SoaP

As a kid I loved low-budget monster movies, which aired incessantly on basic cable. Each Saturday, an indie station out of Lorain, Ohio, Channel 43, ran an out-on-the-cheap show called "Superhost." A stout fellow in a Superman costume hosted the show, yukking it up on a soundstage between segments of Godzilla, The Blob, Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, old Vincent Price flicks, Ben, Willard, Creature from the Black Lagoon, et al. Any cold war paranoia freak-out was typical fare for Superhost. Likewise, 70s exploitation, Christopher Lee, and, somewhat anomalously, the occasional Kung Fu film. And of course, from the vaults, Superhost would break out the first wave of horror. The show would nostalgically re-create an old-school movie-going experience, airing a few cartoons and shorts (Abbot and Costello Meet the Mummy, anyone?) between features.

Because of this weening, I fell for the Snakes on a Plane hype. And, yesterday, on my way home from campus, I won free tickets from the local talk radio station for a free, late-night advanced showing, which Nicole and I attended last night. That's right, free and a day before the movie opens! This was the way to see Snakes: late at night; while enjoying free popcorn and radio station t-shirts; and surrounded by fan-boy types who approached the screening like a drunken, participatory experience, hooting at Samuel Jackson's dialogue, rooting for the snakes; you get the picture. And the showing was at a hoity-toity theatre in the suburbs with big huge seats. Very cool.

The cinematography of the film is such that you can't help but groan and shriek while the snakes kill people in original and sadistic fashion. How many ways can killer snakes dispatch innocent travelers? There are lots and lots of ways, folks. Aesthetically, Snakes shares something in common with Christopher Lee/Vincent Price/Kill Bill/Hong Kong ultra-violence. If it weren't so cartoonish, the film would be disturbing. Snakes biting people on every body part you can think of. Slithering into purses and barf bags. And the movie frontloads any and every over-the-top, lowbrow, flashy, exploitative plot device...Kickboxers! Gratuitous sex! Surfer dudes! Oh what fun, lives up to the hype.