In which "Stewart Copeland" seemingly mystifies the police while hunting & killing nudie mag models, some of whom already having bad luck in an "I Spit On Your Grave" kind of way.
There's no real reason for the unhinged adoration for this film. The story could have been told in a half-hour cartoon special. Instead, the screen is clogged with a feature-length series of sea life vignettes, half-baked humor, and one exceptional nod to 1979's Alien.
The film truly serves no purpose, other than to bleed money from a nostalgic Pixar audience, hungry to revisit characters they already know everything about. Sorry to disappoint, but aside from the three primary players from…