Pål Øie’s Kraken begins with black-and-white newsreels of Norwegian residents describing something swimming in Norway's Sognefjord, the largest and deepest fjord in the world.
Reports vary widely on the specifics, but, as the film later notes, only a tiny percentage of the ocean has actually been explored. With so much untapped potential, one would expect a few surprises to be waiting beneath the surface. For the film, it's best not to.
Marine biologist Johanne (Sara Khorami of Troll 2) returns to the small town of Vangsnes to inspect a salmon farm located near the fjord. Not only is her ex, Erik (Mikkel Bratt Silset), still employed here, but things are made more awkward by the fact that there’s a good reason for the inspection: the farm is using a new technology called “Sonic Lice” to remove parasites from the salmon with sound. As the soulless voiceover states in a suspiciously artificial advertisement played for investors, Sonic Lice “is the future,” famous last words in any creature feature.
Though brief, the opening black-and-white footage is fitting for Kraken, a story as old as time itself. That applies not only to the folklore surrounding the mythical sea beast, but also to the very real willingness of corporations to sacrifice nearly anything in pursuit of profit.
An eco-horror in the vein of The Host (2006), Kraken is yet another monster movie pitting the environment against the greed and recklessness of men in power. That’s because this sonic delousing, when cranked up, has dangerous, bizarre effects on both the salmon and most other creatures within the fjord. Not only is this an acceptable tradeoff for the farm’s corporate owner, Avaldsnes (Øyvind Brandtzæg), but he spends most of the film trying to convince fellow suits from Japan to invest in his sonically scoured salmon, far away from Johanne’s illuminating, intrusive investigation.
It's certainly true that Øie’s film does have its finger/tentacle on the present. Avaldsnes’ daughter, Maria, is a budding activist, the one who prompts Johanne's visit by recording a video of seemingly suicidal fish flopping onto land. But she is immediately put off by Johanne’s reluctance to pull the plug on the operation, reflecting the worries many young people feel as the sky itself so often seems to fall, only for those in power to elicit a trite yawn.
There’s another parallel to be drawn here, however, one less exciting for monster movie hardcores. This review hasn't mentioned the title character yet, and that’s because they don’t properly appear until 15 minutes before the credits roll. For all of its confidence, Kraken is also working against itself; it’s a slow burn at 90-something minutes, constantly pushing the action and the scares and the total reveal of the icky parasites later and later on, but leaning on characters as thin as paper to keep things afloat.
Johanne and Erik are not lacking in chemistry so much as they’re lacking in, well, everything; their story is about as cliché and predictable as they come. Vilde Eide’s script checks off tropes as mechanically as Avaldsnes answering questions from investors, perfunctorily going through the motions.
Our protagonist sighs at a photo taken during better days, and a heartfelt conversation is interrupted by a conveniently timed calamity. Even as the deaths pile up and the dread begins to set in, it’s boredom that remains Kraken's most persistent threat.
A little restraint is not unwelcome, of course; Gareth Edwards’ Godzilla took the same, Jaws-trodden road over a decade ago. But while that film made the wait worthwhile, finding real poetry in Aaron Taylor-Johnson’s first glimpse at the kaiju amid a "Requiem"-scored HALO jump, Kraken doesn’t have the scope or scale to truly impress. Despite the vast and breathtaking beauty of the fjord (which certainly wows in the sunny landscape shots near the beginning), the film’s third-act action unfolds under a cloud of darkness and behind the cover of close-ups, no doubt due to the budget, failing to make ample use of the setting that makes the premise unique.
Even if small in scale, there’s some fun to be had with the Kraken when it does arrive. It’s never explicitly stated whether the marine life is agitated by the serpent’s presence or by the sound emanating from the farm, but, friend or foe, this bear pokes back rather violently.
There’s a fun sequence where, in an air vent, Johanne crawls away from tentacles that always seem to stretch out a few more inches. In subsequent, more Alien-inspired moments of terror, skillful use of silence is punctuated by the violent demise of the stereotypical big bads.
In a world where monster movies typically have a monster running time to match, it’s to be commended that Øie constructs his Minus One minus one or two minutes. It’s not that Kraken is outright awful at anything, or that fans of the titular sea monster won’t feel their blood pressure rise, but this is a film that's forgettable by any metric. That includes the Kraken’s design, still largely hidden even when it does show face, and the ending, which spells out the story's themes in an awkward monologue that’s followed up by some sequel bait. I'll pass.
For a film focused on the environment, it’s unfortunate that much of Kraken is as lifeless as a corpse, struggling to marry its lush, cinematic setting with a worthy story or eye-popping action. If men like Avaldsnes are to be punished, must that punishment be as boring as the crime? Surely there’s a less mediocre, less ordinary way to release this mythical beast.
The film opens Friday, June 12, in select movie theaters, and will also be available via various Video On Demand platforms, via Samuel Goldwyn Films. Visit their official site for more information.