Biologist and photographer Rob Stewart explores the causes behind the world’s dwindling shark population and attempts to set the record straight regarding the creatures’ reputation as mindless man eaters.

CRITIQUE

Sharkwater is half of a great movie. When he sticks to the facts and works to debunk the myths that surround sharks, Rob Stewart’s documentary is smart, compelling, effective and thought-provoking. But when it turns into a vanity piece, it quickly becomes laughable, with Stewart--and his arguments--losing credibility. The movie is maddeningly uneven, with Stewart’s ego and narcissism too often undermining his intent.

As is pointed out in the movie, the global shark population has dwindled by ninety percent over the past century. This is partially due to the efforts of shark hunters, who’ve attempted to prolong their livelihood by perpetuating the belief that sharks are bloodthirsty predators just waiting to chow down on hapless swimmers. Most of the blame for the decreased numbers, though, falls on the shoulders of the shark fin industry.

In certain parts of the world (primarily Asia) shark fin soup is a delicacy, with the price of a single bowl--somewhere in the neighborhood of 300 or so U.S. dollars--making it an object of prestige. (The fin does nothing to change the flavor of the soup; it only adds texture.) The same cultures have also bought into the notion that sharks are largely impervious to disease, believing that medicinal concoctions derived from shark meat can help prevent cancer and other serious diseases.

The foolishness of those who consume products made from shark meat has made many people rich; the fins are initially sold for pennies on the pound by those who catch the sharks, but those at the other end of the business make millions. (Much like what occurred in this two centuries ago when buffalo were slaughtered for their tongues and the rest of the carcass was left to rot, the sharks caught for this trade have their fins sliced off and are then immediately tossed back into the ocean; one of the most chilling image in the movie shows a finless hammerhead struggling to swim as it slowly sinks to the ocean floor.)

According to evidence presented in the movie, most of the sharks harvested for the fin industry are caught in the waters off South America. They’re caught through a practice known as long-lining, in which miles of hooked line is dragged behind fishing boats, snagging anything it can (several hundred fish can be caught on one line). The practice is illegal, but the governments of the countries involved turn a blind eye as a result of payoffs from Asian mafia outfits (the Taiwanese mafia is reportedly the most powerful and influential when it comes to the shark fin industry).

It’s during the exploration of this business that Stewart’s movie works best. The narrative is clear and forceful, and the cavalier attitudes and barbaric methods of those on every level of the trade make their actions seem all the more deplorable. And after he’s worked the audience over on an emotional level (much of the footage is manipulative as hell, but there’s no denying that it works), Stewart then begins to delve into the more scientific and ecological reasons why sharks are an integral component of life, with the most pointed being their role in maintaining the population level of a carbon dioxide-consuming species of fish: Sharks prey on a fish that itself preys on the carbon dioxide-consumers, thereby assuring the smaller fish aren’t totally gobbled up.         

But it seems that every time he really builds up a head of steam, Stewart goes and inserts a shot of himself standing around shirtless, his hair teased and gelled to perfection. Imagine if you can (this is going to sound strange, but bear with me) an edition of the Discovery Channel’s “Shark Week” hosted by Matthew McConaughey and you’ll have an idea of how such scenes come across. One minute the movie has you ready to take to the streets in demonstration against the senseless slaughter of the poor sharks, then next thing you know you’re seeing something that looks like it’s part of some guy’s audition tape for the next season of The Real World.

The first time I saw Stewart preening for the camera I was immediately taken out of the movie, and the next time I laughed derisively, wondering exactly why the hell he felt it necessary; by the ninth or tenth time I was ready to write Stewart (who, in one form or another, appears on the disc’s artwork almost as many times as sharks do) off as little more than a frat boy dilettante.

Further undermining the movie is a lengthy sequence towards the end in which Stewart, the victim of flesh-eating bacteria, is confined to a South American hospital. As the antibiotics course through his veins, Stewart agonizes, a taciturn look on his face, his shirt open to reveal his chest, not a hair on his head out of place. When he learns the antibiotics have done their job (in turn saving his leg from amputation), there’s a slow-motion shot of Stewart ripping the IV from his arm and leaping out of bed. That really cracked me up, and it’s one of the things I’ll forever remember about Sharkwater, which is unfortunate.

I’ll also never forget the ending sequence of a Speedo-clad Stewart interacting with the very creatures he’s out to save, a sequence that’s shot in a manner that makes it abundantly clear Stewart, not the sharks, is the focal point. How Stewart didn’t realize he was shooting himself in the foot--or why someone else didn’t bother to tell him--with footage such as this is beyond me.

There’s one more aspect of the movie that bothers me, although it’s one many people may be able to overlook. On his trip to South America Stewart tags along with Paul Watson, the founder of the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society. Depending on whom you ask, Watson is either a hero or a terrorist; he and his compatriots travel in a vessel that’s been outfitted with a steel battering ram, which they use to disable or sink ships they find involved in fishing or whaling activities (illegal or otherwise).

To me Watson’s vigilante tactics are one thing, but some of the comments he’s made about the value of human life bring about a rather violent kneejerk reaction on my part. Watson has plainly stated that he believes humanity’s numbers should be pared down to a much smaller number, likening people to a cancer infecting the earth. And his elitist opinions regarding who should be allowed to have children are so calculatingly worded I can’t help but feel Watson would have made a fine addition to Hitler’s inner circle. I personally find it a little hard to swallow a plea for a peaceful coexistence between all life when one of those involved has such selective views on the sanctity of human life.

THE VIDEO

The specs list the transfer as 1.85:1/1080p, but the HD footage (all of the underwater footage and much of the footage shot on Galapagos) is actually presented in its native ratio of 1.78:1, while much of the standard-def footage (shot at 1.33:1) has been fudged to the same ratio. The HD material looks glorious, with beautifully bold and vivid colors that are often wondrous to behold.

The SD material, on the other hand, is generally murky and drab, with an appearance that brings to mind a third-generation VHS dub. To make matters worse, it’s been either matted or squeezed to approximate a widescreen ratio; this is especially bothersome with the “squeezed” footage, which literally looks like someone has stepped on it, squishing the image into an unnatural shape. I realize this effect is a consequence of the mixed media, but it quickly becomes very annoying.

THE AUDIO

The Dolby Digital 5.1 soundtrack is surprisingly alive and immersive; the underwater sequences make excellent use of the surrounds and low end, with the sounds of aquatic life zipping throughout the soundstage. (It’s not really representative of how it would actually sound, but who cares?) As with the video, any audio captured with more arcane equipment is less effective, exhibiting a constricted, hollow quality.

Stewart’s narration (which comes across more like something you’d find in a really bad self-help book or the liner notes of a Yanni CD) often sounds flat and lifeless, although it’s hard to tell if this due to the recording or his delivery (it’s probably a bit of both). Dolby Digital English 2.0, French 5.1, and French 2.0 tracks are also included; English and French subtitles are available.

THE EXTRAS

The Making of Sharkwater (16 minutes) is a straightforward look at the film’s production. Stewart discusses the difficulties in securing financing and talks about the hurdles--legal and otherwise--he and his crew encountered during filming.

Shark Defense Naval Training Film (12 minutes) is the full-length version of a naïve, laughable Air Force-produced survival film from the ‘60s that’s excerpted early in the movie.

What’s billed as a Virtual Underwater Gallery (20 minutes) is a compilation of much of the underwater footage featured in the film.

The film’s theatrical trailer and three TV spots round out the extras.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Sharkwater could have been one of the better documentaries of this decade, but Stewart’s oddball proclivities serve to detract from his message. That being said, here’s the best advice I can give you: rent it for the good stuff, but remember to hit your fast forward button whenever you see Stewart with his shirt off.