The Trench cracks wider, unleashing a 150-foot Pliosaurus nightmare—filter-feeder flipped to flesh-ripping frenzy. Jason Statham’s Jonas Taylor, grizzled diver with daddy issues, dives back into retirement’s wreckage when this behemoth breaches the Mariana’s maw, turning tourist traps into titanic tombs. Wu Jing’s Jiuming teams up for tech-twisted takedowns, Sophia Cai’s Meiying (now teen terror) hacks the horror, Cliff Curtis’ Heller anchors the hubris. Ben Wheatley’s lens? Primal poetry: submersible crunches like candy shells, blood blooms in bioluminescent blues, a 65-min Atlantis apocalypse where pressure pulverizes steel and spines alike.

Ends with Statham saddling the beast through an erupting underwater volcano? Chef’s kiss on the chaos—eruptions ejecting apex avengers, legacy’s last laugh. VFX venom pops prehistoric, action arcs absurdly epic.

But here’s the chum: Pure fan-forged frenzy—YouTube concepts (KH Studio’s 4K drops rack millions since July 2024) riff Alten’s Primal Waters (Angel the albino returns?), but no Warner greenlight post-Meg 2’s $397M splash (Wheatley eyes it, Statham’s game). Petition the depths—make it breach. Who’s riding the Pliosaurus?