Perhaps because of our dependence on sight to warn us of oncoming danger, humans have an elemental fear of the obscured; you may have overcome your anxieties about what lives underwater and of the dark separately, but if you think you're over it, I invite you to take a nice night swim in a lake. Guaranteed, you will be uncomfortable. In cinematic history, there's probably no more effective harness of that instinct than the first scene of Jaws, and while Shark Night 3D does indeed pay homage to that scene, it's also obligated to differentiate itself from Jaws in some way, a feat it accomplishes with MORE HORROR. Could there be a deranged serial killer in some way involved with our shark movie? Yes, Shark Night assures us. Yes there can.
It's sort of disheartening, in this supposedly sexually liberated, feminist age, that we're still so slavishly willing to roll with that hoary old horror trope of equating sexual promiscuity with horrific dismemberment, but apparently we are -- you pretty much know right when the two girls take their shirts off that they will later be eaten. But let's skip over the prelude of hedonism right to exactly 45 seconds in, when a scary hollow noise lets us know that our carefree weekend is about to get shat all over by something scary, because that's when the shit gets truly ridiculous.
First of all, did the fucking black guy seriously just die first? Yes he did, so we can conclude that this flick will either be stiflingly self-aware or lack any self-awareness whatsoever (I'm guessing the latter). Also, how is there a shark in a lake? Oh, because it's a... um... salt-water lake, you know? And how did the sharks get into the lake. What if somebody put them there? OMG!
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Okay, that makes sense, because it's some kind of sick game. To what end? I don't really know, but I'm probably going to take a pass on finding out.