Sand Sharks (2011)

Shock news! Sand Sharks isn’t terrible. Despite the name, plot, characters, actors and dialogue, Sand Sharks is loveably idiotic and an absolutely, ridiculously shameless horror film. Fun with friends and a bellyful of alcohol, this is not a “good” horror movie but certainly a good laugh.

The financially broken island of White Sands is in desperate need of money-making schemes, so when the Mayor’s idiot son returns and offers them a Spring Break festival, the townsfolk reluctantly agree.

Unfortunately for everyone, a festival isn’t the only new thing in White Sands. Sand sharks are!

What’s a sand shark? Well, I’ll let perma-tanned shark expert Doctor Sandy Powers explain – “It’s a predator that’s evolved to wear sand like a coat and travel through it like water.” Oh of course.

When the sharks threaten to destroy everything in White Sands, the local police team, doctor bimbo, the mayor’s son and one pathetic impression of Robert Shaw must team together to rid the sands of this horrific menace.

Sand Sharks is awful. For anyone who’s seen the recent swathe of monster-mash sea beast flicks, this is not much different. From Dinocroc to Megashark, the story is naff, the acting woeful and the CGI horrendous. For the most part, this is true of Sand Sharks, but it also has something the other films don’t – an open sense of humour.

The Asylum (creators of Transmorphers, Moby Dick, Megashark etc…) always seem to ignore humour in favour of creating what is, essentially, a shit rip-off of another film. The creators of Sand Sharks, however, knowingly homage, steal and parody their inspiration throughout – Jaws ­­­­– as well as a number of other films. One entire scene (the town meeting) is so obviously copyright infringement you’d probably have Spielberg fuming if it wasn’t so hilariously shameless!

Sand Sharks contains such “classic” lines as “We’re going to need a bigger beach”, “I love the smell of napalm in the afternoon” and the bimbo biologist even chucks out the ridiculous insult of “You sand of a bitch”. It is so bad it’s funny… as long as you’re clutching a beer.

Without the benefit of alcohol and friends, Sand Sharks is truly abysmal. There is some horrendous acting on display here, oddly mixed with some excellent, affable performances. Naturally the bad guys get all the best lines, with Corin Nemec’s Jimmy stealing every scene he’s in.

Then there’s the festival. The 1000s of teenagers are clearly about two dozen well spaced thirty year olds, wobbling by a sound stage and three crap tents. At this point the casting director should be shot or praised (depending on your point of view) for hiring a fat, topless, bearded extra in bright red shorts to run about in the background, because it makes a great drinking game. “Down a shot when you spot the teleporting fat bearded guy” – liver-damage awaits!

Sand Sharks also features quite literally the most fucking bat-shit ridiculous plan to kill anything, ever. Sod machine guns, sod the military or poison or – well, anything logical – their plan involves loud speakers, sand, electricity, a napalm gun and a raucous rendition of Row Row Row Your Boat. Completely insane, but oddly loveable because of it.

Sand Sharks pulls off what the majority of “giant monster” movies cannot – a self-knowing sense of humour that occasionally hits the mark. It’s absurd and it knows it, and although occasionally slipping into Scary Movie territory it’s more Larry Blamire than Wayans brothers.

Sand Sharks + friends + alcohol = winner. Don’t expect anything awesome, but do expect fun. Sand Sharks is lovably shit.

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