Texas River Song
Piranha (1978)
directed by Joe Dante
rating: 3 out of 5 cravats
on DVD from the Squirrel Hill Library
Tubing down the Guadalupe as a kid, I used to worry about what was in the water. But it ran so clear that all one had to do was bring goggles or a snorkeling mask and see for himself. Piranha is an exercise in drive-through horror but also a love letter to Texas summers, directed by a guy from New Jersey. Taking the "all you can eat" approach favored by earlier New York transplant Jerry Jeff Walker, Dante fits every regional water sport he can find onto a thin band of Hill Country water: inner tubing; water skiing; swim races at camp; even rides on glass bottom boats with Ralph the Swimming Pig.
There are two shadow conspiracies at play, but the limestone cliffs of the Blanco, the Guadalupe, and the San Marcos rivers offer gentler entertainment than evil doctors moralizing about evil public officials. All the best jokes are shared between women, most of the time camp counselors and their wards. The counselors in particular embody the brash innocence that makes Roger Corman's protagonists heroes for the ages; when not throwing darts at Mr. Dumont's head, they offer encouragement and sage advice to the girls.
The most absurd scene puts a man and a woman on a Huck Finn raft in the middle of the river, then lets the piranhas cut the ropes to pieces. It is a horror movie, after all, and Dante and Corman are good enough to save the feeding frenzy for the kids. The sound the piranhas - pronounced "piranyas" - make is an angry subterranean buzz that's almost comforting, like a kettle on a campfire. Shots of bones stripped clean dangling from the pants legs of unwary fishermen seem shocking at first, until you imagine the June day that they filmed it. Just one more take and then let's hit the river.
directed by Joe Dante
rating: 3 out of 5 cravats
on DVD from the Squirrel Hill Library
Tubing down the Guadalupe as a kid, I used to worry about what was in the water. But it ran so clear that all one had to do was bring goggles or a snorkeling mask and see for himself. Piranha is an exercise in drive-through horror but also a love letter to Texas summers, directed by a guy from New Jersey. Taking the "all you can eat" approach favored by earlier New York transplant Jerry Jeff Walker, Dante fits every regional water sport he can find onto a thin band of Hill Country water: inner tubing; water skiing; swim races at camp; even rides on glass bottom boats with Ralph the Swimming Pig.
There are two shadow conspiracies at play, but the limestone cliffs of the Blanco, the Guadalupe, and the San Marcos rivers offer gentler entertainment than evil doctors moralizing about evil public officials. All the best jokes are shared between women, most of the time camp counselors and their wards. The counselors in particular embody the brash innocence that makes Roger Corman's protagonists heroes for the ages; when not throwing darts at Mr. Dumont's head, they offer encouragement and sage advice to the girls.
The most absurd scene puts a man and a woman on a Huck Finn raft in the middle of the river, then lets the piranhas cut the ropes to pieces. It is a horror movie, after all, and Dante and Corman are good enough to save the feeding frenzy for the kids. The sound the piranhas - pronounced "piranyas" - make is an angry subterranean buzz that's almost comforting, like a kettle on a campfire. Shots of bones stripped clean dangling from the pants legs of unwary fishermen seem shocking at first, until you imagine the June day that they filmed it. Just one more take and then let's hit the river.
Labels: Blue Heelers in Cinema
posted by NPK at 5:20 AM
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