Alexandre Aja helmed Piranha: 3D and Crawl. Xavier Gens unleashed Under Paris. Now, international gorehound Tommy Wirkola (Dead Snow) hopes to unleash a Category 5 horror storm with Thrash, Netflix’s latest foray into aquatic horror. If we tiered the extreme horror auteurs’ dips into the water, Thrash would unfortunately be at the bottom of the chum bucket. It’s not bad, per se, but Thrash is regularly uninspired. It sinks when it should be swimming through the carnage.
The concept is more than the zeitgeist’s reductive “Crawl but with sharks” reaction suggests, at least. A coastal town is devastated by a horrific hurricane. Opening, expository text frames the subsequent onslaught as part of a series of extreme weather patterns this century, though the environmental nudge is just fluff—Thrash really doesn’t want to make any kind of statement about climate change being the real horror. It just wants a convenient excuse to send a cabal of bull sharks into a flooded town.
Unlike Crawl, which featured Kaya Scodelario in a principally one-woman show, Thrash is largely episodic. After a brief intro, the levy breaks, floods the town, and Thrash thrashes between three different scenarios: Djimon Hounsou’s marine biologist, pregnant Lisa (Phoebe Dynevor), trapped in her Mini Cooper, and a trio of foster kids stranded in their living room.
No one is coming to Thrash for stellar performances, though the sheer talent often buoys the lackluster thematic bearings. Whitney Peak’s Dakota, an agoraphobic young woman whose story intersects with Lisa’s, manages investment despite being saddled with the requisite internal-trauma-matches-the-external-circumstances material. Djimon Hounsou is always welcome, but Thrash doesn’t break the horror trend of positively wasting the Oscar-nominee. He’s severely constrained in terms of screen time, appearing briefly in the opening and finale, and while not as egregious as his role in A Quiet Place Part II, I remain confounded by casting someone of his stature to do nothing.
Everyone is coming for the sharks, though, and there, it’s a bit of a mixed bag. It’s pure exploitation, at least, and Thrash is a throwback to the regressive Grand Guignol sensibilities of Mako: The Jaws of Death and The Last Shark. It’s supremely violent and, refreshingly, clearly staged. They’re obviously CG fish, but when they’re gnawing away at their victims, they look pretty good (just don’t look too close). There’s plenty of blood and gore, and despite a throwaway line from Hounsou about how sharks aren’t the bloodthirsty predators we think they are, Thrash comfortably portrays them as exactly the bloodthirsty predators we think they are.
The gruesomeness is a boon, even if it’s all too slight. Despite Wirkola’s wicked sense of humor, Thrash plays its conceit pretty safe, and that means a dearth of tension when it comes to the body count. Dakota and Lisa, for instance, are never in any real danger, and the trio of foster kids are mostly stagnant, safely secured atop a floating table away from any earnest threat.
The caricaturized foster parents, in it only for the government check, however? Zero points for guessing how long they survive. Wirkola gets to spill some blood, but the carnage lacks teeth. There’s no bite to the tension or thrills since Thrash is too keen on playing it as saccharinely as possible. Even the much-touted hurricane birth is swiftly done away with. John Krasinski managed far more successfully in A Quiet Place, which Thrash is clearly riffing on there.
So, it’s no Piranha 3D. and it’s not even the unhinged shlock of Under Paris (the second most-watched Non-English film on Netflix ever, I might add). It’s C-movie sensibilities, late Roger Corman, with some Netflix polish. Wirkola manages enough blood-letting to maintain interest, and I’m never one to balk at killer sharks. With titles like Beast of War last year, however, it’s too easy to wish for something more. That Aussie indie took a familiar, post-Jaws formula and rendered it fresh again. Thrash already has the subtle stink of chum. It’ll draw you in for a bite, but it’s far short of a full, satisfying meal.
Thrash premieres on Netflix April 10.
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