Tagline: In the middle of the ocean, there’s nowhere to run.
Directors: Matt L. Lockhart
Cast: Jason Mewes, Luke Guldan, Tyler Johnson, Joy Glass, Tara Heston and Richard Riehle
Distributor: Chelsea Films
Release date: 23rd April 2012
We watch a lot of bad films here at Chris and Phil Towers, what can I say, it’s a calling. However every now and again a film comes along so rancid, so utterly devoid of worth, bereft of merit, lacking in interest, that it is like biting into a ripe piece of Limburger cheese that has matured in a burly rugby half back’s sports truss over a period of years and feeling a bloated maggot burst against your teeth.
That film is not The Watermen, no, it’s worse.
The Watermen is the cloying lumpy ichor that bursts from the maggot’s vile carcass and coats your throat making you gag and heave. And it has an aftertaste that will make you want to gargle with bleach. THAT, ladies and germs, is The Watermen.
Written and directed by someone who with the storytelling ability of a slime mould, The Waterman is a slasher movie spiced with some torture of the type that was fashionable last century. After the obligatory “scary” opening involving possibly the most gratuitously exposed breast in horror film history and a large fish hook on a pole, we are introduced to three extremely unlikable male protagonists. Trailer (Jason Mewes) is a cretin with a trust fund and a face like a leather wallet made out of a bat’s scrotum, he has arranged to take his friends Mike and Bret on a fishing trip with three nubile young glamour models (they don’t bother giving them characters, I’m going on appearances). These are three grown men between the ages of 30 and 40 who amuse themselves by pulling their balls out on webcams. Beavis and Butthead wouldn’t want to be seen with these morons. And yes, you do get a long lingering look at Jason Mewes’ perky man cheese sack.
Anyway, they set sail. Mewes messes with some crab traps. The girls flash their breasts and collect their pay cheques. And before you can sing a verse of “Farewell and adieu to you dear Spanish ladies” the boat is dead in the water and the kids are being menaced by a bunch of fisherman who want to turn them into crab bait. Cue some genuinely distasteful torture scenes, some death, and some running around.
It’s complete shit, Mewes has the charisma of a wet flannel, and everyone involved should be taken to the nearest anthrax infested island and left there.
Rating: 0.5 stars