Bizarro Moviehouse- As someone who enjoys a shameless, low-budget romp through schlock I expected a number of things from "Sharknado". I wanted flat, static characters. I wanted CGI on par with that Dire Straits video. Most of all, I wanted the gratuitous TV-MA violence.
"Sharknado" did not deliver.
The cast of "Sharknado" is trapped in a tangled web betrayal and intrigue. Every scene is driven by stunning performances and inspired cinematography. Every frame is a masterclass in film-making; a love letter to the craft.
Ian Ziering is a tormented veteran, struggling to come to terms with the blood on his hands after ordering a mortar strike that went tragically astray--hitting an orphanage for the blind instead of a Bombz-N-Things Terrorist Wholesale Store. There are fights and tearful reconciliations aplenty as Ian realizes that his family can never know his pain; that the love his wife and daughter have is for a man that died on that fateful day in Afghanistan. And who was this new man, this Ian Ziering that stared into the abyss and saw something looking back?
As Ian trudges to the liquor store on a stormy night, the wind begins to rise into a roaring tempest.
"That's a goddamn tornado!" shouts a fleeing tourist. "Everyone, get inside!"
Faced once more with the concept of his own mortality and the frailty of flesh, Ian stands idle as the waterspout approaches land.
"Give me one reason," Ian mumbles. "Come on God. You just give me a damn reason I should get out of the way. Who knows? I just might listen."
Ian's cell phone rings. It's his wife.
"Ian!" she cries, the infamous freight train of tornadic winds buffeting against the receiver. "I've been out looking for you for hours! You have to get inside, for the love of God!"
"Why?" Ian replies. "Let's get it all out there. This is the last chance for both of us."
"Because you're worth it, Ian. Because you're worth caring about. Because your daughter is needs her father. You've changed, but I love you."
The phone is sucked out of Ian's hand, which clenches into a fist.
"Time to move."
Ian makes for a nearby storefront, but he has delayed too long. And this is no ordinary tornado. Indeed, it is a Sharknado.
Using his belt to lasso a light post, Ian hangs on desperately as sharks are launched from the funnel--nature's cruel catapult. The fearsome beasts' strength and dexterity are irrelevant here. Sharks slam into parking lots, break against brick walls, and are delivered into power lines for an excruciating demise. For the shark, there is no mercy but death.
As the Sharknado retreats into the clouds, Ian is left kneeling in a street that is red with chum. His wife appears behind him and crouches--her arms circling his neck.
"God," she whispers. "There's so many dead sharks. They didn't even have a chance. What did these animals do to deserve this?"
Ian sighs and grasps her hand. "This godforsaken world of ours, with all its chaos and unchecked power, doesn't give a damn who deserves what. Who's good, who's evil. Who's young and innocent, who's old and cynical. In the end, we're all just sharks in a Sharknado. Let's go home."
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