I never put anything past the Hollywood marketing machine. In a world full of heartless, soulless, corporate suckers of Satan's cock, the marketing 'people' who work for the major film studios take the cake. If you don't believe me, just click here. The people responsible for this upcoming celluloid abortion need to fall in a well and die.
When I first heard about 'Snakes on a Plane,' it was through a blog post from some Hollywood screenwriting gun-for-hire who turned down a chance to do a rewrite on the script. The post was rather funny at the time, because it was the first time I'd heard about the film, and the jokes he made about the name of the film were fresh.
That post was written exactly a year ago. Since then, ads for this film have been everywhere. Pat Robertson couldn't have shoved Terry Schaivo's feeding tube down her throat any harder than we've had this film shoved down ours. Originally, I had a strong desire to watch the movie, but after seeing all of the marketing behind it, that feeling dissipated into a subtle indifference. The late, great Bill Hicks had an opinion about marketing, and I could never, ever top it, so here's the link, if you're unfamiliar.
However, once in a while, someone in a marketing meeting comes up with a good idea. And this film had someone good working on it, as evidenced here. It's not every day someone gets a call from Samuel L. 'The One That Says Bad Motherfucker' Jackson. Well, at least it wasn't every day, until now, where you could feasibly get a call from him every five minutes or so. Nothing says 'Hollywood marketing machine' like some good old-fashioned overkill!
So, my plan with 'Snakes on a Plane' turned into 'wait until I can see it for free,' as usual. But when I learned that I could see it the night before its official release, and for free, that changed. 'Before release' and 'free' in the same sentence? Well, there isn't much I won't see under those conditions. So I went to see it last night.
Did it live up to the manufactured hype? Well, of course it didn't. Did I laugh? Yeah, I did. The beers I had probably helped, but that's the whole point of a film like this. Don't even think of going into the theater sober. Now, I'm not gonna waste your time discussing the intricate nuances of the plot, or the varying depth of the performances, or the subtle movements of the camera. I can sum all of those things up by saying, 'No, no, and no.' But if you liked Deep Blue Sea, you'll like this. Only difference is, I never felt like anyone in Deep Blue Sea was winking at me while delivering their shitty dialogue.
One last question. Was Mr. Roberts allowed to fly with that thing?