There's a scene during The Meg when I expected a character to say, "you're gonna need a bigger boat." Sadly, no one does. So, in a story that's so clearly reminiscent of Jaws, an opportunity for a moment of self-aware fun is wasted. It's emblematic of the entire movie - all the pieces are in place for something entertaining to occur, but the payoff never comes.
The Meg has all the ingredients needed for a summer blockbuster and then some. It features a megalodon, a 90-foot-long prehistoric mega-shark that also happens to be one of the most perfectly named animals ever, Jason Statham, one of the marquee action movie stars of our time, and Rainn Wilson, who gave us one of the funniest television characters of the past 20 years: Dwight Schrute on The Office.
Take my money now. As Renee Zellweger says in Jerry Maguire, "you had me at mega-shark."
Boasting this embarrassment of riches, the movie practically screams FUN. With all these assets at their disposal, it's easy to envision filmmakers bringing to life this concept's illustrious potential on the big screen. There could be actors hamming it up in a stupendously silly summer epic flooded with ridiculous one-liners and "are they really doing this?" moments. It could be glorious.
There's just one problem: that's not what this movie is. Rather than lean into the absurdity and have a little fun, The Meg tries to sell a story about a tortured man of the sea who is now seeking revenge on the animal that attacked him (no, Herman Melville did not receive a screenwriting credit). The story is not affecting enough to elicit any noteworthy emotional responses, it's not smart enough to be scientifically sound and it's not over-the-top enough to reach a level of pure popcorn entertainment. Everything comes up short. Instead of a towering tidal wave, it brings only a gentle rolling tide.
Jason Statham plays the revenge-seeking seaman named Captain Ahab, erm, I mean, Jonas Taylor. After he was called crazy for believing that a giant unseen animal attacked his underwater vessel, he's summoned back into action by billionaire doofus, Morris (Wilson), who funds a deep-sea research facility. Morris needs Jonas to save his team of researchers, who are currently stranded at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, where they hoped to discover hidden marine life.
The megalodon, or as his friends call him, the meg, eventually emerges from the depths and wreaks havoc on the facility and all sorts of fancy exploration vehicles because, apparently, megalodons love the taste of metal. The meg later swaggers his way over to Sanya Bay in China, where he can capture local swimmers and the film's producers can capture the foreign movie-viewing market.
It takes 90 minutes of unnecessary scientific exposition to reach an enjoyable stretch. The plot revolves around a 90-foot prehistoric shark reappearing in 2018 - there's no reason to attempt to make any of this seem plausible. In addition to the superfluous fake science scenes, there's an insufferable amount of undeserved emotionality. Again, this story should focus on the giant shark, not half-hearted romances and pseudo-dramatic deaths. The eye-roll-worthy sentimentality clashes with the adjacent raucous action and silly jokes (yes, there are some of those, just not nearly enough). Weepy drama has no place here. This should be a zero-tears movie.
It's hard to tell exactly what the filmmakers were going for; the goal should have been so obvious, but there's clearly uncertainty, which explains why the tone is so uneven. The result is a mixed bag with too much emphasis on the wrong elements. It's not quite a mega-disappointment, but it's definitely a missed opportunity.
