Summer glides toward us like ocean waves. 

And I have something to say. 

Jaws 3 and The Meg are great shark movies. 

I know, I know. They’re notoriously bad films. Rotten Tomatoes gives them ratings of 11 percent and 47 percent, respectively. 

For reference, Return to the Blue Lagoon, Look Who’s Talking Now — that’s the one where the dogs talk — and Speed 2: Cruise Control are all rated slightly worse than Jaws 3. 

The horror podcaster Mike Muncer joked on The Evolution of Horror that fans of the Jaws sequels are responsible for Brexit. 

Our love for bad shark sequels disrupts politics. 

I mean, that does make us pretty powerful. 

In his “Nature Bites Back” series on The Evolution of Horror, Muncer doesn’t even address The Meg.  

He hates it that much. 

But I beg to differ. 

Hear me out. 

Let’s start with Jaws 3, also known as Jaws 3D because, yeah. There are some pretty bad 3D effects in that movie. 

By bad, I mean good. 

Those effects feel like an afterthought — kind of like Keanu Reeves in Speed 2: Cruise Control. 

The drivers of Jaws 3 are not the sons of Roy Scheider’s Chief Brody. Portrayed as children in the original film, by Jaws 3, they are full-grown adults and the supposed main characters.  

But they’re not. 

The main characters, I humbly argue, are the women the Brody boys date. One is a marine biologist, the other a water skier. 

The movie is set in SeaWorld in the halcyon days of Shamu, before Blackfish was ever a thing.  

Which — if you want a real horror movie, cozy up with that little gem. It’s terrifying, all the more so for being true. 

One of the former SeaWorld employees in Blackfish talks about her astonishment at getting a job there.  

“I thought you needed a degree in marine biology!” she gushes. 

Does she think that because she’s seen marine biologist Dr. Morgan in Jaws 3?  

I don’t know. But I do know Dr. Morgan is a strong character. And a pre-Back to the Future Leah Thompson holds her own as a park water skier Louis Gossett Jr.’s character calls “my pride and joy.” 

Dude, I don’t know why the water skiers are the pride and joy of a fictional SeaWorld that has, you know, killer whales performing tricks.  

But I do know that Louis Gossett Jr. is an Oscar winner, and Oscar winners don’t make bad movies. 

Well, I mean, yeah. Sandra Bullock made Speed 2. But I think we all needed rush hour to hit the water back in 1997. And I think we needed Sandra Bullock to get it there. 

Last year, The New York Times published a piece about the 50th anniversary of the publication of Peter Benchley’s Jaws.  

The Times author suggests the book reflected the country’s social unrest and political tumult.  

The book was released before the August 1974 resignation of President Nixon. But Benchley was a speechwriter for LBJ. He surely sensed, um, something in the water. 

I’d like to build on the idea set forth by The New York Times. Jaws 3 mirrored 1980s society in its own right. More women were entering the workforce than the previous generation.  

I mean, Willie went to college for 15 years when I was growing up, was the breadwinner, and in general kind of a badass. 

In the ’80s, with Willie in school and Indy raising us, all I knew were strong women. Princess Leia. Marion Ravenwood. Dr. Morgan. 

Willie. 

Heck, even my grandmother often threatened to beat Indy with her fake leg. 

You know, lovingly. 

I guess that’s why he kept it? 

Anyway, The Meg is great in a way that doesn’t demand invocation of The New York Times.  

The Meg embraces just how dumb a movie it is. Protagonist Jason Statham all but winks and nods as he growls his way through the film’s sunny blue hues and beep-booping tech. 

It also references the great aquatic movies to which it owes its genetics.  

There’s a tug-of-war between a father and daughter, not all that dissimilar to the original Godzilla. 

There’s an incorrigible businessman whose only motivation is the almighty dollar, a nod to the mayor in Jaws. 

The end of the movie is announced with a simple “Fin” — French for “End.” You might say they stole that from Sharknado. But I’m here to tell you they honor Sharknado, itself a great shark film. 

Even Finding Nemo gets its due when Jason Statham, stroking toward the titular Cretaceous shark, eggs himself on by singing, “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming … ” 

So there you go. Nearly 900 words on why Jaws 3 and The Meg rule. I could write 900 more. 

Instead, I’ll suggest you scoochie poochie your toes away from those ocean waves. 

You don’t want to be my next favorite shark movie.