Editorials
Gliding Monsters and Talking Birds: ‘Deep Blue Sea’ Remains a Crowd-Pleaser 25 Years Later
Those of us enamored with shark horror generally accept Jaws as the unrivaled king.
Steven Spielberg’s 1975 classic not only perfects the art of underwater suspense, it expertly blends high seas adventure with family drama and genuine dread. But Spielberg’s masterpiece fails to answer one glaring question: what if sharks were super smart? That’s the premise of Renny Harlin’s 1999 film Deep Blue Sea, a sharksploitation crowd-pleaser that succeeds by fully committing to its outlandish bit. The story follows the crew of Aquatica, a doomed ocean research center torn apart by three massive – and massively intelligent – mako sharks. With all the trappings of 90s slasher fun, the film merges Jaws and Spielberg’s other man vs. nature classic Jurassic Park for an aquatic horror blockbuster that’s aging like a fine blood-red wine spilling into the ocean.
Harlin’s story begins with a near miss kill. Two attractive couples are canoodling on a catamaran when something big bumps them from under the deck. Moments before giant jaws can rip them to shreds, a savior appears with a harpoon gun. Carter Blake (Thomas Jane) is a shark wrangler from nearby Aquatica charged with retrieving one of the escaped test subjects. The facility’s mastermind, Dr. Susan McAlester (Saffron Burrows), has dedicated her life to finding a cure for Alzheimer’s disease and genetically modified three mako sharks. Along with the brilliant, but cavalier Jim Whitlock (Stellan Skarsgård), she’s increased their brain size in order to extract a chemical that can spark cell regeneration in human patients. Unfortunately this controversial program has a nasty side effect: the sharks are now extremely intelligent and have begun conspiring to break their way out. When a high-stakes demonstration goes dreadfully wrong, the makos begin to systematically bring down Aquatica in hopes of killing their captors and escaping into the (wink) deep blue sea.
If you think that premise sounds ridiculous, you’re not alone. But Harlin backs this pseudoscience up with three killer beasts. Achieved through a mix of CGI, animatronics, and real shark footage, these “gliding monsters” stalk the flooded corridors with stealthy silence and a ferocious bite. Harlin fully leans into the villainization by giving these fish the ability to hunt in packs along with a cannibalistic taste for the flesh of other sharks. Like Spielberg’s iconic raptors, they set their sights on the overconfident humans and herd them through the rapidly flooding halls. This predatory trio uses their 8,000+ pound bodies to slam through metal doors and fly out of the water to kill unsuspecting victims. While admittedly preposterous, suspension of belief is par for the course. How does a 45-foot mako swim through a cluttered kitchen? Who cares! We’re completely on board for the sharksploitative fun.
Harlin introduces his killers by brutality and size. An early scene features Carter swimming with a deadly tiger shark that later becomes an onscreen meal. Like Jason decimating a biker gang, these cannibalistic killers quickly demolish a species that rivals the great white for the ocean’s largest threat. To harvest the serum, Susan has created two 26-foot Gen(eration) 1 sharks who themselves have spawned the 45 foot Gen 2. These creatures stalk Carter through a series of reinforced underwater tunnels and nearly manage to break through the walls. With a bit of death-defying deception, the skilled swimmer tranquilizes a Gen 1 and guides it onto an observation platform. Standing next to the gigantic fish, he monitors and soothes as Susan inserts a three-foot needle into its brain. Far from Spielberg’s malfunctioning Bruce, this animatronic creature feels frighteningly real.
In addition to these surprisingly lifelike cartilaginous villains, Deep Blue Sea benefits from an exceptional cast. Jane broods charmingly in a breakout role and ushers us through the film’s second half. Burrows is compelling as a Frankenstein-like anti-hero who brings death to her friends in an ill-conceived attempt to play God. However, compared to Skarsgård’s delightfully reckless and nihilistic Jim, she seems all-but heroic in her noble quest to cure degenerative brain disease. Michael Rapaport and Aida Turturro add spark to the ensemble, but it’s LL Cool J who provides the flame. As an ex-alcoholic reverend-turned-chef called “Preacher,” he warms up the film with canny observations, modified scripture, and a wise-cracking parrot simply named Bird. It’s difficult to talk about Deep Blue Sea in a crowd without someone reciting “You ate my bird,” or launching into a rendition of his beloved single “Deepest Bluest” then affirming that, yes, his hat does indeed look like a shark’s fin.
Samuel L Jackson anchors the film as billionaire benefactor Russell Franklin. Initially maligned as an ignorant “suit.” he quickly emerges as the voice of reason and uses knowledge gained from a previous disaster to pull the frightened survivors together. His reassuring presence and A-list charisma leads to a shocking bait-and-switch and one of the best cinematic deaths in horror history. After delivering a rousing pep-talk tinged with Donner Party-esque lore, Franklin stands next to the wreckage of the facility’s submersible. While ordering them to seal off the open pool, a shark leaps out of the water to bite him in two. The aquatic opening immediately fills with blood and we watch the two Gen 1s chow down on his limbs. This brutal attack hits like a bolt of lightning and sets a horrific tone for the film’s second half. Not only can any one of these characters die, the sharks can still get you even out of the water.
An earlier sequence showcases the bombastic nature of their devious plan and begins the death spiral for this “floating Alcatraz.” While celebrating a successful demonstration, Jim gets too close and falls into the jaws of the ostensibly sleeping shark. Minus one arm, the hemorrhaging scientist soon finds himself strapped to a gurney hanging from an unstable medevac helicopter in the midst of a raging storm. Though the frantic pilots try to haul him onboard, he quickly splashes into the makos’ enclosure. In a clever nod to Jaws, we see the cord pulled from deep below, dragging the helicopter towards Aquatica’s tower in a massive explosion that will burn through the night. Back in the lab, the shocked team stares in horror as a ghostly object approaches the observation window. The Gen 2 hurls Jim and gurney into the reinforced glass which slowly begins to splinter and crack. They rush out of the room as a wall of water flows through the shattered portal. Filmed with the same tanks used for Titanic, the stakes of this scene feel incredibly high. As the ice-cold water pours in by the ton, we fear that the frightened members of this ragtag team are just minutes away from being swept out to sea.
With Aquatica crumbling, there’s little to separate humans and sharks. Submerged hallways provide runway for these apex predators to attack and the fractured team must race to the surface before the facility sinks to the ocean floor. Multiple makos allow ample opportunity for a series of shark showdowns, each more thrilling than the last. Humans are shredded, sharks are burned, and blood fills the water until only three humans remain to square off against the massive Gen 2. In an explosive finale, Susan sacrifices herself to prevent the demonic animal from breaching the outer gates. (The conflicted doctor was originally supposed to survive and conclude the film by sharing an odd-couple kiss with the heroic Carter, but test audiences reportedly demanded accountability for her destructive hubris.) With harpoon assistance from a wounded Preacher, the heroic shark wrangler manages to outswim the maniacal fish who escapes moments before being blown to bits. Our two final boys make exhausted jokes while they collapse on floating rubble as the 90s rap swells and a rescue boat approaches.
With fiery action, breakneck pacing, and a likable cast, Harlin succeeds in pulling off this ridiculous plot. We forget about the thin science and illogical plan and indulge ourselves in a series of increasingly bloody underwater kills. Rather than a tired Jaws rip-off, Deep Blue Sea feels like a culmination of the era’s best horror. At three times the shark peril (four if you’re counting that tasty tiger) and a facility to destroy, it’s a delightful mix of 90s meta-slasher gore, sci-fi isolation, aquatic adventure, and creature feature fun. IMDb currently has it ranked as the #1 shark movie of all time and it’s possible that in another 25 years, this glorious shark-science extravaganza may overtake Spielberg’s heavyweight to become ruler of the cinematic seas.
College kids, strippers and vampires—those were Donald P. Borchers’ only requirements when he approached Richard Wenk about writing and directing a movie for New World Pictures. As requested, Wenk cooked up Vamp (1986), a tailor-made blend of the decade’s teen movie craze as well as its horror boom.
Grim and earnest stories were still very much a part of the ’80s horror landscape, yet Vamp is something of a comedy. One difference between it and, say, Saturday the 14th, though, is the former avoids using schtick. Wenk’s movie proves that horror comedies also don’t have to subtract thrills from their recipes. Of course, it takes a minute before reaching that point; college antics and culture shocks preface this one macabre misadventure.
Vamp‘s initial setup is apt for a typical college-set, sex-driven comedy; to bribe their way into a fraternity house, two pledges (Chris Makepeace, Robert Rusler) go looking for some adult entertainment. Without wasting time on any further exposition, the characters embark on an all-in-one-night trip that quickly detours into terror.
To procure their elusive MacGuffin—a stripper willing to gyrate for some frat boys—Keith (Makepeace) and AJ (Rusler), plus a third wheel named Duncan (Gedee Watanabe), trade the safety of their remote college campus for the seediness of some unnamed city. The setting is recognizably L.A. by day, but as soon as night falls, downtown, along with the characters, slips into a kind of surreal universe. Director of photography Elliot Davis gave this early entry on his prolific résumé an unusual yet distinctive look; that Mario Bava-esque, magenta-green lighting is omnipresent, so much so that it’s almost its own character.
Chris Makepeace and Robert Rusler in Vamp
The faint comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours are merited, although not just because of Vamp’s distinguishing nighttime aesthetic. Save for the primary characters, the supporting roles in Wenk’s movie are also quite colorful and transactional in their behavior. The difference here, though, is the additional urge to ruin Keith and his friends at every turn. Some of that harm is humorous and tolerable enough, whereas the moment Vamp dishes out its first fatality, it’s abundantly clear how this movie qualifies as horror.
Vamp falls into that category of horror movie that reveals its genre with a scream rather than a series of whispers. The opening scene can function as a hint of what lies ahead—things are not at all what they appear to be—but otherwise, Wenk is more than happy to hold off on the horror. When that time does come, though, it catches the viewer off guard. In addition to the pure shock value is that sudden decision to upend the movie’s foremost feature. Or so it would seem.
If afraid of major spoilage, those new to Vamp would be wise to stop reading here. There’s just no skirting around the fact that the central fellowship in this buddy movie hits a serious snag when AJ is killed. That development causes the story to become more of a “long, bad night” journey for Keith and his romantic interest. So while Wenk scores points for subverting expectations, there is also a touch of sadness in his decision. Because if Vamp does anything well, it’s making the characters likable.
Something that comes easily to Vamp—and other teen horror movies from this same era—is its ability to invent young characters worth caring about, or at the very least, are interesting and not so immediately off-putting. More impressive is how Wenk did all this without actually fleshing out those characters. Still and all, Keith and his kind are a grade above cookie-cutter, and in some cases, aren’t completely devoid of growth.
Grace Jones in Vamp
Vamp appeals with an assorted cast of characters. No two are the same, nor are they operating on the same wavelength. The cinematically extroverted AJ, whose actor conveyed charm and vulnerability in near equal amounts, comes alive when he’s at his most undead. Makepeace then makes the chronically cautious Keith a sympathetic fellow, even as he’s more and more affected by the night’s bizarre events. Meanwhile, Duncan is indeed the designated loser of the whole bunch, but Watanabe still manages to humanize him. As a bonus, the role didn’t require him to pull a Long Duk Dong.
As for Dedee Pfeiffer, she is plain adorable as the mysterious After Dark server nicknamed “Amaretto”. She spends all night fixing her dress strap while at the same time trying to get Keith to remember how he knows her. As their offbeat romance grows, it becomes another highlight of this movie. Whether or not Pfeiffer’s character is really a vampire also creates some welcome tension in the story.
Like a lot of its contemporaries, Vamp went on to become a bit of a cult classic. That current status is determined by several factors, but without a doubt, the casting of Grace Jones is the most considerable. The image of her writhing on that unique-looking chair, a Keith Haring original, springs to mind whenever this movie is brought up.
Chris Makepeace, Billy Drago and Paunita Nichols in Vamp
Prior to that first display of unequivocal horror, local vampire queen Katrina (Jones) took to the stage and delivered a strip show like no other. One would expect nothing less from that renowned model and performance artist. By now reports of Jones’ tardiness on set are no secret, yet it’s also hard to deny her commitment to the part of Katrina. It was, in fact, Jones who took charge of her character’s appearance—on top of Haring painting her body and that now-iconic chair, she had Andy Warhol handle her costuming. And not too many actors could seize a room’s attention without saying a single line of dialogue.
In 2022, Vamp received a retrospective novelization from Encyclopocalypse. This literary union of preexisting source material—Wenk’s original screenplay—and new ideas from author Christian Francis amounts to a more comprehensive visit to the After Dark Club. The basic story there is no different than what’s shown on screen; however, Francis gets creative with the characters’ origins and designs, and he enhances a number of key scenes.
The novelization expands on the urban and social decay of the main setting, and supplies a background for the After Dark Club. Sandy Baron’s character, Katrina’s emcee and familiar, is given ample motivation for sticking around; up until the fiery end, he is loyal to his friend and former business partner “Squeak”, who looks like he was “fed through a combine harvester, and left as nothing more than a heap of mangled remains”. Then there is Billy Drago’s character Snow, the leader of a street gang called The Dragons. His reason for menacing Keith and AJ is more altruistic than in the movie; he and his peers act tough to scare off any potential food for the vampires.
Lisa Lyon in Vamp
If not for all the backstories, Francis’ Vamp would be a hell of a lot shorter. Instead, this tie-in read dives into how AJ met Keith—the orphaned Anthony Joseph hailed from a broken home back in Brooklyn—and how their friendship flourished over the years. Keith’s archership is no longer just an assumed part of his entire being; it’s a confidence-building extracurricular for a boy who got picked on before coming into the protection of the new kid in town. These supplemental, in-depth looks at the protagonists, plus their close connection, are maybe unnecessary. The movie already did a fair and concise job of addressing their platonic intimacy without the need for flashbacks and insights, specifically in that scene where AJ lays it all out as he sacrifices himself.
Where the novelization gets off course is its approach to the minor characters. Intermittently backstorying the likes of Katrina’s indentured servants, Seko (Leila Hee Olsen) and Vlad (Brad Logan), ends up disturbing the flow of the writing. Was it absolutely essential that readers know Vlad was the Grand Duke of the House of Romanov, or how Snow’s accomplice Maven (Paunita Nichols) became so dentally challenged? No, not really. However, one’s mileage with these random biographies may vary.
The novelization is a more substantial experience, but for a movie like Vamp, less is more. And as plentiful as they are, it never simply coasts on its campy charms, either. The character work sits comfortably in that realm between cursory and meticulous, the script is sharper than first realized, and Greg Cannom’s vampire makeup is straightforward yet effective. Most of all, the movie didn’t squander its out-of-the-box concept. Richard Wenk made his vision of a “comic nightmare in which just about anything that can go wrong does” come true, and it is very enjoyable.
You must be logged in to post a comment.