The Leader

While I had never really intended to pay money to see the masterpiece that is Snakes on a Plane, I unwittingly became a victim of its media hype. Once I stumbled upon the website that allowed me to enter friends’ phone numbers and select a few characteristics, causing the computer to generate a personal message from the man, Samuel L. Jackson himself, I couldn’t help myself. Many hours at work that day were spent forcing Mr. Jackson to call every family member and friend, ordering them to go see Snakes on a Plane, “the one summer blockbuster that will take a big, nasty bite outta your butt,” according to the message. It was a fun afternoon, and I enjoyed having Samuel L. Jackson bully my friends into seeing his movie.

But as opening weekend approached, I found myself unwittingly gearing up to see what I knew would be a ridiculous way to spend an evening. Why? Could it be that I was frightened on some subconscious level, knowing that if I ignored his threats, Mr. Jackson would come after me like the recording promised? Or was it that I just couldn’t resist the call of a movie that is actually entitled Snakes on a Plane?

Wondering what to expect from the movie? Exactly what the title implies. FBI Agent Flynn (Jackson) is escorting a witness to testify against a crime boss. The crime boss wants to get rid of the witness and avoid jail time. In order to kill one witness, an entire aircraft full of passengers must be sacrificed. To get past security, snakes are used since they are cold-blooded and apparently can’t be sniffed out by dogs. Add a few pheromones into the mix and voila, a plane full of venomous, hyper-aggressive killing machines (or, as Jackson aptly states, “snakes on crack”).

Panic, hilarity and gore ensue. The effects are passable as snakes pop out of every place imaginable like “jacks-in-the-oxygen-masks.” Through an eerie green “snake vision” camera, we watch these serpents destroy their prey through any conceivable method (including via genitals). Gratuitous nudity, plus graphic violence and obscenities equal 105 minutes of fun.

What I didn’t expect in this equation was the campy flavor and well-paced humor. While obviously an action flick, the film isn’t afraid to be self-depreciating, which is exactly what is needed when the title characters are a bunch of CGI reptiles. The movie turns out to be more comedy than action, and the lightened mood helps audiences enjoy exchanging their cash for chills. You buy your ticket, you take the flight, and if you are willing to suspend your disbelief (and your desire for some kind of redemption), you will be entertained. Even though Sam Jackson might have had enough of “these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane,” this reviewer was surprisingly ready for more. Cheap sequel, anyone?

3 of 5

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