these days and how the kids then get ripped to shreds by sharks… in 3-D. Still, I do have one or two quibbles about this movie — for example, these:
1) “This is insane! This is a lake!” Shuddup. What are you, like — a professor of science-y… stuff?
2) I hate everything about the guy who says: “Let’s rock it out!” I hope the shark gets him.
3) The girl who screams “Somebody do something!” If I’m ever in a situation like this, I’m going to shout out: “Standing around and panicking does count as doing something, princess!”
And my final quibble can perhaps be expressed by inserting myself into the film, movie-script-style:
Dude number 1: Ohmigod, Gary just got mauled by a shark!
Chick number 1: The black guy! His major character trait is that he enjoys water-skiing?!
Me: Ohhhh… …Gary. Right.
Chick number 2: We’ve got to get off this island!
Dude 1: She’s right! We gotta roll right now.
Chick 1: …
Dude 1: …
Me: No, really, why?
Chick 2: Well, I’m out of tampons…
Dude 1: The beer supply is dangerously low.
Me: Leaving the island is the dumbest thing that we could do.
Dude 1: Bro, we gotta roll right now.
Me: Hi? Hello. Sharks have this one major weakness. It’s called land. We should stay on Shark Island or whatever the fuck this place is called. See, if we stay on land, the sharks can’t get us. …See, land is like kryptonite to a shark. It’s their yellow power ring, their Achilles heel, if you will.
Chick 1: Wait! Gary is injured! That’s a plot device that could force us to leave this island.
Chick 2: What?
Me: It’s 2011; we have cell phones. Let’s call for a MedEvac helicopter to get Gary the black dude off the island. And while they’re at it, they can helicopter all the rest of us off the island as well.
Dude 1: Bro, cell phones get terrible reception on Shark Island for some unclearly defined reason.
Chick 1: Yah, duh. Everyone knows that.
Me: I hate that I went on vacation with you people.
…And so on. Anyway, it’s clear who we’re rooting for here: the shark. Who could blame a shark for mauling these wine-coolered, Business-majoring bros and bro-ettes? No one; that’s who. And why blame the shark anyway? Eating people in 3-D is just in its nature. …After all, would you blame the birds for singing? Would you blame the fish for swimming? No. No; you wouldn’t.