| |
|
Just read the best commentary about this film I've seen so far.
Here's a bit:
"I have not seen Snakes on a Plane, so I have no idea how good this movie is (or isn't). But I do know this: Its existence represents a weird, semidepressing American condition, and I'm afraid this condition is going to get worse. I suspect Snakes on a Plane might earn a lot of money, which will prompt studios to assume this is the kind of movie audiences want. And I don't think it is. Snakes on a Plane is an unabashed attempt at prefab populism, and (maybe) this gimmick will work once. But it won't keep working, and it will almost certainly make filmmaking worse."
...
Much like the Arcade Fire and Amanda Congdon, Snakes on a Plane has become one of those topics that Internet people love writing about, mostly because they feel a sense of ownership over its cultural impact. (This all started when blogging screenwriter Josh Friedman was asked to work on an early version of the SOAP script.) By this point, the film's mere existence has developed an abstract symbolism that suggests the world is unknowable; people now say "Snakes on a plane" in place of "It is what it is" or "Shit happens" or "My wife is a rum-guzzling whore." True story: My friend Jenny is in law school, and one of her classmates went to a movie in April. When the coming attractions started, the first image was of dozens of unsuspecting plane passengers sitting in the cabin of an airborne 757. The moment he saw this, the mischievous law student yelled, "Snakes on a plane!" presumably to amuse and unify the other patrons. Unfortunately, this turned out to be a trailer for United 93, which significantly reduced the hilarity of his outburst. But, hey, you know how it goes. That's life. Snakes on a plane, or whatever. |
|
|
