From its first-rate exploitation title (although it could have used an hysterical exclamation mark) through to cookie-cutter characters, copious gore and gratuitous flashes of nudity, Frankenfish is a consummate B-movie.
Director Mark Dippé's still no better at telling a story than he was in 1997's dire Spawn but here in the cultural bargain basement that's more of a strength.
Down in the bayou, something big, mean and toothy is wolfing down fishermen and 'gators alike and the small party sent to investigate soon finds itself and a handful of oddball locals on the menu of a shoal of mutant amphibious mudskippers.
Like any good B-movie, it's awash in corny dialogue, thieves most of its ideas from better movies, has an unlikely serious subtext (genetic engineering's bad, m'kay?) and a cast of unknowns meaning anyone can (and does) get chomped.
It's also hilarious (both intentionally and not), has good creature effects and jams enough gung-ho popcorn entertainment into its lean 81 minutes to bear comparison with Joe Dante's 1978 Piranha.
Director Mark Dippé's still no better at telling a story than he was in 1997's dire Spawn but here in the cultural bargain basement that's more of a strength.
Down in the bayou, something big, mean and toothy is wolfing down fishermen and 'gators alike and the small party sent to investigate soon finds itself and a handful of oddball locals on the menu of a shoal of mutant amphibious mudskippers.
Like any good B-movie, it's awash in corny dialogue, thieves most of its ideas from better movies, has an unlikely serious subtext (genetic engineering's bad, m'kay?) and a cast of unknowns meaning anyone can (and does) get chomped.
It's also hilarious (both intentionally and not), has good creature effects and jams enough gung-ho popcorn entertainment into its lean 81 minutes to bear comparison with Joe Dante's 1978 Piranha.