Actually, shortly after writing that last post, I gave up Snakes completely. I’m not sure I made it much past the introduction of the snakes themselves, not because I have anything against snakes (no, had the premise of the movie been Spiders on a Plane I would not have made it past the root menu–or worse, as Mitch suggested, Spiders on a Boat) but because the movie was just. plain. awful. There’s funny bad, and then there’s sick-and-wrong bad, and Snakes on a Plane definately falls in the latter category.
I’ll openly admit that I have no sense of humor whatsoever about horror movies in general, and that movies where the entire plot consists of gratuituously killing off characters in the grossest, most disturbing ways possible are enough to make me leave the room (or, if possible, the building)–in this case, I ended up in the bedroom with padded headphones on, listening to music and reading Isak Dinesen, while everyone else finished the film.
See, I can handle gross, disturbing scenes in books or well done movies, where they serve the plot and happen maybe once throughout the course of the story (though for some genres, like war movies, I’ll allow that death in large numbers is crucial to the plot, and therefore unavoidable)–I can handle those, just barely, but here is what baffles me: how the hell is watching people die entertainment? Snakes on a Plane is a movie with no plot (oh, that’s right. There are snakes. On a plane), no decent characters, no real emotional attachment on the part of the viewer (in fact, the movie almost encourages you not to connect with the characters, because they’re all going to die anyway), no redeeming value (aside from Samuel L. Jackson–of course the film would’ve flopped completely without him). The film’s sole purpose seems to be simple, unadorned entertainment, as far as I can tell.
Of course the movie is ridiculous, and of course it’s over-the-top–it’s supposed to be charmingly bad, I’m sure–but I get all feisty when a movie’s only idea of plot development is to kill off people left and right in semi-creative ways.
Grumble, grumble. The whole concept of death-as-entertainment just makes me so mad. And sad, too, because it says a lot about our values that we buy this shit.
On a different note, I just stumbled across this bit of trivia, and it made me feel a whole lot better about things in general.