The Deep (1977)

Rating: D+

Dir: Peter Yates
Star: Nick Nolte, Jacqueline Bisset, Robert Shaw, Louis Gossett Jr.

Let’s start by discussing Jacqueline Bisset’s nipples. They were probably the only thing I knew about the film beforehand, and that’s kinda impressive considering I was only eleven when this came out. But watching the first few minutes… yeah, I can see what the fuss was about. Apparently, the actress was upset by the fuss over the “unauthorized” photos issued before the film was released, and says nobody had any clue until they saw the rushes (which took several weeks by the time film was shipped to New York for developing, then back to the West Indies). Surrrrrrre, Jacqueline. No idea at all that diving in a sheer white T-shirt and no bra could lead to this.

Having seen it, Bisset’s bits are still the most memorable aspect. It’s clear the makers wanted to cash in on the success of Jaws. Adapt a moist Peter Benchley novel, cast Shaw as a salty sea-dog type, and watch the cash roll in. To some extent, it worked, the film being one of the top ten hits that year. But it made barely a ripple in pop culture, unlike Spielberg’s classic. It only cropped up in Film Blitz Towers, because of a conversation where Chris mixed up Bisset and Sylvia Kristel. Whose nipples are not nearly as eye-catching. Probably literally. I will now move on to another topic – perhaps even the movie – before Chris’s eye-rolling achieves escape velocity. 

Diving off Barbados, David Sanders (Nolte) and Gail Berke (Bisset) discover a possible sunken trove of Spanish treasure. But it may also be home to a massive cache of morphine ampoules, from a later wartime wreck on the same site, which are of enormous interest to local crime-boss Henri Cloche (Gossett). However, salty sea-dog Romer Treece (Shaw) intends to make sure no such recycling will occur. He is prepared to blow up the site, rather than let the drugs fall into Cloche’s grasp. Oh, and there’s a nasty predator inhabiting the wreck. This gave me the chance to break out “When you swim in the sea, and an eel bites your knee… That’s a moray”. On multiple occasions. Chris is now filing for divorce, citing mental cruelty. 

But, really, you have to make your own entertainment here, because the film isn’t doing it. The underwater stuff is certainly nicely filmed. This does not, in itself, give it any impetus or reason for existing. Watching people swimming around gets old, considerably before the end, and at 123 minutes, there’s plenty of time to spare. While Yates has a somewhat better handle on things above water level, Cloche makes for a weirdly unthreatening villain, existing mostly in the realm of veiled threats. The movie needs to grab onto the audience quickly, and with the tenacity of one of those eels, like its sharky predecessor. When a few minutes of PG-rated nudity is what people remember most about this, it probably tells you all you need to know.