Few things in the world caused me
to titter with delight when I was young quite so much as the name “Lake
Titicaca.” There was a moment in time
when underwater photography was a big selling point for mass media, and people such
as the late, great Jacques Cousteau brought their pure sense of wonder for the
deep into millions of families’ households on a regular basis. In fact, it was through that man that I first
heard this lake’s moniker, so blame him.
After all, what child wouldn’t get joy out of pronouncing two words you
weren’t supposed to pronounce?
Together? In the same word? To my eternal shame, the name still manages
to bring a smirk to my face. Incidentally,
the name “Titicaca” translates (according to some) as “Rock Puma,” and this
only makes it sweeter to a pre-adolescent (and adolescent, and even adult)
mind. “Rock Puma” would be a great name
for a superhero character (and, more obviously, a rock band; apologies to Dave Barry). Nevertheless, Lake Titicaca is a large body
of water, and like all large bodies of water (and some small ones) it contains
mysteries both mundane and exotic. I
mean, who among us can say what truly lies at the bottom of a lake, what
doesn’t want to be discovered, what will resist being dragged out into the cold
light of reason? Even with the most
modern equipment overseen by the most stolid of explorers, some enigmas refuse
to be unraveled. And that’s their charm.
Don McDougall’s The Aquarians
opens with plenty (and I mean plenty) of footage of the ocean depths (courtesy
of Ricou Browning, director of Mr. No Legs but likely better known to
cinephiles as the Gillman from The
Creature From The Black Lagoon [at least in the underwater scenes; the
monster was played by Ben Chapman
for the scenes on land]) narrated with expository parchedness by none other
than Leslie Nielsen. In due course, we are
introduced to Luis Delgado (Ricardo
Montalban), the head of Deep Lab, a research station located five hundred
feet beneath the waves. After an
interminable amount of nothing occurs, Delgado and his lackeys are whisked away
to the African nation of Aganda (which to the best of my knowledge is
fictitious, though I was never any good at geography) to investigate the sudden
death of almost all sea life in the immediate vicinity. The answer to the mystery is intriguing (and
spoiled right in the film’s IMDb synopsis, not that it’s in any way shocking or
all that important to the plot; it’s a straight up McGuffin), but what’s done
with it isn’t.
I’m going to say right off the
bat that I was let down by this film, though it posits enough compelling
aspects that it’s kind of inexcusable. A
group of adventurers cruising around the bottom of the ocean is one of the most
innately exciting premises ever. There’s
tension simply in the surroundings (which could kill you if you walked out the “front
door”), but unlike outer space, the locales (theoretically) are easier to get
to. Add in some espionage goodness, and
you bring in Disaster film elements (something Irwin Allen exploited to the hilt with his movie and subsequent television
series Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea). Further, there are Science Fiction components
like the creation of an artificial gill and a deepwater submersible that’s a
cross between a UFO from Monster Zero
and the Venus Space Probe from what we all know were the best episodes of The Six Million Dollar Man (outside of those
with Bionic Bigfoot, naturally). Montalban proves hands down that he
could carry a feature (with or without a neckerchief), and I found myself
dreading the moments he wasn’t onscreen.
So, how could all of these things
add up to a dry, dull viewing experience?
For starters, there is an overabundance of underwater photography. I get that a large portion of the reason this
was even produced was to showcase such images, but they tend to drag on
aimlessly, becoming a blue-tinted visual drone.
The footage that does have action in it is glacial (more a matter of
physics than anything else, I’d wager), and it’s not exploited properly to ramp
up suspense, at any rate. It’s all very
matter of fact. Outside of Delgado, the cast
of characters are distinguishable as characters in name only. They exist solely to be the jobs they
perform, with little to no differentiation between them (the one standout being
Katherine Woodville’s Barbara Brand,
though this is more due to biological happenstance than anything written into
the script).
Further, the film is focused on
procedure to the point of tedium. Now, I
am a fan of procedure. I love Police
Procedurals, and a good Heist film can thrill me to no end. I am enthralled by the scrutinization of the
details of a plan/crime and watching said minutiae be laid out to the smallest
dust mote. I tend to be myopic in my own
approach to procedures. That’s just
me. Nonetheless, there is no excitement
generated in the procedures in The
Aquarians. It doesn’t hit peaks and
valleys of overcoming and being overcome by obstacles culminating in ultimate success. It is instead the stereo instructions of plot
progression (and I mean that in the bad way).
Even when depth charges are being flung at our intrepid protagonists,
it’s reacted to like plucking a long nose hair: Sure, it stings, but no biggie,
and it has to get done regardless. In
fact, if an enterprising person were to research wasted opportunities in filmed
media, one would be the casting of Walton
Goggins in Django Unchained. The other would be the sum totality of parts
that is The Aquarians. The filmmakers even managed to never have any
direct physical conflict with the bad guys; astounding, since three of the
film’s heroes are very able-bodied young men, and the villains include Chris Robinson, no stranger to
badassery (see Revenge Is My Destiny
for further proof).
The film isn’t empty-headed. It’s simply poorly handled. It has an eco-crusader angle that was big
(and getting bigger) in the Seventies.
It does a nice job balancing its respect for the ocean with its notions
about exploiting it (for the betterment of man, of course). It deals with the perversion of science and
the manipulation of good men for evil purposes.
The potential for the character of Delgado is enormous, as he’s a
clinical prick of a man, but he cares about what he does and the people he does
it with (again, expertly portrayed by Montalban). And
the film wastes all of this. Perhaps as
background noise (along the lines of the Yule Logs stations used to air around
Christmas), The Aquarians could serve
a purpose. Unfortunately, entertainment
isn’t one of them.
MVT: Montalban gets the
dubious distinction. He really does
carry himself with authority, and you believe that he believes every word he
says.
Make Or Break: The Break is
no one scene. It is the aggregate of the
lack of action and lack of personality in the plot and every character engaged in
it (save one; I’m sure you can guess their identity).
