Review by Ben Bussey
Yes, Roger Corman’s still alive. No, he has not yet tired of lending his name to half-brained SyFy Channel films with a concept surely concieved over beers in a titty bar, scribbled down on a napkin, accidentally slipped into a stripper’s thong, then hastily retrieved before being rushed to American World Pictures HQ. So what this time, eh? We’ve had Sharktopus, Dinoshark, Dinocroc vs. Supergator; so now what silly title can we come up with that provides an excuse for a poorly rendered CG beastie to wreak havoc in an off-season holiday destination? What’s that you say? Half snake half killer fish? Well alright, greenlit. I’m sorry, what? It’s not really half-fish, more just a big bastard snake with big teeth? Ah, who gives a shit, still greenlit.
But believe it or not, there might be a tiny, tiny bit more to Piranhaconda than you might initially think. You see, this isn’t just a people versus giant killer snake movie; it’s a B-movie crew versus gun-toting kidnappers versus giant killer snake. All the difference, wouldn’t you say?
So here’s how it breaks down. A typically ragtag, mismatched bunch of low budget filmmakers – including would-be scream queen Kimmy (Shandi Finnessey), charming heroic stunt guy Jack (Ribb Hillis) and script supervisor/’tattoo final girl on my forehead’ Rose (Terri Ivens) – are shooting a shitty sequel to a shitty slasher movie which, for some unexplained reason, is being shot in Hawaii. Yeah, because the first thing any underpriced hack-’em-up flick does is up sticks for exotic faraway locations. Girls will accept money to take their tops off and let you spray fake blood on them in any arse-end of nowhere town, you know. Anyway, they think they’ve got problems when their funding gets cut and they’re forced to abandon the shoot – but of course, they’re wrong. First off, they have to deal with the aforementioned gang of kidnappers – who, again for no apparent reason, count among their number the Artist formerly known as Mrs Rod Stewart/Stacey’s Mom, AKA Rachel Hunter – who hope to get a hefty ransom from the studio. And then, of course, there’s the big fuck-off man-eating snake. And who should be on the trail of the fucker but Michael bastard Madsen. If you can’t quite believe he’s in this film, he’s right there with you. Ours is not to question.
These AWP/SyFy productions are always infuriating for the simple reason that they’re made specifically for SyFy, which means minimal gore, little to no swearing, and absolutely no nudity. This really does not compute when the guy behind the camera is Jim Wynorski, a director who got his start with Corman a good three decades ago on the near-legendary Chopping Mall, yet – unlike Coppolla, Scorcese, Demme et al – is still one of Corman’s go-to guys in 2012. The thing is, up to this point Wynorski’s monumental filmography (90+ under various aliases – the American Franco, anyone?) has been pretty much defined by two things, and lots of them. Yes, I’m talking about bazoomas, melons, jugs, sweater puppies, fun bags, love muffins, tig ol’ bitties, Danny DeVitos (that one has haunted me since Eli Roth used it in Piranha 3D). So we see the problem. By all rights Piranhaconda should be as resplendent with bountiful boobage as, say, Dinosaur Island or his Bare Wench Project series (okay, I haven’t actually seen the latter but I’m going to go out on a limb and assume it’s got a lot of tits in it), but those pesky TV guidelines forbid it. Ever hear the classic Bill Hicks routine about hotel porno movies with the pornography cut out of it…?
Well, it may be somewhat neutered, but Wynorski’s grubby fingerprints are still much in evidence. By comparison with plenty of the more recent SyFy monster flicks, we have a great more top-heavy actresses here clad either in bikini tops or low cut and invariably wet vests, all filmed in a typically voyeuristic fashion. Presumably it’s the only reason Rachel Hunter’s there, as she sure as shit doesn’t serve much narrative function or bring much else to the table as an actress. And the director knows exactly what he’s doing when Terri Ivens stumbles into the giant snake’s nest, and finds her torso coated in some thick, transluscent sticky stuff. Brings to mind that moment in Eight Legged Freaks, when a giant spider pounces on a towel clad Scarlet Johannson and sprays her down with distinctly white and sticky webbing. Now what might that be supposed to resemble, I wonder?
Doubtless there’s also more to be said on how the monstrous antagonist obviously looks like a gargantuan penis, but I think we get the general idea. Anyway, we might be in slight danger of reading too much into a really, really silly film with spectacularly sub-par CGI, extraordinarily lazy cinematography and editing, and locations which are clearly nowhere near as warm and sunny as the filmmakers would have us believe. Also high on the list of SyFy crimes against monster movies are the death scenes; they obviously can’t be especially graphic, but do they really have to be so fucking repetitive? Seriously, every single death is practically identical: Piranhaconda pounces forward, human disappears in cloud of red mist, and their shoes go tumbling. Whilst the film has yet to go by the BBFC, a 15 certificate is predicted; in no way is this warranted, particularly in a country where Jaws is rated 12.
But at this point, pretty much all of this goes without saying. No one expects intelligence, depth and interesting characterisation in movies like this. It’s 85 minutes of unchallenging silliness, and really, for what it is it’s perfectly good fun. The cast are likeable, the dialogue is agreeably dumb, the psychobilly theme tune is reasonably toe-tapping, and you’ll forget about most of it within minutes of the end. Yeah, it’s crap, but it’s not crap crap. And anyway you look at it, it’s still better than Piranha 3DD.
Piranhaconda is released to Region 2 DVD on 7th January, from Chelsea Films.