‘Trainwreck: Poop Cruise’ Recalls a Simpler, Grosser Time in the Obama Era

There is something rather quaint about Netflix’s Trainwreck: Poop Cruise, which chronicles what was supposed to be the Carnival Triumph’s four-day round-trip from Galveston, Texas, to Cozumel, Mexico, in February 2013. It’s a strangely refreshing reminder of the Obama era, when a story like the Poop Cruise — which resulted in no actual casualties — could dominate cable news for days. In the current landscape, we’ve seen a political assassination and the start and end of a war in the span of two weeks, both of which received less coverage than one ill-fated cruise just a few administrations ago. Things really did shift around 2015, and clearly not for the better, because I would love to live in a time when broken toilets on a boat counted as front-page news.

That said, there’s really no need for a documentary episode on the event. What exactly are we reliving here, folks? Do we truly need a father-daughter duo, three women from a bachelorette party, and a guy bonding with his future father-in-law recounting the experience of shitting in a bag (or, in one case, not shitting in a bag)?

Granted, it’s a harmless way to kill time while waiting for season four of The Bear to drop, but it’s also neither particularly interesting nor entertaining. It feels more like an episode of VH1’s I Love the 2010s — minus the Michael Ian Black wisecracks. It’s basically the best talking heads Netflix could find telling us about the time the walls bled feces and urine.

For those blessedly unfamiliar with the event: in 2013, a fire broke out in the engine room of Carnival’s Triumph cruise ship. While the fire was contained, it knocked out all the power, leaving the ship dead in the water. It took nearly four more days before it could be tugged back to shore.

The loss of power made for an uncomfortable experience for paying customers, who were reduced to eating sandwiches and dragging mattresses onto the deck to sleep. There didn’t appear to be any immediate danger to anyone’s life, but without electricity, the toilets stopped working. Passengers could pee in the showers (or, for the men, overboard), but pooping became an issue solved only by red biohazard bags. The ordeal got even worse when the tugboats caused the ship to list, sending backed-up waste sloshing through parts of the vessel.

But again: everyone survived, their cruises were refunded, they were given $500 in compensation, travel expenses were covered, and they even got a free future cruise — though I have no idea why anyone would want to get back on a ship after that. Nor do I understand why anyone would willingly watch this hour-long documentary … except that I did, while eating lunch. So I really have no room to talk.