First off, let me tell you this about Alexandre Aja's Piranha: seeing it in 2D isn't really seeing it. The piranhas are much less lively, the puke and buckshot thrown in your face lack relevance and the naked underwater ballet loses much of its impact on account of the flattening of curves. The truth is that the arduous transition back to the original two dimensions of filmmaking is a necessary blowback to the successful use of the 3D technology during shooting. And it is the burden of all films shot in 3D since these films contain many artificially textured elements while also using a seemingly expended depth of field to create effects that tend to lose all meaning once our depth perception comes back to normal. For example, a shot containing only one piranha swimming in the forefront of the frame can be impressive when you see it in 3D because the creature will appear to graze you, but the same shot is relatively boring and useless when seen in plain 2D, given the distance that now separates you from the mosnter. The same is true for all shots containing elements thrown from the background to the foreground of the frame such as puke regurgitated overboard, a shotgun shell splitting into pellets, a beer glass thrown at a Pixies shirt or a severed penis burped out by a piranha, all elements which come to lose their apparent velocity in space and sudden proximity to the viewer once in 2D, failing to truly involve you and thus losing their shock value. All these things are still fun to watch, but the experience thereof is much lessened by the transition and I'm sure you will automatically make a comparison unfavorable to the DVD if you've seen both versions. Personally, I congratulate myself for having bought a ticket while the 3D version was still in theaters. It is that version, and that version only which I continue to cherish in my mind. Unfortunately for those who haven't had the chance to buy a ticket like I did, I'm sorry to have to tell you that you've missed your chance to see a surprisingly great horror film in the way it makes sense. To further put salt on the wound, I will admit that the film's use of the third dimension is the best I've ever seen, especially considering the naked underwater ballet, which turns out to be surprisingly underwhelming in the 2D version as the streaks of light now fail to highlight the lovely curves of the two babes wearing only flippers and their divinely graceful movement in space loses its fluidity. Let this be a lesson to all: if there's a 3D film that you really want to see, pay the price instead of complaining for this might be your only chance to really appreciate it.
If this baby grazed you, you'd be shitting your pants
The story of Piranha is set in Lake Victoria (located in Southern USA), where one species of fish is discovered that will have equally devastating effects on the world as the Nile Perch. The main plot focuses on the Forester family (single mom Julie, teenager Jake and the two kids, Laura and Zane) who must all deal in their own ways with a ruthless attack by prehistoric piranhas unearthed from an underground lake when Richard Dreyfuss dropped a beer bottle to the bottom of a crevasse dedicated to Mesolithic digging. Now this wouldn't be so bad, a massive flock of flesh-eating fishes invading the lake, except that when it does is smack in the middle of spring break during which another invasion takes place, that of city jocks coming down to party by the beach. Right after Dreyfuss is munched to death, using the last of his strength to raise a mangled hand above the water (and showcase the great quality of the special effects), we are quickly, but efficiently introduced to all the important characters. Julie (Elisabeth Shue) is the though town sheriff enforcing the law with an iron fist in a velvet glove. When we first meet her, she is writing a ticket to a party dude who destroyed a post with his car. As the dude complains, like a whiny bitch I must add, she suggests that he just take the ticket, else she might take out the breathalyzer and have him jailed. And that's as far as her sense of humor goes for when the dude starts getting a bit too friendly, she grabs him in a nice hammerlock and whips out a nasty-looking taser to discourage any reckless bystander from getting involved in the arrest. Meanwhile, all the way across town, her son Jake (Steven R. McQueen, grandson of you know who and stepson of hockey hall of famer Luc Robitaille (!)) fails to show the same bravery and self-confidence when he randomly meets love interest Kelly (Jessica Szohr) while on his way to pick up his sister. After a very short, jittery exchange during which we take a definite clue as to their puppy love, Jake loses Kelly to a bunch of silly-looking surfer types in a silly-looking dune buggy who also throw a glass full of beer at his shirt. Luckily for Jake, things quickly take a turn for the best as he finds his sister Laura (Brooklynn Proulx) chatting with attractive British "wild girl" Danni (shapely Kelly Brook) who happens to be waiting for coked-up "girls gone wild" film director Derrick Jones (Jerry O'Connell). When the guy shows up, he instantly summarizes all of the flamboyant overacting techniques that will come to characterize him throughout the film (super-speedy flow, manic jitter, ample gestures and carefully choreographed warmth). And conveniently enough, this Derrick character is in desperate need of a "local" to show him and his girls the way around the lake for a shoot scheduled for the following day, selecting bystander Jake as "his man" for the job. The young man takes but a glance at Danni's warm smile and becomes wholeheartedly convinced to come along, as any guy would be. Given this divine opportunity, Jake thus finds a way to evade his babysitting duties by bribing his younger brother and sister, then elopes to Derrick's boat on the following day, where he eventually becomes stranded with a token cameraman, love interest Kelly, two bombshells (Brook + porn star Riley Steele) and the increasingly aggressive Derrick. During this time, his mom is busy trying to solve the mystery of the prehistoric piranhas while young Paula and Zane find a way to get trapped on an island separated from land by a thin, piranha-filled strip of water. When the family comes together again, it will be in dire circumstances. Oh yeah, and there's also a bunch of partying teenagers near the beach. Anybody said "fish food"?
The increased budget of this remake allows for far
superior depictions of fish food
Yes, you read that correctly: the film showcases a huge underground lake containing lively prehistoric piranhas which are awakened by one of Richard Dreyfuss' beer bottles. Well, it isn't Richard Dreyfuss per se but an expandable character he portrays, the first victim, but also the first wink flashed at us by the production team. Actually both his cameo and the premise involving an earth-shattering beer bottle are winks directed squarely at film critics who have had their fill of dead-serious horror films that forgot how to be fun. This film however, is pure camp, but it is willfully assumed camp. And there's no better way to sell you a narrative wherein beach bunnies are attacked by piranhas. By realizing this simple fact, the production team demonstrates a rare virtue amongst contemporary genre filmmakers from Hollywood, self-awareness. This is a cardinal virtue for any horror filmmaker working in the present era of mindless plagiarism (read "endless multiplication of remakes and sequels") and here, it fuels the film more than adequately for its 200 mph race to the finish (which is a great, campy cliffhanger, one even superior to that in Joe Dante's version). Seeing how their basic idea was ludicrously far-fectched, Aja and crew decided to go all out and craft a completely over-the-top film, allowing their ludicrous working material to make perfect sense while completely fulfilling its viewers in the process. The showmanship necessary to sell you beach-busting piranhas thus finds its reflection in the showmanship demonstrated across the board and which materializes in the top-notch casting and rare sense of spectacle deriving from the ample showcasing of nudity and gore.
Aside from Dreyfuss, one of the survivor of Jaws (1975), whom is killed in the very first scene (thus establishing the Piranhas' superiority to the outdated great white shark), the film contains many other savvy casting choices. As far as overacting goes, there are lots of specialists here, most notably the always reliable fan favorite Christopher Lloyd who gives the old "Doc Brown" routine a new life and the manic Eli Roth, armed here with two super-soakers to squirt water at girls' tits while enumerating an impressive array of synonyms for breasts. Roth's character, the host of a wet t-shirt competition set on a huge raft filled with girls, along with Jerry O'Connell's Derrick Jones are both shockingly exacerbated machos who get more than their rightful retribution for disrespecting women once the action starts. These two despicable, unsympathetic individuals make for very enjoyable kills and this is due in great part to the quality of their characterization. Actually, every character here is cast with great flair. Elisabeth Shue, who still looks fine in a beige deputy uniform, makes for an empathic heroine while Ving Rhames is, as usual, the perfect bad-ass. Kelly Brook (FHM's sexiest woman of 2005, if such references can enlighten you) is obviously ideal casting as the sympathetic wild girl, especially since she agreed to shed all of her clothes for the film. As for the remaining cast, you will note that Jessica Szohr plays here what is essentially a version of Vanessa from Gossip Girls, allowing the young actress to remain in a certain comfort zone while providing the necessary amount of puke to earn her rightful place in the film. As for Steven McQueen, well, he is Steve McQueen's grandson! What more do you want? Casting-wise, the only problem for me was the untimely death of Dina Meyer's character. Maybe it's just the trivial fact that I saw Starship Troopers on the night I first saw Piranha, but damn, I hate to see the girl die! She's great! Why does she have to suffer so unjustly (1) all the time? Here, she is part of a scientific team meant to explore the underwater lake opened by the accidental rift from the first scene. This team is decimated in a matter of minutes, but not without first allowing us a trip down to an impressive underwater cave filled with bunches of translucent red globes containing the living embryos of piranhas. Eventually, Dina's death is narratively relevant for there's a piranha still munching on her flesh when her mangled body is hauled onboard by the protagonists, a piranha that will remain the protagonists' captive until it is dropped into one of the large tanks in Christopher Lloyd's impressive aquarium. Thus, poor Dina is nothing more than piranha bait. And that's a real shame...
Piranha boasts one of the most spectacular cast ever assembled
Since Piranha is a loud celebration of genre film as spectacle, the brilliant casting extends also t0 the attractive extras filling the background with their ample curves and hard muscles. Their flesh bears the double function of enticing viewers with its youthful perfection while also disgusting them with its eventual massacre. These extras are an integrant part of the film's efficiency deriving from its careful observance of the simple mathematics central to American horror. The main operation is obvious: you take a generic, immediately intelligible narrative framework, then add gore and nudity to the mix. Here, it is achieved through the successful mix of the conventional family drama with girls gone wild and over-the-top gore, all three elements brought to their wildest extremities. Hence, we get to see nice-looking, half-naked youths in bathing suits, but we also get to marvel at full frontal female nudity (which is a nice change of pace from Hollywood's recent obsession with revealing penises), Dantesque depictions of suffering and one dramatic tableau that's sure to bring families together: a mother and her two small children, all dangling on a wire above a rock-spiked, piranha-filled lake shore. Everything here is exacerbated just the way it should be. You can thus appreciate the fact that most girls who die don't do so until they have shown their breasts. Two cases in point: the topless gliding girl, whom we get to see from every possible angle before she is half-eaten upon touching the infested waters and the sawed-off girl whom is cut lengthwise by a flying wire to have her top fall off first , and then, her body split in two. Exacerbated also are the character types. In diametral opposition within the narrative are the wholesome, naive townsfolk from Spielbergian films and the obnoxious, uncaring outsiders who pollute the lake with garbage without the slightest afterthought. Smack in the middle of these opposite character types is gorgeous Danni, the sympathetic wild girl, who is first blessed with unforeseen refinement precisely because of her belonging to both groups but then revealed to be merely instrumental to the plot. All this polarization might seem almost Manichean, but it works superbly here. You see, the bimbos and buff dudes gathered together on the beach to listen to annoying dance music and bask in their awesomeness are exactly what they have made themselves to be, namely meat jiggling about for the first predator around to bite into. Now, whereas the original Piranhas attacked mostly sympathetic characters, most notably young campers (including the protagonist's daughter), this new version shows almost only rich, obnoxious teenagers biting the big one. The focus thus shifts away from terror toward pure spectacle. The attacks on humans are not meant to create affect anymore, they're now merely a celebration of death and mayhem. The truth is, such humans can't possibly create affect. They're merely objects for the look and by the time they get shredded to bits, they have outlived their usefulness. We have taken a good look at their half-naked beach bodies and so their raison d'être has vanished into oblivion. All of this mostly liberates the viewer from moral concerns and lets him enjoy the superior special effects fully. With its exploding heads, maelstroms of fangs, legs eaten to the bone, bodies ripping in half, faces ripped-off, piranhas bursting through half-eaten heads and mangled penises, the film revels in excess, enhancing the specularity of the original and eventually inscribing Aja's name in neon letters within this, the culture of excess, wherein five pounds is not heavy enough for a breast and where a bucket of blood demands another. This is all achieved first and foremost because the makers of this film were thoroughly conscious of what they were doing and how they should proceed to do it. This is not rocket science we're talking about here but rather spectacle, pure spectacle, without any emotional involvement that could disrupt our eager anticipation of blood and flesh.
Unlike Aja's remake of The Hills Have Eyes (1977), this new offering is a re-working of the original from the ground up. You might actually say that it is an entirely original film, sharing with the Roger Corman production only the basic idea of piranhas attacking bathing hotties. The premise is not at all the same, the characters are completely different, the narrative is stand-alone and the piranha attacks are handled in a much more contemporary, more spectacular way. It is only if you look really, really close that you will see small, cosmetic similarities between the two versions. So unlike my review for Aja's The Hills Have Eyes, this one here will not simply direct you to the previous version. Far from it. I am actually very enthusiastic about the film, ever since I walked out of the empty theater where I first saw it, my heart full with content memories of the erotically entwined bodies of Kelly Brook and Riley Steele. To me, all remakes should be done like Piranha was, by using the basic idea but injecting a more contemporary narrative around it and enhancing the wow factor. After all, you have to remember that classics never die and that their ghosts will forever haunt those who try to rip them off. And thus every remake, and every literary adaptation for that matter, will automatically force comparison with the source material, usually pushing viewers to concede superiority to whatever came first. There are not many exceptions to this. David Cronenberg's remake of The Fly (1986) immediately comes to mind, but then you start scratching your head trying to think of more. And although the new Piranha isn't head and shoulders above the original, I would grant it a slight edge considering the sheer scope of the spectacle contained within. Thankfully, the superior budget is invested directly in fan service. The viewer literally finds himself amidst a sea of breasts, many of which are fully revealed by a lustful camera managing one of the most impressive, and unlikely exploit ever caught on film: capturing the erotic ballet performed underwater by two stunning beauties wearing only flippers. Then, there are the magnified sets wherein the magnified piranha attacks take place. Both the sets and the depiction of mangled bodies are incredibly elaborate, making for one truly epic scene of carnage taking place near the beach where the partying teenagers have amassed in a large fleet of boats and rubber trips. The state-of-the-art CGI effects allow the creation of truly effective, surprisingly lifelike piranha attacks, which the sound now nicely complements (unlike in the original film). And although the climactic finale is slightly derivative of the original, it is far superior in terms of excitement. The tension is palpable now as Jake throws himself in the water to save Kelly trapped in a sinking boat. Seeing how the piranhas can rip entire people to shreds in a matter of instants, every second passed underwater adds to the excruciatingly unnerving experience we share with the two young people. As for the propane gas explosion they narrowly avoid, this is pure A action film stuff. What's even more impressive than all these exhilarating action bits is that the film even manages to add some neat technical novelties in order to better frame them, such as the half-submerged frame wherein you see both the panicking protagonists in the upper half and the incoming piranhas in the lower half. This creates unfathomable tension while keeping everything within a single frame, thus illustrating just how efficient and generous with scares the filmmaking here truly is.
The increased budget allows the creation of epic scenes of carnage
With this film, Aja and crew give us a lesson in genre filmmaking for the dawning decade. They don't waste time coming up with a plausible premise, simply using a spectacular one instead and buttering it with many layers of campy characters and dialogues. And if the campiness of the film is a crucial indicator of its efficiency, it is precisely because the evolution of the genre pertains only to the cultivation of excess and the subsequent excision of morality. Hence, Piranha is to horror films what Crank (2006) was to action films. Both films are self-conscious exercises in genre purification and the glorification of mindless but sensually effective filmmaking. Both use ludicrously far-fetched premises to anchor the narrative in a logic-defying world of fantastic excitement. Both have fully embraced their purely entertaining nature, not merely grazed it with the tip of their fingers. Both understand what they are and use this knowledge in order to transcend the shackles of realism and plausibility which are dragging down fine series of pulp fantasy such as the Batman and James Bond series straight into the pit of self-satisfied overwriting and toward the realm of unfathomable and excruciating boredom. Concerning the new Nolan-directed Batman and its recent announcing of Anne Hathaway as the umpteenth iteration of Catwoman, I will say this: although there's little that sounds more appealing to me than the idea of Hathaway in any sort of cat-inspired attire, I will definitely not suffer 2+ hours of smutty, boring material just to get a few glimpses at her. I would rather rent Love and Other Drugs (2010) instead, which should tell you a lot about what I think of the current trend of gritty reboots. As for Aja's Piranha, it is for me a beacon of hope in an otherwise dark and dreary world that lets me believe in the liveliness of fantasy in cinema and the ability of Haute Tension's director to transcend the rigid framework he has had to work with since Hollywood absorbed him.
3/5 A truly spectacular, stand-alone remake.
(1) [contains spoilers] In the Saw series, poor Dina is strapped in a cruelly inescapable trap that she manages to solve only to die in the following moments. Even worst is how she is sacrificed in Paul Verhoeven's Starship Troopers. Despite being one of the two leads, her character is killed immediately after having sex with Casper Van Dien's Rico, being effectively removed from the narrative in order to eliminate any moral dilemma pertaining to Rico courtship of Denise Richards' Carmen. And when I say 'sex', I mean a 20-minutes quickie in a tent on a hostile planet full of giant bugs. Never, ever was I so pissed off by the death of a character, especially since she dies of a real cheap shot from behind. And now I've got to see her getting shred to bits by piranhas? Hell no! Honestly, I'm now one step away from creating the "Stop killing Dina Meyer" foundation...
