This is the second myth-of-Perseus spin-off I’ve watched this year. The first one (Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief) was made for babies—it was ridiculous, it involved demigod summer camp, it had more words in its stupid title than infinite monkeys with infinite typewriters (hyperbole! Try it!), and it was way, way, WAY more fun than Clash of the Titans. Here’s everything you need to know about this new, fancy-pants, 3-D, decidedly unfun reboot of Clash of the Titans (the original came out in 1981 and starred a mechanical owl): Monsters are awesome; anything that isn’t a monster is not awesome.
For reasons that are not entirely clear, humans are hella mad at the gods. They’re all, “Waaaahhh! Give us more fish to eat!” and “Check out my hubris, yo!” and “Boo-hoo! Quit raping my mom while disguised as a shower of golden light!” You know, shit like that. They stop praying and start tearing down statues, and the gods get PISSED.
Clash of the Titans clearly shot its entire wad on one thing: unleashing the kraken. All the non-unleashing-the-kraken effects look like doo-doo (we glued tree bark to this Lite-Brite and called it a “djinn”!), and all the buildup to the kraken-unleashment is just self-serious, ham-fisted silliness (we wrote down “Perseus, you’re not just part-man, part-god—you’re the best of both” and called it dialogue!). Then you see the kraken. The kraken is cool. Then the kraken is vanquished in two seconds. Then you move on with your life and never think about the kraken again, because the sun is out and you are a human with taxes to do and babies to snuggle and fried chicken to eat and life to live. Nothing personal, kraken. You did your best.