Into The Blue

Frivolous, meaningless, forgettable – the trouble with reviewing something like Into The Blue is that one can scarcely remember anything about it before the credits have rolled. In it’s own stupid, accidental way, it’s as close to amnesia as we’ve come since Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind. The sort of movie where characters whisper sweet nothings like “You know I live here on this boat with you, right?” lest they, never mind the audience, have forgotten such details since the proceeding scene. In fact, this beach-bum adventure may well have been penned with a goldfish audience in mind.
The plot (ha) is The Treasure Of Sierra Madre reimagined with drop-out divers, whom, one suspects, have spent far too much time in the water. Noble layabout Jared (Walker) and his swim-time Barbie girl (Alba) live a lazily idyllic existence in the Bahamas. When old mate Bryce (Caan) and his newfound slapper (Scott) arrive just in time for the discovery of not one, but two sunken treasures, loyalties are duly tested and, in the way of these things, gangsters get called in.
As wet-bikini eye-candy, it just about works. The sea sparkles, the sharks menace, the all-action set-pieces work and Jessica Alba’s belly-bar takes centre stage. But one can’t quite believe that Timmy the Dog would be so clever at treasure finding. No, wait. What was this film called again?