You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
It’s Jaws meets Twister.
It’s a storm with a teeth.
It’s a tornado with a thirst for blood.
Sharknado is the latest greatest who cares. It’s a big fat so what with a dorsal fin.
This is a B movie with a capital B.
Sharknado makes Swamp Thing look like Shakespeare in the park.
Sharknado on the Sci Fi Channel is one part Saturday Night Live skit and one part psychodellic mushroom trip.
The only thing it’s missing is Chevy Chase wearing a shark head delivering pizzas.
Why are sharks in a water tornado? Does it matter?
Monster sharks, thousands of them, have been picked up by the strongest winds ever recorded in the solar system. The sharks are swimming, flying, twirling toward Los Angeles in a vortex of energized sea water.
Sharknado is a water spout with angst. It’s a twister full of man eaters. Sharknado is two bad ideas combined into one super twisting terrible idea.
And what better place for a Sharknado than Southern California. L.A. is a soulless place full of interminable sunsets, Mr. Zoggs Sex Wax and deep fried tofu. Ask anyone from the Inland Empire and they’ll tell you that L.A. deserves to be inundated by 20 foot long flying sharks.
Our human heroes in this cinematic farce are no more equipped to handle this freak emergency than a cock roach is ready to fight a can of Black Flag.
These B list actors go after Sharknado with shot guns and a helicopter.
That’s like fighting Mike Tyson with oven mitts.
“We’re gonna need a bigger helicopter” the pilot says, playing off the famous quote in Jaws I.
Sharknado is ludicrous. It’s so preposterous, in the dictionary next to the entry Sharknado, Meriam Webster has etched a frowny face.
The high light of comes when a man eating shark, swimming in a vortex of swirling air, swallows a man whole.
Just as a tear comes to the viewer’s eye, the man blasts his way out of the belly of the beast like some kind of cannery row Dirty Harry.
This story is meant to be campy stupid. Mission accomplished.
The twittersphere exploded with people tweeting about Sharknado. In reality, the shows ratings were marginal at best.
Regardless of hits or tweets or viewers, the premise of a flying tornadic shark attack is fun. It’s fun like sprinkles on ice cream. It’s fun like that first beer buzz. It’s fun like hitting a jumper from behind the three point arc.
So Sharknado, I toast you.
What’s next, lava pirates of the Caribbean?