Killer Shark (1950)
So obscure is this melodramatic bmovie effort that if you type Roddy McDowell Killer into google it doesn’t preempt the title. And talk about misleading. It’s almost as if this movie had been shot at the same time as Jaws (1975) and the makers attempted to re-market it because it has one scene featuring shark stock footage. Except it wasn’t shot in 1975, but rather 25 years earlier. It’s title is as optimistic as McDowell’s tighty-whitey wardrobe choices. But it is strangely watchable. McDowell is the film’s saving grace, cast as the camp embarrassment to a working-class shark fisherman who has to learn to man-up to save his father’s boat and reputation, he excels as the plucky underdog. And then there’s the rest of the cast, a kind of West Side Story version of Mexican fisherman who perform fight sequences the likes of which Bob Fosse would be proud. And When you’re not enjoying McDowell and his camp crew of seamen you will bask in the glory of their fat, alcoholic ship’s chef Maestro, who is a sheer delight during the movie’s climactic bar fight, which he belly laughs throughout whilst throwing the world’s worst choreographed punches. Now where were we.., oh yes the title, Killer Shark.., this doesn’t happen, there are no sharks. A better title would be Roddy McDowell and a bunch of gay Mexicans in tight white shorts go to bar fights. Would you watch that? I did, and quite liked it.