Warner Bros.It would seem almost impossible to botch a film pitting Jason Statham against a gargantuan prehistoric shark, and yet that was the only feat accomplished by The Meg, director John Turteltaub’s underwhelming 2018 aquatic monster mash. Nonetheless, with a $530 million global box-office haul, a sequel was preordained, and with English auteur Ben Wheatley (Kill List, A Field in England, In the Earth) at the helm, Meg 2: The Trench seemed primed to at least surpass its incompetent predece
If I were to sit here and spew out every single thing that happens in Meg 2: The Trench, you’d probably get very excited about it. Purely as a list of bullet points, the film has everything you’d want in a movie about big, killer sharks: bigger killer sharks, unfathomable action scenes, terrifying new creatures, plenty of wanton chaos, and Jason Statham on a jet ski, just to name a few. And yet, in the context of a film with all that and more, Meg 2 just plain misses. The bones are all there, bu