Instead of allowing death or fate or some other philosophically cosmic notion to cut a swath through a group of anonymous teens and early twentysomethings, David R. Ellis (a couple of Final Destinations, Snakes on a Plane) outsources the task to a random collection of sharks hanging around a Louisiana Gulf lake house (don’t ask, because I don’t believe anyone involved behind the scenes here knows why).
There’s not a single hint of personality or even basic humanity anywhere on screen, and in terms of narrative sense, Shark Night boldly cross over into the negative zone. Ellis must have been tired and bored after having to cater to such ideas and all of the Rube Goldberg kill schemes from Final Destination and figured that this would be a mindless exercise to clear his sensibilities. Good for him, because he certainly has achieved that goal, in spades.
If we are to pity anyone their fate here, throw a party for the sharks. I would lay none of the blame for all the fake blood and floating mess of limbs in the water (even by current 3-D standards) on them. This truly forgettable Night belongs to Ellis, and he deserves to spend the run-time of this failed torture chamber of horrors in a cage with some of the hungrier real-life sharks circling him. Now that might be worth watching. Grade: F