Just because a film knows its trash, doesn’t mean it should be forgiven of being so.

Much has been made of Piranha 3-D. Its copious amount of nudity and violence, coupled with a tongue in cheek viral campaign for an Oscar nomination, has seen it become a champion for lovers of lowball genre filmmaking and lauded by critics for delivering on its promise of tits and gore.      

Yet unless Piranha 3-D was running for Schlock Picture of the Year, there is not much worth recommending unless you are a part of the lowest common denominator this film was made by and catered for.

Moronic in every conceivable sense, Piranha 3-D tries to reach the mantle of “it’s so bad it’s good”, but fails mainly due to the fact that it’s full of itself.

Much like the ample amount of silicon breasts featured, this is a film that may be alluring from a distance, yet up close features little substance. With French director Alexander Aja calling the shots, assured is the guarantee of much bloodshed, yet lacking is the wit so desperately needed to make this fish-of-terror story much more entertaining.     

Instead it relies on nostalgia and cynicism to see it through, creating an unforgivably feral, nihilistic piece of exploitation at its trashiest.

As the film opens with Richard Dreyfuss reprising his Matt Hopper character from Jaws, taking in a spot of fishing only to become fish food after inadvertently unleashing a deluge of prehistoric Piranha from their centuries old confines, Aja quickly turns to cheap sentiment to get his audience of side for what is a twisted and unfunny joke of a movie.      

Christopher Lloyd also makes an appearance as the resident scientist, using his Doc Brown shtick as a crutch for the lack of quality writing.

With Spring Break as its setting -that illustrious of American pastimes where the next generation of porn stars revel in sex, sun, and alcohol – there is plenty of flesh for its audience to look upon and those savage Piranha critters to feast on.

Yet while most horror movies (even the bad ones) attempt to draw sympathy for its victims, Piranha 3-D revels in sadistic glee as thousands of teens are torn apart with unparalleled ferocity, turning crystal waters blood red for the adulation of its vulgar audience.    

A sequel has already been green-lit, so the next time anyone complains about the decline in quality cinema, point them towards fans of this foul.