Snakes on a Plane (2006)

DVD, Seattle, WA

September 11, 2007

1/2 / ****

There is a point somewhere in the middle of Snakes on a Plane where one might consider that they are indeed not watching one of the worst movies they have ever seen. The moment involves a grumpy Brit airline passenger tossing a Beverly Hills’ princesses’ pet Chihuahua to a computer generated python with wolverine-like teeth as the rest of the passengers struggle to save themselves and each other. It is a moment, however, that lasts but a split second and is immediately followed by dopey dialogue and the snake all too predictably squeezing the man to death and swallowing him whole. “Enough is enough,” I thought at that moment, “I’ve had enough of these mother fuckin’ computer generated snakes on this mother fuckin’ computer generated plane!” Following that one moment of bizarre entertainment there is enough evidence to put all doubts aside: this movie stinks.

Yes, Snakes on a Plane is as stupendously terrible as you’ve heard, and not in a good way. Those who claim otherwise most certainly haven’t witnessed the glorious ineptitude of Plan 9 from Outerspace, Reptilicus, or even Roadhouse or The Karate Kid Part III. Similarly inept but not even close to as entertaining or humorous as those so bad they’re good cinematic touchstones, Snakes on a Plane is boring, unentertaining, and hardly as dopey-creative as it surely thinks it must be. In other words, simply thinking you’re clever isn’t being clever and this film is a poseur all the way.

In no uncertain terms, Snakes on a Plane is as bad as you’ve heard and most likely worse. Like a deodorant averse, aggressively oblivious president of the Dungeons and Dragons Club desperately trying to win the affection of his high school’s head cheerleader, Snakes on a Plane is a self-consciously desperate act of stupidity. After witnessing a murder on the islands of Hawaii, innocent surfer Sean (Nathan Phillips) hooks up with badass FBI agent Neville Flynn (Samuel L. Jackson) with a plan to testify against notorious terrorist/assassin/something or other Eddie Kim (Byron Lawson). Furious that his empire could come crashing down with testimony from this Australian chump with a bad American accent, Kim hooks up with a venomous snake importer (some actor with a mullet and a trucker cap) whom the FBI knows exactly where he lives with the intention of having the snakes hijack the kid’s airplane traveling from Hawaii to Los Angeles.

Now, one might ask, why not blow up the plane with explosives rather than use them to spring venomous snakes from the cargo hold, but the answer is obvious: this movie doesn’t care about the details. Instead, Snakes cares about showing us the snake’s point-of-view with infrared-like green images, exposed fake breasts (silicon enhanced rather than computer generated) in the lavatory, and all manner of casting where it seems no actor is aware of what type of movie they are performing in. And that, my dear bad movie connoisseurs, is where Snakes fails the most: direction.

While Director David Ellis seems to be all about promoting Snakes on a Plane as a thrill-a-minute exercise in silliness and ineptitude after-the-fact, that vibe hardly comes across while watching the movie. Rather than hunker down with any extremes, essential to any so bad its good film, Snakes on a Plane plays more like a television movie of the week: shiny, clichéd, and boring. The bad edits, the goofiness, the slapstick, it all comes across as forced rather than natural or unintentional sinking the film as soon as it begins. Then again, it isn’t like the actors are taking things too terribly serious either. Like the film, the actors merely go through the motions until the story plays itself out seemingly happy to collect a paycheck while leaving the editor to figure out what the hell to make of this tedium. Disappointing, indeed, and a waste of time even for the most self-loathing B-movie obsessive.

While hoping to find its way into cult classic status, Snakes on a Plane will instead surely disappear into oblivion, hardly a blip on any cinematic radar. An ingenious marketing campaign missing the film to back it up, Snakes on a Plane is so bad it’s bad, simple as that.