Krocodylus aka Blood Surf (2000)

(In French, On Cable TV, January 2021) Anyone who willingly goes into a movie either called Krocodylus or Blood Surf and complains about it being a substandard monster movie is really asking for it—this is bargain-basement filmmaking, not quite terrible but certainly not good. The problems are obvious from the moment the premise is articulated—when a producer hits upon the idea of attracting sharks to willing surfers in the name of filmed thrills, well, what did anyone expect? And that’s even before a nine-meter crocodile comes into play. You know the rest: screaming and chomping on a loop until the least objectionable characters remain. The thing is, I can understand all too well the reason for Krocodylus’s existence: it’s an easy-enough premise to explain, and it’s shot in the picturesque Philippines, meaning a few days of work in tropical beautiful surroundings for cast, crew and director James D. R. Hickox. The rest of the film is a rote delivery of an over-familiar product fit for order in the ways schlock horror films were sold and distributed at the turn of the century. It’s almost exactly what’s on the tin, but without anything looking like wit or polished execution. Once again: what else were you expecting?