42 Dreams of Arizona Bay

$10. Price of one ticket to see Snakes on a Plane. Was it worth it? Not in the normal sense. Certainly, the movie was campy, and Without a Map and I giggled and whispered from minute one, enough so that I was sure someone was going to tell us to be quiet. But I think they understood. Anyway, for the amount of laughing and cheering I did, $10 almost might’ve been worth it. I couldn’t have gotten that kind of entertainment from working on my computer, or playing with the cats, or finishing cleaning my closet, all things I might’ve been doing with my time, had I not gone to see Snakes on a Plane.

$14.50. Spent on two “medium” drinks and a large popcorn as part of a value combo. Medium? Is that what they call medium? The medium was so large it didn’t fit in the cupholders. I make it policy to never buy something so big that my bladder will explode during a movie. Especially one where I’m waiting for just one line.

75 gratuitous displays of snakes and snake biting. OK. I made that up. It’s hard to tell how many displays there were. But you can’t have a campy movie with a name like Snakes on a Plane without sex and snakes targeting every part of the body you can think of. Couple having sex in bathroom, smoking a joint, and a woman gets it on the boob. A different guy gets bit in the you know. I saw it coming, I actually hoped it would happen. The whole unpacked theater yelled and laughed when it happened.
I’m not a violent person. I no longer like violent movies like this one. But there’s something funny about seeing a poisonous snake attached to a one-eyed trouser snake. Hilarity ensues.
Fat lady is sleeping, and you see something crawl up her skirt. Given the direction the snakes have already gone, you groan and hope it doesn’t go somewhere. She writhes and moans in her sleep, but you see it crawling over her chest. Let’s hope that’s all it does. And to mix up your snakes, an annoying rich guy stereotype who deserves to get it because he’s a jackass and threw annoying rich girl’s dog at a snake, gets it with a constrictor of some sort. I thought these were poisonous snakes. But who cares what kind of snake, as long as it kills you, I guess.

Logical problems, tons. I could swear a kid that gets a snakebite is bitten on the other side. But I could be wrong. And some people die from their snakebites, and others don’t. A guy gets bitten on the ass. Both pilots die after first flying through an ominous thunderstorm. A guy lands the plane after playing a flight simulator video game. 
A computer-generated snake has lots of teeth, and not just fangs. Constrictor eats a guy, when he’s clearly too big.
But can I fault this movie? It’s not meant to be good. Samuel L. Whoopass Jackson… I mean FBI Agent Nelville Flynn is protecting a lame surfer dude who has the testicular fortitude of your average mouse. But somehow lame surfer dude rises to the occasion.
Whoopass tasers snakes. I think that might’ve made the movie for me.
Why so many different kinds of snakes? Because it makes drama when it comes time to call in the snake expert. If there are so many snakes, then all those bites can’t be treatable.
How in the hell do you smuggle snakes on a plane? Let alone so many? Whoopass must’ve tasered 100, not to mention the ones he beat to death with his willpower. How many snakes do you really need?
It doesn’t make a movie unless there are tons. No reason to make a movie in the first place.

2 inspirational speeches. Whoopass talks down an angry mob of people wanting to know why they can’t go into first class, where it’s just a wee bit safer. For the moment. And Stupid Surfer Dude stands up and explains why in his weak surfer dude voice. 

Stupid situations and cliches, 400. Witness sees brutal murder, and not only does witness see it, but the victim speaks the full name of the killer, and the killer calls the victim Mr. Prosecutor. Most witnesses never get this kind of detail. And, instead of keeping very quiet, Witness Lame Surfer Dude then peels off on his dirt bike so he will be heard, instead of continuing to hide where he has been the entire time.

And there’s still the bathroom sex, the trouser snake, and the main flight attendant (Julianna Margulies, whose best work after ER was an uninspired version of The Mists of Avalon) who is finishing her last flight, and intends to go to law school. Law school! And she and Samuel L. Whoopass share moments of tenderness and strength. He gives her a stirring speech when she is falling apart. He needs her to be strong.
I’m just surprised they didn’t throw in the gratiutious movie kiss. But wait! At the end, he asks her to dinner.
I just hope she doesn’t get a little snake surprise herself.

Multiple Snakes on the Brain. I dreamt about that damned movie. Nothing more brilliant than a marketing campaign that plays off an internet fan base or one that actually gets inside your head. I’m not going to see this movie again. You know people are going to die in unpleasant ways, and you know it’s going to end on a heroic note. No reason to savor the badness mutliple times. The only real surprise is how many people survive to the end. Judging by all the other plot shortcuts, I was sure it would boil down to just the plucky stewardess, the FBI agent, and his witness. That’s how it always ends. As few survivors as possible make it even less plausible. Good for the movie, for keeping more people alive. Granted, they’re still all the people introduced extra special during the beginning. The ones you know will play a focal part because they’ve been outlined in their stereotype.

The best part of a movie like this is that it was meant to be bad, and that gives us permission to laugh. And laugh we did. And shout. And clap. Even in a less-than-packed theater.

And…

one line to make the movie worth seeing.