34-years ago this weekend, Steven Spielberg’s unleashed his legendary oceanic horror outing to stunned audiences everywhere — so what better time than now to dive into some of its most notable B-movie ripoffs? This particular batch of retread cinema can be a funny crop of B-movie adventuring. While trolling any number of video chains, viewers are bound to find a surplus of cheap thrillers featuring killer fish and a cast that usually comes in the form of Lorenzo Lamas, Casper Van Dien, or Anthony Sabato Jr. While some of the modern forays into deep-water horror tend to reflect the “smart shark” conceit of Deep Blue Sea, it’s their forefathers in the shark cinema arena that present a more delectable plate of stolen ideas and shoddy FX work, all stemming from the big, bad granddaddy of ‘em all, Jaws.

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It’s been a while since a great big gore-filled gross-out horror comedy hit the scene. With the gonzo days of Peter Jackson far behind him (for the time being), and Sam Raimi resigned to PG-13-land with the otherwise fantastic Drag Me to Hell, big and small screens alike have been missing the hysterical buckets-of-blood days of yore. This could be the reason that so much was made of the Norwegian midnight-film-festival hit, Dead Snow. Upon further review, one has to wonder whether the outpouring of drunken applause was due more to the slapstick-meets-Grand-Guignol nature of the flick than to the manner in which it pulls it off. Make no mistake — Dead Snow certainly delivers the nasty goods, but as it proves, it’s far easier to chop off limbs than chomp on audiences’ funny bones.

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Fellow followers of cinema lost an icon today when it was announced that David Carradine was found hung in a Bangkok hotel under mysterious circumstances. Whatever ends up being the cause of his demise, make no doubt — this was a beloved icon from a fine acting family pedigree whose loss can be felt across the globe. From his early days as Caine in Kung Fu through his legendary years with Roger Corman and beyond, Carradine was a presence who was hard to dismiss. He worked with the likes of Scorsese and Altman, yet is known for his numerous b-movie performances just as much. Though the modern world recognizes him from Tarantino’s Kill Bill series (a role originally slated for Warren Beatty), the actor always seemed to be one you could rely on to bring a certain high standing regard to any role — especially ones that riffed off his wizened tough guy roles of old. Most recently he was seen on the big screen in Crank High Voltage as a horny old Asian gangster whose appearance seemed straight out of Big Trouble in Little China. Carradine fans will miss these kind of wild casting choices that only seem right for this kind of on-screen legend.

But why mope when we can celebrate? Therefore, The All Movie Guide commemorates the immortal man behind Caine with this collection of clips and trailers, starting with his stint in Death Race 2000 — “Frankenstein the legend. Frankenstein the indestructible… Ripped up, wiped out, battered, shattered, creamed and reamed. A dancer on the brink of death. Frankenstein - who lost a leg in 98. An arm in 99. With half a face and half a chest and all the guts in the world…” In the name of Mr. President, America loved you, David Carradine.

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The Wayans family cash in on another genre ripe for parody with Dance Flick, a dead-on-arrival stinker that gets it right comedy-wise one out of 30 miserable tries. If success were based on how many jokes are lobbed at the audience, this movie would be king of dummies. Like choreographed dance moves, Dance Flick’s wisecracks could be counted in three tired steps. First are the worn-out pop-culture references to both music (Britney Spears) and movies (Ray, since it’s so timely), then throw in some racial humor — mostly having to do with the ditzy white girl making her way through an urban school (much of which ends up being aimed directly at the baffled white teen audience). The third step usually has to do with a misunderstanding, resulting in a slapstick moment of violence that, if dragged out long enough, kisses up to a level of absurdity that almost renders it funny. But really, that’s giving Dance Flick too much credit.

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With a name like Fighting, you would think that you’d be in for a rock ‘em-sock ‘em exercise in big-screen brawling with little on its brain other than four-knuckled fist-to-face action. However, what lies at the heart of this picture is far from the silly affair that the title would make it seem to be. If anything, this straight-from-the-streets tale should be called “Talking” — or better yet, “Yawning.” Packing a dramatic punch rather than a violent one, Fighting is a chameleon flick — one that’s been sold in one way, while at the same time harboring a secret dramatic streak with very few surprises up its sleeve. In fact, there’s nothing in Fighting that viewers have not seen before, which would be acceptable if it lived up to its simplistic title — yet it doesn’t. Instead, this low-key production leans on its tepid dramatic muscle, which is too bad, given its better-than-average cast.

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Juiced-up insanity reigns supreme in this follow-up to 2006’s over-the-top Jason Statham action bonanza that has thrown audiences into fist-pumping frenzies. This time, the adrenalized formula is even more unpredictable, with twists, turns, curves, and splurges taking the viewer on a rollercoaster ride unlike any other. No doubt about it, this is the equivalent of free jazz for the ADD-addled American class of cinemaniacs looking for the newest fix of in-your-face entertainment — which means the meek-hearted should not apply. Like a cinematic speedball straight to the jugular, Crank High Voltage proves that this series is the King of No Rules Cinema, a rare film that treats its constituents to an experience akin to a rollercoaster about to go off the rails at any point. Unpredictable, unhinged, and completely unconcerned with whom it may offend, the sequel draws a line between generational gaps of ticket buyers and whizzes in the face of those who aren’t already sold on the exploits of Mr. Chev Chelios, the man with the indestructible heart.

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Just a month and a half after Hollywood butchered the Street Fighter brand, in comes another deathblow to an Asian import — namely, the DragonBall series, this time with underwhelming, but digestible results. Carrying over the comedic aspects of the series was a good first step in giving this adaptation life. Sadly, there isn’t quite enough goofball charm to keep it afloat, nor does the picture deliver big enough blasts of action to keep audiences engaged. The same isn’t quite true for the younger viewers, who will most likely enjoy the proceedings as they karate kick cars in the theater parking lot on the way home. One should give credit to the picture for being a PG-friendly kung fu flick, yet the accolades begin to slide quickly after that. Certainly the franchise’s fans are sure to have a fit over the film just as they balked at the trailer’s first glimpse of what the film business did to their beloved series. To its credit, DragonBall: Evolution is a breezy, lightly entertaining ride that just so happens to be intensely forgettable as soon as the credits close.

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A funny thing happened on the way to the fourth Fast and the Furious installment — the fuel-injected franchise overcame both absurdity (Pt. 2) and a reboot (Tokyo Drift) in order to tap into a bit of what made the first film special to begin with, which in box-office numbers meant bringing back its stars. Considering the downward trajectory that both of their careers took post-FF1, it’s hard to blame Paul Walker and Vin Diesel for returning to the series that made them stars. Frankly, they could have done a lot worse, considering this sequel’s admirable attempt at both delivering action-packed goods and retying their character’s plots together again. Starting off with a high-speed gas heist on the asphalt and moving on to a decent foot chase right after that, the movie sets a quick pace early on and only rests for a bit of emotional brooding, which may or may not be seen as the film’s one downfall. No matter what, it’s safe to say that this entirely acceptable retooling of the franchise makes for a satisfying experience for those who enjoy four-wheeled chases, hot bodies, hot cars, and a tall dose of tough-guy machismo.

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