In our heart of hearts, deep down in our souls, we knew this movie would eventually make the Saturday Afternoon Sweetness list. So let me just start out by saying, on the record, I know this is not a good movie. It’s an awful idea, it’s an awful script, its got awful effects and the finished product is just a stupid-ass movie. But if you’re the type of person who likes to sit back and just enjoy dumb, which I’m assuming you are if you’re reading this column, then this movie couldn’t fit more perfectly into your Saturday afternoon repertoire. I am referring to that seminal summer movie whose pre-release hype went supernova and whose box office performance had roughly the same impact as a hamster fart. I speak, of course, of ‘Snakes on a Plane.’
The half-assed plot that was cobbled together to ultimately put everyone on a motherfuckin’ plane with motherfuckin’ snakes is as follows: a guy witnesses the murder of a prosecutor by a gangster. That gangster now wants that witness dead so he can’t testify against him. So he decides that the best way to get the witness is on the motherfuckin’ plane that is taking him to the case. And the best way to kill him on that motherfuckin’ plane is to give every passenger a lei that is laced with a pheromone that drives motherfuckin’ snakes into a blind rage. Then, put motherfuckin’ snakes on the motherfuckin’ plane. And for the rest of the movie, Mr. Samuel L. Jackson as one of the FBI agents escorting the witness, has to try to get those motherfuckin’ snakes off that motherfuckin’ plane. And zaniness ensues as they try to get to their destination and, at the same time, have some sort of half-assed tension building with a whole “race for the antidote” subplot.
I don’t know who decided to greenlight this movie. But I do know that the fact that it moved forward must have been completely due to the fact that it was a vehicle for Samuel L. Jackson to be Samuel L. Jackson for 80 minutes. This movie is bad. But it’s so bad it’s good. As it turns out, putting snakes on a plane can give writers all sorts of wacky ideas as to how snakes would attack people, where they would attack from and the various body parts a snake would attack if they were all hopped up on pheromones and let loose on a plane. The snakes were very creative in their initial attack. My favorite snake attack scene happened to the annoying couple joining the mile high club in the bathroom. It set Samuel L. Jackson up to use the phrase “snakes on a titty” during the press tour to promote the film. But don’t worry, ladies, ‘Snakes on a Plane’ is an equal opportunity film. I crossed my legs uncomfortably as a CG snake attacked a dude’s ding dong. The film has all sorts of snake attacks, inner-tubes and a kickboxing dude who’s set up as some sort of champion so you’re waiting through the entire movie for him to do some sort of kickboxing or something. Guess what doesn’t happen? And really, this meaty stew of bad plot, bad acting, bad CG, snakes biting boobs and wieners and the seminal line, “I want these motherfucking snakes off my motherfucking plane” delivered by Sam (a scene that was clearly added at some point after the movie was completed) makes this movie a Saturday afternoon gem. Oh yeah, and one of the most random endings to a movie I’ve seen in a long time. I mean seriously. I’m not going to spoil what it is because I want everyone who hasn’t seen this movie to have their ‘Snakes on a Plane’ virgin cherry popped by this the same way mine was, but as soon as you watch it you’re brain sort of pops and goes, “What the fuck?” And if it doesn’t pop from the randomness, then perhaps ‘Snakes on a Plane’ is an honest film recommendation for you.
My recommendation: turn ‘Snakes on a Plane’ into a drinking game. The rules are simple: crack out your case of PBR (in cans!), sit down with your friends and drink every time your eyes start to roll into the back of your head. There are few better movies to sit back and get drunk near than ‘Snakes on a Plane.’