Picture, if possible, a PTSD-suffering plesiosaur escaping towards the open ocean and jumping à la Free Willy over a net barrier, to escape the bombs being fired at it by trigger-happy British soldiers who think it's an invading German submarine.
That, in a nutshell, was The Water Horse. My sister was really excited to see it. Pregnant women should not be allowed to pick movies for their relatives to see in theatres on Boxing Day, amidst dozens of small children. They shouldn't be allowed to drag their Kiwi husbands, either, especially if the guy can't stop laughing loudly (making me laugh) through various parts of the film, much of which was filmed in New Zealand.
The film asked viewers to pretend the tale of the Loch Ness Monster didn't exist until World War II. The famous (and fake) photograph, which I believe was taken in the 1930s, is the center of this very predictable and clichéd storyline filled with bad accents.
I'm still traumatized.
There are, however, images of Ben Chaplin to comfort me...