Jason Statham is good company, and the shark supplies a few tense encounters. But The Meg spends too long on flat dialogue and unconvincing drama to earn a recommendation.
Jason Statham facing a giant shark is a sound enough reason to make The Meg. Jon Turteltaub gets a few tense and amusing encounters out of the idea, but surrounds them with dull conversations and drama that asks for more concern than it earns. We cannot quite recommend it, even on the modest terms of a creature feature. At 113 minutes, it spends too long making us wait for the attraction named in the title.
Jason Statham is the strongest reason to persist. His Jonas Taylor has a weary confidence that makes the ridiculous danger easier to accept, and his physical commitment keeps the action interesting when the effects cannot. We laughed at his air of having another tiresome job to sort out, even with that animal to contend with. He takes the threat seriously enough for the suspense to work without insisting that we regard the whole enterprise with solemn respect.
The screenplay by Jon Hoeber, Erich Hoeber and Dean Georgaris gives him little help between encounters. Its dramatic stretches ask us to invest in relationships that the dialogue barely develops, while the romance slows a film already prone to hesitation. Li Bingbing gets disappointingly little to work with as Suyin. Rainn Wilson finds some welcome amusement in Morris, but cannot keep the surrounding dialogue lively. The shifts from comic nonsense to earnest feeling repeatedly leave the cast trying to persuade us that a conversation matters when the writing has supplied no reason.
Tom Stern’s cinematography does not consistently make the shark’s bulk felt beside a human body, which is a substantial failing here. The computer-generated creature can command attention without making its movements convincing enough to frighten us. Grant Major’s production design contributes to the glossy finish, although the surroundings have little character of their own. The better encounters concentrate on the person at risk and allow the animal’s size to become a practical problem rather than merely something to look at.
Steven Kemper’s editing finds more tension within individual encounters than across the film as a whole. A passage of shark action can hold our attention, only for the next exchange of dialogue to let it slip away. Harry Gregson-Williams’s score helps the action along, but cannot repair those repeated losses of momentum. By the time the film returns to danger, it has often given itself unnecessary work to do in recovering our attention.
The 12A certificate is no excuse for the shortage of fear. A shark thriller can make us dread an approach, a pause or the space around a swimmer without showing much injury, but this one rarely sustains that dread. Its few taut encounters show that Jon Turteltaub can make the ridiculous threatening when he keeps the action simple. Too much of the rest seems cautious about both frightening us and letting the absurdity become properly funny.
Anyone drawn mainly by Jason Statham may find enough to justify the quieter stretches. Expect neither sustained suspense nor a comedy that makes the most of its ridiculous premise. If the shark is the deciding factor, our advice is to choose something with fewer conversations.