Trust me, once you go down there...you wouldn't wanna come back up again.

Everybody who grows up in Hawai'i has a shark story. Sure, it was probably a dolphin while you were surfing with your cousin, but it sounds way f--king cooler if it was a shark.

I guess I should have started this post with the word almost, because despite growing up in the middle of the Pacific, I routinely found myself in the middle of a movie theater. But one with a great view of the ocean. 

Turns out I don't have a shark story, let alone a good one, unless I tell you about that time Samuel L. Jackson got eaten by a great white mid-f--king sentence! Or when that lady from Open Water was totally naked for absolutely no reason.

(Sorry, I don't watch a lot of shark movies)

And after catching 47 Meters Down on Netflix with my wife the other night, safe to say I won't be rushing out (or in) to see anymore. While The Shallows [easily one of my favorite reviews] was f--king awesome a few summers back, Mandy Moore vs. a Shark is anything but. Good thing, like an actual shark attack, it's all over faster than you can yell Barracuda!

When we meet Lisa, the tall one (Moore), she has just been dumped by her boyfriend. Fiancee? Tennis Instructor? F--k, I don't know, someone she was previously in a relationship with. Apparently, she never let her hair down (anybody?), and homeboy had to cut her loose. So instead of non-alcoholic margaritas and super-protected missionary, this Mexican getaway is gonna be a pity party.

Filling in for the guy is Kate, Lisa's flirty younger sister. While Lisa is looking to wallow, Kate's looking to swallow. Sea water, you silly goose.

Anyway, after meeting two dudes who look like they might cut out your organs while you're sleeping, Kate plays the be a little adventurous card to Lisa, and basically double-dares her to go shark-diving with the fellas. What's a boring, overly-cautious, perpetual party-pooper gonna do? Well, like me pressing play on 47 Meters Down, something woefully against her better judgement.


The operation responsible for this ill-fated dive is captained by none other than Matthew Modine, who looks like all his seafaring experience came while he was the assistant manager of a Long John Silver's. Still, Lisa refuses to be boring any longer, and after lying about knowing dick about breathing underwater, jumps in a rickety shark cage with her sister. And that's when everything goes... exactly as planned.

What's worse? Having the light and drawing attention to yourself...or not having the light, and being unable to see the shark.
It probably doesn't matter if I'm filling the ocean with gallons of urine, but still.

Yep. They see a couple of sharks, snap a few selfies, head up to the boat and have the wildest orgy ever put to film. At least I think they did...but I've been hallucinating a lot lately. I'm not even sure where I am anymore...

Speaking of shitty ways to end something, here are the Yays and Boos. We're in for a tough stretch here at Two Dollar Cinema, so bear with us if the cheers and jeers are extra indecipherable.

Moore and Claire Holt, reviewing my 'watched' list on Netflix.

Yaaaaaay!

• Typically, poorly-built items aren't anything to be excited about. But...when the item in question is a rickety-ass shark cage? Start the slow clap now.
• Sub 6-million dollar budget be damned, there's a pretty nice documentary vibe to the visuals here.
• Watching someone drop a camera two seconds after they borrow it is funny. Watching that same camera being eaten by a shark two seconds after that? Hilarious! (and is this something that sharks naturally do, voraciously eat electronics?)
• Like most movie sharks, thankfully, these f--kers are rather determined a-holes. 
• Speaking of sharks with(out) frickin' laser beams on their heads, I have to applaud the insane speed which these bastards devour hapless jerks. I'm pretty sure that Final Destination bus is the only thing I've ever seen move faster.
• And finally, even though part of me dies every time she does it, my wife, once again, called the ending. But the jokes on her, right? Where'd that keen eye for detail get her? Mmm hmm. Married to a clueless jerk like me. 

Better get used to these bars, kid...

Booooooooooo!

• What are the odds that a movie about a gigantic predator relentlessly harassing pretty young women in a confined space was a Harvey Weinstein production? *shudder*
• Aw, Lisa got dumped by some dude named Stewart. That sucks. What are we gonna do now? Oh, right. Dance in slow-motion with our hands over our heads to music we've never heard of.
• Handsome or not, I meet two herbs that immediately suggest we go diving for sharks and I'm thinking no thanks, pendejo.
• In my experience, if someone is hyperventilating at the mere thought of the activity where the oxygen supply isn't f--king infinite, that might be a bit of a red flag. 
• Dammit, we need these rocks moved now! Where's Rey when you need her?
• I'm sorry, and I know I've said it before, but in moments of utter f--king life-or-death chaos, can we cut the shit with all these heart-to-hearts? Please? If a dinosaur was about to eat my balls, this is not the moment where I'm going to tell my wife I've always loved her. I'm going to tell her to get the f--k out of here and assume she'll make up the loving words I whispered to her before I was skullf--ked by a velociraptor. I'm pretty sure that's what true love is, anyway.
• There's a point where the tension is too damn thick. We've got sharks. We've got the bends. We've got Mandy Moore's incessant whining. Is the chum bucket empty? I wanna bury my head in it.
• Someone says the shark almost got me in the same manner you or I might say there's no lemon in my water. Maybe dial up the emotion a bit, perhaps?
• Oh God, that bit with the speargun. F--k that!!
• It's actually awesome, but can you imagine, whilst swimming away from nature's perfect killing machine, you are 900% required to take a five-minute break half-way through? That's f--king terrible. And rad as f--k.
• And finally, that ending my wife called? Boooo on that shit! Maybe it's a bit clever, if you insist. But it's also cheap as f--k. Combining the whole M. Night Sharkylam style resolution with the impossibly pathetic fact that I was kind of/totally falling asleep during the f--king shark attacks... I was dumbfounded, to say the least.

Whenever the Hell this film was released theatrically, I vividly recall that my wife -the woman that I love more than anything- suggested that we catch this one in the theater. Wait, what? Pay actual currency to go see the Mandy Moore shark movie? Um...I guess? 

Let me be honest. I never say no to a movie. Or to the woman in my life.

Even if she says she wants to go to Mexico and swim with some f--king sharks. I would have her back in a heartbeat.

I mean, of course she can go. I'll stay at home with the kids. Maybe even take them to a movie...

Happy Valentine's Day!