Back in college, my Saturday nights were a little less boring after one generous internet installer hooked me up with “complimentary” cable. Mind you, I didn’t ask for this surprise add-on, but I also didn’t let it go to waste. Anyhow, I soon became very acquainted with those Original Movies found on SYFY (née the Sci-Fi Channel or simply Sci Fi).
It was as if the powers that be had come together and made an evening of entertainment that catered to my horror tastes — carnage, schlock, and most of all, monsters. And every so often, that block of niche, unapologetic programming offered an Original that wasn’t quite like the others. Yes, the most dangerous night on television occasionally delivered an enjoyable B-movie like Frankenfish. Even to this day I rewatch it with sincere fondness and pleasure, as opposed to the sense of irony required for other SYFY flicks.
It’s worth noting that Mark Dippé’s Frankenfish turned out more watchable than its SYFY brethren because it wasn’t an in-house production, despite it being labeled a “Sci Fi Original Picture” back then. No, it was first produced by Silver Nitrate Pictures, then acquired by the network for a sort of advance preview. In fact, Frankenfish premiered on SYFY only two weeks before its release on home media, courtesy of Sony/Columbia TriStar. The straight-to-video destination, which appeared to be the original plan of action, was where Frankenfish found its fans.
While Simon Barrett is now best known for penning You’re Next, The Guest, and Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, his first-ever commissioned script was for 2004’s Frankenfish. “I’m glad I got to write a film like Frankenfish, as I did grow up watching giant monster films, and I did my best to make it unique.” And that’s exactly what he and co-writer Scott Clevenger did with this somewhat topical story that’s set in the Louisiana Bayou.
Image: Tory Kittles and China Chow witness some noodling up close in Frankenfish (2004).
Unlike Snakehead Terror, a similar SYFY Original that aired just months earlier, Frankenfish placed its monster in the Deep South rather than in the Northeast. Both movies, of course, were inspired by the 2002 snakehead incident in Crofton, Maryland. However, only Snakehead Terror what-ifs the consequences of poisoning the waters to exterminate these pests, whereas Frankenfish — as well as fellow and future SYFY Original Snakehead Swamp — takes an even more unreal, not to mention farcical, approach.
As dictated by years upon years of Jaws imitators, Frankenfish opens with a mysterious death that needs solving. A fisherman in the Bayou turns up dead, and Tory Kittles’ aptly named character, Sam Rivers, is sent to investigate. This medical examiner was just ruling out voodoo ritual as means of murder in another case, as well as explaining the meaning of “porcine” to his associate, when his superior shipped him off to Otley. Sam is hesitant to go, but his presence is required because the locals in Otley don’t take too kindly to outsiders.
Although primarily shot in Alabama, as opposed to Louisiana, the rural and wet South is a nice change of scenery, especially if you’ve grown tired of similar movies that drop their bestial stars in urban, populous environments. Nevertheless, that theme of danger where you least expect it to be still applies here; these super snakeheads are certainly not native to the Bayou. And before calling the Bayou an unimaginative venue for monster fish mayhem, Frankenfish utilizes its watery location in a fresh and exciting way.
Image: Matthew Rauch discovers the monster had babies in Frankenfish (2004).
In the vein of Anaconda, this movie’s threat lurks beneath the water and comes on land as it pleases. And that land is often nothing more than a small, tight-knit community of shabby houseboats. Production designer Leslie Keel gave that distinct locale some authenticity, adding weight whenever the story’s namesake comes across as too artificial. Frankenfish, while clearly made on a low budget, makes proper use of its stage; it wrings out several effective shock-button moments — this includes someone eating a mutant snakehead’s almost-still-beating heart and the shocking death of another character — and gruesome kills to keep your mind off the fact that nearly an hour of the runtime is spent at these fixed water residences. So what the movie ultimately lacks in significant scene changes it makes up for in pacing and activity.
Horror western Dead Birds, also written by Barrett, shared nearly all of its production team with Frankenfish. The creative overlap included the effects teams; Almost Human handled the practical tasks while DiFarm and Girl Studio covered the CGI. The larger fish prop, which sold in an auction a few years ago, doesn’t see too much screen time, and when it does show up, it’s far less active than you would like. The digital fish, on the other hand, is more dynamic and expressive. This version of Frankie is intimidating, even if it doesn’t look all that real. That said, the visual effects — particularly during the night scenes — are a grade better than what’s usually found in your average SYFY Original.
Frankenfish couldn’t stay afloat without its human cast. Everyone here is one-dimensional yet still fairly defined. Sam is the obvious and capable hero, who’s more expert than everyman. As for Sam’s work partner and biologist Mary, played by China Chow, she is a likable outsider. Then there are those supporting players who prove to be a colorful bunch. K. D. Aubert, as Eliza, is already seeing her great next love in Sam as she quickly realizes her big-city boyfriend (Matthew Rauch) is a dud. Eliza’s possibly mystical mother (Donna Biscoe) couldn’t be happier about that decision, by the way. And flanking the key characters are the quirky neighbors, including two nudists and one loner type, as well as the disposable huntsmen who come in search of these genetically altered snakeheads. Needless to say, a lot of different personalities have gathered in this one unfortunate part of the Bayou.
A title like Frankenfish doesn’t inspire confidence in uninitiated viewers, and anyone who despised Dippé’s take on Spawn may still be feeling sore. Meanwhile, those who have experienced this overlooked creature-feature know rather well how fun it is, once the action kicks in, the titular star emerges from the depths, and the splatter starts hitting the water. You’ll want to come for the monster fish, then hopefully stay to watch it wreak glorious havoc.
Frankenfish is now streaming on Tubi.
Image: Frankenfish (2004).