The Meg

Sometimes one needs a bit of mindless fun, at least I do on occasion. The summer movie, The Meg seemed perfect for that, and since Studly Doright had no interest in seeing it, I went by myself on a Wednesday afternoon while he was in Orlando for meetings.

Sure, there were other, more cerebral movies I could’ve spent the afternoon watching, but I was in the mood for a no-brainer. I certainly chose well.

First off, there will be no Oscars awarded for The Meg, unless perhaps it earns a nod for “Best Film Featuring a Gigantic, Vengeful Shark in the Tradition of Jaws.” The shark, or rather, Megalodon, is fearsome, and for such a large creature he sure could sneak up on people. I jumped and giggled every time it happened.

Jason Statham played second fiddle to the Meg, as Jonas, a diver with deep sea experience and a troubled past. Of course. Isn’t a troubled past de rigueur for a hero in a disaster-type film?

Rainn Wilson portrayed the stereotypical billionaire with a heart of lead who funded the deep sea expedition that unleashed the Meg on an unsuspecting world.

The remainder of the cast performed admirably, joking in the face of danger, recovering at a remarkable pace in the face of the deaths of their co-workers and loved ones: “Too bad about your dad. Hey, you wanna go grab dinner? I’m starving.”

I left the film totally unchanged. I’d gained no new insights into the human condition. Made no new vows to be a better person. But, I now know that one motivated, plucky dog can out swim a giant, prehistoric fish, thus bringing about a fairy tale ending. All is well.

Peace, people.