"Open Water" is the story of a stressed-out American couple that goes to the Bahamas in search of a little relaxation and ends up stranded in the middle of the ocean due to a simple mathematical miscalculation by the scuba boat crew that is leading them on an open water dive. At first jocular and light-hearted, the mood slowly darkens as the characters come to grips with the fact that they may not be rescued.
While the typical shark movie relies on short bursts of intense fin-streaming and flesh-ripping to maintain the audience's attention, in "Open Water" the drama is as much about the deferral of catastrophe as catastrophe itself. We do not witness an epic battle between man and shark, but rather the slow mental and bodily deterioration of the two characters. When the girl sees a shark surface in front of her for the first time and says, "I just can't stand to not know what's under me," she is speaking both practically and symbolically, about a danger that is both immanent and potential.
"Open Water" may disappoint some viewers because it refuses to conform to the conventional wisdom of a successful American film. The last scene before the couple embarks on their ill-fated ocean journey is a case in point. As the camera opens onto a bedroom in which both characters are relaxing on a hotel bed, the guy is under the covers, and the girl is naked. How unromantic! Where is the seductive kissing, the passionate tearing of clothes? After she rolls over and they finally begin to smooch, she hesitates, and says, "I could go either way," sex or no sex.
We hear the husband (and the audience) begging her to go through with it. But she turns away, following her husband's half-hearted efforts, and concludes: "Yeah, I'm not really in the mood. I'm just tired." What? A character in a suspense thriller too tired to have sex?
In this scene, as well as in the rest of the 80-minute film, director Chris Kentis succeeds at what countless contemporary Hollywood filmmakers, in particular shark filmmakers, have failed at, namely, believability. "Open Water" recaptures verisimilitude in its purest sense. The film, shot with a digital camera, has the feel of a documentary; at each point in which the plot could fall back on classic shark film devices, it is guided instead by an earnest attempt at authenticity.
The dialogue is at times banal, but its very banality highlights the poignancy that commonplace language can have in the most extreme circumstances. Like the best Raymond Carver stories, "Open Water" reminds us that language does not have to be ornate to be effective. Whereas the directors of typical Hollywood fare have a tendency to link melodramatic dialogue to dramatic action, Kentis is attuned to the inflections of colloquial speech, and does not allow his characters to commit the common mistake of speaking as though they were in a shark movie rather than in shark-infested waters.
The last five minutes of the movie are a masterwork of contemporary cinematography. As the camera seemingly bobs in the water, we see alternately the blue dawn above the water's surface and the swarm of sharks below it.
From Susan's perspective, we can only surmise what is occurring, and yet we watch, and she watches, because it is our voyeuristic duty to witness horror incarnate, even if it is happening to our loved ones. Her final decision is as enigmatic as it is thrilling. Does she go under in order to escape her fate or meet it head on? Is she merely succumbing, or making a determined resolution? Her expressionless face gives no answer.
The film ends with a shot of the ocean's surface, brilliant with the first sun rays of the morning, completely placid now that the humans are gone. With this ultimate twist, we are faced with the disturbing conclusion that the sharks have won.
This might not sit well with the average shark film enthusiast, accustomed to seeing the last fadeout of the sole survivor, harpoon in hand, bloodied but victorious in ridding the ocean of all traces of shark evil. But this film is not geared to allay our fears about the water while at the same provoking them. At the end, there are no miracles, no heroes, and no deus ex machinas. Just sharks circling under the surface-and open water.