This film is a masterpiece. In its genre (the genre of bad, terribly bad films, without any justification) the new Netflix eco-horror risks being remembered as a giant, an example for the filmmakers to follow, directors, producers, screenwriters. And I don’t care if I risk spoiling parts of the plot (Spoilers will follow), this is not a Scandinavian mystery or a horror with some intellectual twist at the end. It is the film with which Netflix forcefully enters the world of C-series cinema and television exploitation stupidest of the twenty-first century.
From the trailer and from the few written notes it was clear that we would have to deal with a ferocious shark that sailed up the Seine and snuck into the catacombs of the capital of our nice (distant) cousins. And so far everything is ok. Sunday evening, we risk seeing a mess. Sometimes you get just the last bits of rest before starting the week again the next morning. A laugh and off to bed. Then in the afternoon, passing in front of the cinema near my house, I remembered the existence of the new exorcism-themed horror film with Russell Crowe, a tasty loaf. My wife and I are both horror fans, then maybe everyone has their favorite genres, but we both like the one about exorcisms. Except that there were only screenings left at ten forty in the evening and I sleep at that time. Then we had to look for something to watch at home. My wife loves the shark menu. Actually less so, I don’t even remember when (or maybe if) I saw it Jaws, you’ll excuse me, but a shark trapped in the catacombs does a lot on Sunday evening. Then the viewing begins.
It starts with sharks massacring an expedition of scientists in the middle of the continent of plastic floating off the Pacific coast, a second after they were able to realize that that shark was perhaps changing. The survivor, played by Bérénice Bejowho I remembered as a darling of cinema which I like, having returned to Paris with her beautiful trauma, she is contacted by a movement of environmentalist kids who, like her, want to save the oceans and in particular the sharks and who warn her of the presence of that very shark, a female, right there, in the waters ( low) of the Seine. Obstacle: the police incredulity of the incredibly masculine Parisian river police, intent on clearing the seabed of unexploded ordnance, bringing basic necessities to the homeless and organizing triathlon races. And so far everything is ok.
It therefore happens that, while the scientist and the muscular policeman try to ascertain the real presence of the gigantic shark with the aim of saving lives, including her own, the beardless ecologists instead believe that sharks cannot harm anyone, they bombard on social media the Parisian population, particularly attentive to the issue, and they work hard to save the squalessa themselves by taking her back to the ocean. As? It is not understandable, but so far everything is ok.
So in short, to recap: an ecological movement lures a female mutant killer shark into a catacomb in the Paris underground to free it, they discover to their surprise that there are more than one shark, there is also a cute little puppy with very sharp teeth, and so a massacre begins in which sharks mercilessly tear apart beardless ecologists, river policemen who arrive to save them and anyone who cannot walk on a sidewalk without falling into water. And so far, despite everything, still ok. Because it is in the second part of the film that the plot takes off to levels of unconscious, unprecedented and in some ways brilliant madness.
To put it simply, it has to do with the discovery of having to deal with a mutation of squalesse which have also adapted to fresh water and which reproduce by parthenogenesis and which for this reason risk conquering all the waters of the globe. It involves a mayor who does not intend to give up the showcase of the triathlon race (huh???) in the Seine, for which she expects an audience of “a thousand people” (I live in a small town of less than three thousand souls and when there is the pumpkin festival that level of turnout is easily achieved). Triathlon which seems like a great opportunity for Paris, rather than the football world cup. You can’t stop a triathlon for a shark, no, you don’t need a degree in political science to understand that. It has to do with the fact that the river police are accused, perhaps not so ungenerously, of the massacre, promptly covered up by the mayor’s social manager, and are ousted in favor of the army, to guarantee the safety of the demonstration. The plan of the scientist and the disgraced policemen has something to do with it: blow up the catacombs under Paris to stop the invasion and avoid the massacre, regardless of what it means to explode catacombs in the city. It involves two soldiers who appeared like this, as needed, who evidently don’t have to account to anyone even for what they do with the explosives. It has to do with the plan failing, the shark escapes, starts slaughtering swimmers and all those who fall into the water due to lack of balance (a plague, this one), a mess of people. All this while TV journalists from all over the world document the massacre live for viewers, presumably many, who were instead glued to the screens for a triathlon. It has to do with the fact that the army fires weapons of war, that the shark escapes by moving the seabed and thus triggering devices that have been there, unexploded, since the world conflict, which all explode together. It has to do with the fact that the explosion causes a tsunami, I swear, and the tsunami is the complete inundation of Paris, which thus finds itself covered in water at least up to the first floor of the houses, with the Seine evidently suddenly having the flow rate of Nile in its golden days, before the cataracts and dams.
With the final image, after a triumph of coherence and verisimilitude, of the beautiful scientist and her trusted muscular river policeman, taking refuge on the roof of a newsstand and surrounded by water and the fins of dozens of sharks, this exceptional film ends . So bad, absurd, rambling and no half measures (but be careful, it’s not a comedy, at least not intentionally) that it goes around and becomes a masterpiece trashy. You absolutely have to see it, I promise it’s fun in the end. From the credits we understand that the sharks then took control of London too. I don’t think any further comment is needed from me. Then it seems that the idea (and what an idea…) of Under Paris it was even stolen and there is a trial underway. And it seems that the director has already started talking about a sequel. Prepare the popcorn. The creators of Sharknado they are warned. (Lorenzo Centini)
PS: but then in reality throughout the entire viewing, and even now, the next day, in the end I can’t stop wondering who is interested in triathlon…
