Open water

It came from the independent sector! Since Sundance became yet another photo-op for starlets in this seasons’ silicone and skiwear, it’s easy to forget that it’s supposed to be a film festival where budding directors hock their wares. Thankfully, someone kept their eyes on the screen long enough to spot the potential in this edgy aquatic horror, and hats off to them, for not since Jaws has a film so successfully mainlined into the deep-seated primal fears of the diving industry.
The premise is outrageously simple – a young, professional couple shut down their mobiles and laptops just long enough to head for a long-awaited holiday in the Caribbean. On a scuba-diving expedition, they accidentally get left behind in shark-invested waters, and their mid-ocean abandonment quickly inspires despair, terror and lots of marital bickering. As they lose their minds out on the waves, predators circle and our protagonists find themselves at the wrong end of the food-chain.
Writer/director Chris Kentis smartly cuts between our bobbing pair all at sea (those prone to motion-sickness should probably bring their chewing ginger) and their idyllic resort (populated by hummingbirds, turtle-doves, angel-fish and all manner of twittering paradisiacal creatures) just to tease out the holiday-from-hell dimension. But the most obvious point of reference for this accomplished psychological horror is the considerably less exotic Blair Witch Project. Like that film, Open Water isolates and torments its characters, making their desperate plight increasingly intense over 24 hours of self-preservation. It also plays the ‘based on real events’ card, though that seems considerably more plausible in this instance, given that sharks are generally more menacing than long-dead spinsters.
Shot on DV, the murky ocean photography inspires something less than oceanic feeling, and one suspects the ghost of Jacques Cousteau will remain untroubled by the competition. That said, the low rent approach serves the narrative supremely well – you’re never really sure what’s lurking about in those muddied pixels, and the tight, claustrophobic lens-work offsets the sparse, taut script wonderfully. And anyway, if it isn’t cheap and nasty, or Italian with naked chicks in masks, then it’s not a real horror movie.
In the absence of infinite studio resources and special effects, Open Water makes terrific use of suggestion – check out the skin-crawling distress of the jellyfish scene – and that’s just the start of the psyche out. However, it’s the raw, faultless performances of previous unknowns Ryan and Travis that really elevate the movie well above the When Fish Attack genre. They start out as annoying, stereotypical American tourists in I-could-buy-and-sell-your-sorry-ass-mode, but by the shocking, audacious finale – which I’m not at liberty to discuss, but it’s a good one - they’re genuinely heartbreaking. So cancel that trip to the seaside, and check out this cunning barracuda of a movie. And let’s just pray there isn’t a Blair Witch 2-style encore when Hollywood gets its grubby fingers on the rights.