The Shark Movie That Sank Before It Swam: A Commentary on 'Chum' and the State of Cinematic Thrills
There’s something inherently thrilling about a shark movie. Maybe it’s the primal fear of the unknown depths, or the sheer audacity of pitting humans against nature’s most perfect predator. But let’s be honest: the genre is a minefield. For every Jaws, there are dozens of B-movies that miss the mark so spectacularly, they become unintentionally hilarious. Enter Chum, a film that promises Mediterranean sun, newlywed drama, and a psychopathic killer—all while battling a shark. On paper, it sounds like a recipe for popcorn-fueled fun. In execution? It’s a masterclass in how not to make a thriller.
What Went Wrong? A Perfect Storm of Missteps
From my perspective, Chum is a case study in wasted potential. The premise isn’t inherently bad—a yacht excursion gone wrong, a shark, and a killer? Sign me up. But the execution is where it all falls apart. The characters are so infuriatingly one-dimensional that I found myself rooting for the shark within the first act. The newlywed couple, for instance, seems to hate each other more than they fear the predator circling their boat. Personally, I think this is a missed opportunity. If you’re going to introduce human conflict, it needs to feel authentic, not forced. Instead, the film leans into melodrama, making the characters feel less like real people and more like caricatures.
One thing that immediately stands out is the acting. Alice Eve is the only recognizable face, and she’s the only one who seems to be trying. The rest of the cast delivers performances that feel like they belong in a SyFy Original—stiff, awkward, and utterly forgettable. What many people don’t realize is that bad acting can sink a film faster than a shark attack. It breaks the immersion, and once that’s gone, you’re left with a hollow shell of a movie.
AI in Filmmaking: A Double-Edged Sword
The use of AI in Chum is perhaps the most baffling aspect of the film. On the surface, it’s a cost-effective way to incorporate real shark footage, but the execution is so jarring that it becomes a distraction. The shark attacks look like something out of a video game from the early 2000s—limbs float unnaturally, and the victims seem to willingly place themselves in the shark’s mouth. If you take a step back and think about it, this is a perfect example of technology outpacing storytelling. AI can’t replace good old-fashioned craftsmanship, and Chum proves it.
What this really suggests is that filmmakers are still grappling with how to integrate AI into their work. It’s not just about the visuals; it’s about how those visuals serve the narrative. In Chum, the AI feels like a crutch, a way to cut corners rather than enhance the experience. This raises a deeper question: Are we sacrificing quality for efficiency? In my opinion, the answer is a resounding yes.
The Unintentional Comedy of It All
Here’s where Chum gets interesting—albeit for all the wrong reasons. The film is so bad that it becomes unintentionally funny. The slow-motion shots of mundane actions, the over-the-top music cues, and the bizarre editing choices all contribute to a sense of absurdity. Personally, I found myself laughing more than gasping, and that’s not a good sign for a thriller.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how the film seems to be unaware of its own ridiculousness. It’s not a Sharknado, which leans into its absurdity with self-awareness. Chum tries to take itself seriously, and that’s where it fails. If you’re going to make a B-movie, own it. Embrace the camp, lean into the chaos. Instead, Chum feels like it’s stuck in no-man’s-land—too serious to be fun, too sloppy to be taken seriously.
The Broader Implications: What Does Chum Say About Modern Cinema?
Chum is more than just a bad shark movie; it’s a symptom of a larger trend in filmmaking. With the rise of streaming and the demand for constant content, quality often takes a backseat to quantity. Films like Chum are churned out to fill a void, to capitalize on a genre without investing in its potential. This isn’t just a problem for shark movies—it’s a problem for cinema as a whole.
From my perspective, this is a missed opportunity to innovate. Instead of relying on AI and recycled tropes, why not take risks? Why not explore new ways to tell stories? Chum could have been a fresh take on the genre, but it settled for mediocrity. What this really suggests is that we, as audiences, deserve better.
Final Thoughts: Is Chum Worth Watching?
If you’re looking for a film to mock with friends, Chum might fit the bill. It’s the kind of movie that’s so bad, it’s almost good. But if you’re hoping for a competent thriller, you’ll be sorely disappointed. Personally, I think Chum is a cautionary tale—a reminder that even the most promising ideas can be ruined by poor execution.
In the end, Chum isn’t just a bad shark movie; it’s a missed opportunity, a wasted premise, and a reminder of what happens when storytelling takes a backseat to shortcuts. If you take a step back and think about it, that’s the real tragedy here.
