by Allisonnnnn This Geek in Netflix: 2-Headed Shark Attack

If you’re anything like me, you lay awake at night pondering deeply philosophical questions. Am I the sum of my experiences? If I had chronic amnesia, would I lose all sense of who I am as a person, or would there still be a core sort of self? What could be the worst possible time for a two-headed shark to attack?

I can’t answer the first two questions, but now I can answer the third. No, it’s not during a massive volcano eruption, nor during a meteor shower and, yes, while being the middle of a human centipede and being attacked by a two-headed shark would be really inconvenient, I can say without a doubt that the worst time for a mutant shark attack would be on Opposite Day.

Earlier this year, The Asylum, a production company with a tendency to release low budget movies with similar themes to upcoming blockbusters, released 2-Headed Shark Attack. This, mind you, is the same company that brought us such fine films as Mega Shark v.s. Crocosaurus, #1 Cheerleader Camp, and Snakes on a Train. (Trivia tidbit: their latest, Nazis at the Center of the Earth, is set to release on the 24th of this month. Premiere party at Jonathan London’s house!)

This must-see film doesn’t only feature a massive two-headed shark, but also features performances by Carmen Electra (Carmen Electra’s Aerobic Striptease), Charlie O’Connell (Sliders’ Colin Mallory), and Brooke Hogan (Mrs. Hulk Hogan’s womb). The cast, I will admit, might be more alarming than the shark.

How do these actors all come together to form the magical film that graces our presence today? So glad you asked—otherwise this article would have ended prematurely, and I hate it when action is halted by someone being premature. In this wild tale of fantasy, Dr. Babish (Electra) and Professor Babish (O’Connell) take a boatload of college kids out on… a boat. What else are you going to carry a boatload of kids on?

As female characters are slowly being established as entities independent of their breasts, the corpse of a mega-mouth shark, a species that is normally consigned to the depths of the ocean with Amy Winehouse begin to surface. This dead fish inconveniences the Babishes and their little army of castaways when it gets stuck in the ship’s propeller and begins to jettison a trail of little bloody bits behind them as they bob along, summoning the two-headed shark right to their lido deck.

Angry at not being allowed into the sunbathing area due to inappropriate attire, the mutant shark rams the side of the vessel, causing the hull to crack and water to seep in. It is at this time that Opposite Day is announced. Talk about timing, right?

How to handle Opposite Day during a shark attack:

Have the captain of the ship loudly announce how the boat is sinking, the radio is broken, and everyone is, essentially, fucked. Following that, evacuate the ship to a nearby island with well-kept buildings, groomed pathways, and the occasional electrical outlet. While wandering these fenced paths, make sure everyone loudly complains about how the island has no sign of recent human life and that there might be cannibals.

While the ship starts to sink, insert a montage of Carmen Electra doing vaguely erotic poses as she sunbathes in order to keep the feeling of action and intensity at its highest peak. Oh, wait, that’s when it’s Opposite Day for the director! I’m going to insert awkward laughter here and get back to the movie.

We quickly learn that the shark is not subject to the laws of Opposite Day or physics—while the kids roam the island getting into nonsensical conversations with emotional outbursts that make very little sense, the twenty-foot long shark begins to slam its body into the island, causing quakes to rock the several mile wide island as pieces begin to fall off and cracks show on the surface.

What will they do?! They can’t go into the water because there’s a two-headed shark, and they can’t stay on the island because it’s falling to pieces due to the shark’s amorous affections! It’s the ultimate catch-22! The horror, the tension, the… oh, fuck it, I can’t keep this fake interest up.

I’d like to go more into this movie, about how the remaining few survivors at the end of the film somehow set a t-shirt hanging out of a gas can on fire with a Zippo… while underwater, or about how the anchored – and supposedly sinking— ship constantly varies its distance from the island. One hundred feet, two miles, what’s the difference when a boat race is going on?

But what I’d really like to talk about is how this movie consistently fails to keep the most basic levels of realism. How can a girl on one side of the island see what’s going on on the other side of the island? How can a group of people on the shore see a shark swimming underwater two miles away? How can a speedboat race along for thirty seconds, only to wind up five feet from its starting point? How could this movie have passed anyone’s quality control?

FUCK.

I hate this movie. I’m all about B-movies, I really am. Nazis under the earth? Hell, yes. A car that runs solely on human blood? Definitely. Sharks with scorpion tails and prehensile tongues? If I’m watching porn, sure.

But I can’t do this. I need the laws of physics to be obeyed, especially if biology is being so delightfully disregarded. This movie lives on others’ suffering and a complete disregard of the natural order of things, like eyeline matching and reality. Carmen Electra, a doctor?? Who would believe that? The only redeeming thing in this movie is the opening scene. They blew their sharky load in the first three minutes.

I want to shoot someone. I want to find out which exact people are responsible for this mess and I want to take away whatever guild cards they may have and ship them out to Ohio where they can live as corn farmers and won’t be able to do any more harm.

So if you feel like being horribly disappointed, if you feel like screaming at your television, if you feel like designing a drinking game around Opposite Day that is sure to kill you (He leaps out of the boat to get away from the shark?? Take a drink!), fire this film up. I’ve done my best to dissuade you while staying under five thousand words— your suffering is no longer my responsibility.