Hey, anyone remember Lake Placid? Sure you do! It was that killer crocodile movie that came out in 1999 that had a surprisingly great cast (Bridget Fonda, Brendon Gleeson, Bill Pullman), a razor sharp script by Ally McBeal’s David E. Kelly, some cracking croc effects by the late, great Stan Winston and despite the fact that it sank at the box office, it still remains a fun high point of killer animal cinema.
I only ask because it seems that the makers of the stunningly cheap Lake Placid 2 not only fail to have a single memory of the original movie, but I’m also guessing that they have no memory of any film where any one of nature’s flesh eaters goes batshit and starts eating every jobbing actor they can find.
Yep, that’s right, in 2007, Lake Placid joined other such entertaining titles as From Dusk Till Dawn, Darkman, Wrong Turn and Starship Troopers as it got sequelized into oblivion by a string of cheap-jack follow-ups that never got remotely close to the quality of the source material.
After a stoned researcher gets ripped to pieces by a mystery animal while sitting on a raft in the middle of a lake in Aroosook County, Maine, his surviving buddy goes to get help from the local law enforcement. However, despite being led by the dashing Sheriff James Riley, the local cops prove to be as effective as a crash helmet made of clay as laugh off the remains as something that shouldn’t be worried about.
Maybe the reason that Riley is so shit at his job is that Scott, his son from a particularly brutal divorce, is staying over and communicates almost entirely in complaints and whining, but the sheriff sucks up the last dredges of professionalism and heads out to investigate with the odd disposable deputy and local wildlife officer, Emma Warner whom he also has a past with.
Despite a lot of glib comments and self-satisfied smirking that makes Robert Downey Jr. seem like Werner Herzog, soon the truth is revealed – the lake has become the hunting group for not one, not two, but three huge, man eating crocodiles that presumably have been responsible for the rash of disappearances that’s been happening in the vininity of the titular body of water.
All of a sudden, help is at hand from the arrival of swaggering poacher, Jack Struthers, who immediately engages in a battle with Riley as to who can hold a most unbearably smug expression the longest, but as time goes on, it seems that even the poacher’s impressive arsenal may not slow the eating habits of the croc collection that’s stalking them through the woods.
Elsewhere, Scott has found himself in a similar predicament as he’s gone out for a swim with pretty local Kerri and her trashy buddies who are sp unbearable, the sudden attack of a 40 foot reptile proves to be an actual high point of the trip.
As both groups fight for survival, the explanation behind the crocs may lie with crabby old biddy, Sadie Bickerman, whose missing sister, Delores, had strange ideas about what animals could be considered pets.
Advanced levels of penny pinching are to be expected when a studio expands an IP into the realms of a small screen debut, but after watching the made-for-television Lake Placid 2, I truly believe the bean counters decided to cut corners by hiring people with no experience in the film business whatsoever. Even for a movie made for the Sci-Fi Channel back in the 2000s, the film has truly shocking production values that contains flat direction by David Flores, terrible cinematography (some scenes are visibly out of focus) and the type of computer generated imagery that looks like it was grafted pixel by pixel out from a PS1 game.
If that wasn’t irritating enough, there isn’t even the slightest shred of wit carried over from the over achieving script of the original that frankly demanded that you felt something for the starry cast and the only thing you’re likely to feel here is bored, irritable and most likely gassy too. Still, maybe that proves to be something of a good thing, because you sure wouldn’t want to waste a great script on these actors, who mercilessly overload the local network reception as they all choose to phone in their performances without a second thought.
Led by former Duke Of Hazard, John Schneider, who must have been inwardly cursing being killed off from Smallville a couple of years earlier, the actors literally just shuffle about the place, blurring out unfunny lines until the VFX guys show up to tell them to look vaguely scared to a certain direction. However, not only are their jobs made infinitely tougher by the awful dialogue, the poor writing all make them seem incredibly dumb too. Are you seriously telling me that the news of two huge crocs caught elsewhere on the same lake has somehow entered so far into the realms of legend that a sheriff doesn’t know it actually happened? It only took place eight, fucking years ago and one of the bastards was even caught alive and trucked of to sodding Portland! Not only that, but we also have a poacher played by Sam McMurray, who is rich enough to bring along his own plane and even an grenade launcher and yet doesn’t actually seem to know how to actually kill an animal. Maybe we shouldn’t be too hard on him as the stress of maintaining an Irish accent shakier than a Tickle Me Elmo seems to be taking up all of his attention. In fact, everyone onscreen is done dirty by some jarringly clumsy looping that has everyone sounding as dubbed as one of those annoying Haribo adverts and I guess even an Oscar winner would have trouble not sounding like they’re trying to mumble through their lines after a particularly potent liquid lunch.
Still, they’re more engrossing than the cartoonish crocs, who never once look like they’re connecting with their surroundings, even when they have one of the faceless teens locked in their jaws. Although, I will concede that the attempt to keep the spirit of Betty White’s endearingly foul mouthed, croc feeding Dolores alive in her on-screen sister is an admittedly neat touch.
For a movie that’s supposedly a comedy thriller, the only time you’ll find yourself perched on the edge of your seat is when your popcorn pings in the microwave in the kitchen and the only time you’ll laugh is at the sheer desperation of the random scattered nudity that’s so gratuitous, it makes a low-rent 80s era slasher seem like arthouse erotica in comparison.
The quintessential example of a movie you don’t pause if you’ve got to leave the room to piss, this lake is noticably more flaccid than placid.
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