Immersed in the endless deluge of movies that portray a supernatural evil, grandiose contempt of comics or crazy slashers who might as well be Supernatural, "Crawl" is dedicated to such a stubborn terror force of this land that she is likely to hit a slightly exotic Saturday night audience. The film, a thriller reduced and waterlogged, is built around a murderous attack of alligators – large, long wavy motions that emerge during a category five hurricane into the Southwest Florida. The director, Alexandre Aja ("High Tension", "The hills have eyes"), gives life to the creatures through a combination of digital images, models and (perhaps) alligators of the real life, all creating an impressive impression. credible image of born chomping fear. These gators look like real gators, just as the current Godzilla does not look like a rubbery special effect, but a real one … uh, Godzilla.
Over the decades, there has been a handful of cheap scare movies on alligators, including "Alligator," a 1979 B movie written by John Sayles in the era of the pre-indie revolution when 39 A horror film written by John Sayles carried the poetic mystique touched by a poet. The difference between yesterday and today is that once, when you were doing a thriller about people who were trying to escape the wrath of nature, these people, even if they could have been, were always in the foreground. (That's why we could talk about Alligator in terms of scenario.)
Today, even in a basic film like this, logistics is at the center of our concerns: lighting wet pea soup, swirling storm, the way the camera inserts every nook of the film's claustrophobic setting – a flooded ultra-gunky basement, where Haley Keller (Kaya Scoledario), a competitive swimmer at the University of Florida, and his father, Dave (Barry Pepper), escaped the competition , try to escape from a pair of carnivorous reptile-skinned feet that have entered through the drainpipe and can swim up to their eyes in front of the camera. "Crawl" is no pretense and not much scope; it's about "jaws" installed in an old dark house.
When Haley arrives to save her father for the first time (she does not know that there are alligators there – she just thinks that he's caught in the storm), she finds him, with a torn leg and a bite in the shoulder, in a corner of the basement that was isolated from the rest by several large horizontal pipes. She is soon reunited with him, and their safest option would probably be to stay there. So there would be no movie. So, Haley not only has to go out and grab the cell phone there, but she must also call 911 before returning to safety (even if she is only six feet away).
Still, it would be foolish to choose a movie like "Crawl" on the basis of plausibility; the semi-monotony of the film "funhouse" visibly lousy is reason enough. That's right, there are times when you torture yourself in your place at the proxy prospect of being eaten alive. But given the limited number of main characters, there is a scene of too much in which Haley, interpreted by Kaya Scoledario with a googly-eyed plumard suggesting that Jessica Harper crosses with Emma Stone, swims in the dark, just in the dark. beyond the dead jaw, and sometimes finds one of its members momentarily stuck in the jaws of an alligator, but still manages to escape the body and the soul intact.
At one point, several unsympathetic characters come to the store on the other side of the street (this is a connected landscape because of the stormy flood), and they could also carry placards stating "Fresh meat". This is also true, a nice character appears. (He is torn apart by about five alligators.) But "Rampez," you understand, is truly dedicated to the therapeutic potential of fighting alligators to heal the relationship between a divorced father and the girl he had trained at of swimming competitions. They rediscover their links when the water level rises, pushing them into the house and eventually onto the roof.
It seems that we are having a relaxing time "Jaws". This film, of course, never left. But The Summer of last summer has shown that even a shameless assembly literally and without much suspense of "Jaws" tricks could convince the public to spend enough time, and will give us the "47 meters lower" "Uncaged." "Crawl" attaches to this trend as a toothed boat. At the box office, it will probably offer about a weekend of nostalgia and, with the dazzling version of Bill Haley & His Comets, in its version of "See You Later, Alligator" playing on the closing credits, the public can be convinced that a film of this primitive hokey in his call must be a joke that they are in. But no, there is no joke, at least not one that leaves traces.