
Ad on a Poster.
Chuck Klosterman has a story in Esquire magazine called "The 'Snakes on a Plane' Problem: The tragedy of the best-titled movie in the history of film." The truth is, I don't think "SOAP" is such a great title, just a generic one. I can think of a lot of others I think are funnier or more effective or more creative -- from "Eraserhead" to "Beneath the Valley of the Ultra-Vixens" to "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" to "Talladega Nights: The Legend of Ricky Bobby" and the upcoming "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan."
But Klosterman has some smart things to say about "SOAP" and what it means at this point, when it is not yet a movie (and a product that won't be screened in advance -- make of that what you will) but is really only a marketing phenomenon. He writes:
"Snakes on a Plane" is like the Wikipedia version of a movie. A year ago, New Line Cinema planned to change the title to the ultraforgettable "Pacific Air Flight 121," but everyone who cared (including its star, Samuel L. Jackson) freaked out. That reaction was understandable; the one thing everyone seems to agree upon is that "Snakes on a Plane" is a funnier, more expository, paradoxically intriguing moniker.A while ago, I wrote that the problem I had with "SOAP" was that I had heard so much about it (and, really, what more is there to say after those four words?) that I felt like I'd already seen it. Klosterman envisions the movie's -- or, at least, the title's -- appeal as "irony in reverse" -- a picture designed to be cheesy so that the audience can feel superior to it:
If a film never takes itself seriously and originates as satire, everything is different; its badness means something else entirely. "SOAP" doesn't fit into either category: It doesn't take itself seriously, but it's not a satire. It will probably be unentertaining in a completely conventional way. Which, apparently, is what people want. They want to see "Snakes on a Plane" in order to tell their friends that it's ridiculous, even though a) that's the only thing everyone seems to know about this movie, and b) that's been the driving force behind its marketing campaign. It's not a bad movie that's accidentally good, and it's not a good movie that's intentionally bad; it's a disposable movie that people can pretend to like ironically, even though a) it's not ironic and b) they probably won't like it at all. The only purpose of "Snakes on a Plane" is to make its audience feel smarter than what it's seeing. Which adds up, since that's part of the reason people like reading the Internet.What a blessed relief it will be on Friday, when there's actually a movie to respond to. Not that I intend to see it. As far as I'm concerned, it may as well be called "Kitties on a Plane." I just don't think snakes are inherently scary or creepy -- not like, say, "Patchouli on a Plane," the thought of which makes me sneeze and feel nauseous -- although I suppose poisonous ones or constrictors are to be avoided in the overhead bin or the seat pocket in front of you, especially when the "Fasten Seat Belt" sign is illuminated. But I feel like someone should pay me if I have to hear Samuel L. Jackson say that m-----f----n' line again.I wish this movie were still called "Pacific Air Flight 121." Really. That would be so much worse, but so much better.

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So, according to this guy, the movie is designed so that its audience will feel superior to it and will tell everybody how stupid it was. The movie was, uh, designed to suck. It reminds me of when Michael Bay said of his film The Island "I definitely wanted this to be a popcorn summer film." Cringe. Can't we all just make movies with the intent that they will be celebrated and remembered for years to come? Anyone?
I can't wait for "SOAP". All of my friends and I are going to see it. I have absolutely no expectations about whether the film will be good or bad (as I do with most movies I go into), I just want to see it. I feel like a kid going to a candy store thinking about it. Back when "Battlefield Earth" came out a friend of mine and I would go see an occasional "bad" movie, and we chose this. We sat for two hours with the worst headache. We didn't think it would be that bad. But something happened afterwards. We laughed for a good four or five hours about the film, constantly breaking down into tears. Subsequently I gathered groups of friends to go see it. I saw the movie three times with groups of at least ten people who all couldn't believe how poorly the film had been made. We shared the experience.
For me "SOAP" isn't about seeing a good or bad movie, it's about sharing an experience with a group of friends in a way that reminds us of when we were kids and the thought of something so strangely over the top drove us insane with pure joy. I imagine building a plane out of chairs in the living room and forcing my sister to be the snake. That's why this movie seems so exciting to me. The title gives you just the basics and leaves the rest up to the imagination. Like imagining you were in a sewer and giant rats were going to attack you, or in a space ship and alien squids... who knows. I can't wait to see it, good or bad. Though I'm hoping like all movies I go into that it will be better than what it seems.
JE: Phillip, I can't imagine a better description of this movie's appeal to a particular audience. Please let me know what you think after you see it. You remind me of another of my favorite movies, and movie titles, of the kind you describe: "Them!" (Gordon Douglas, 1954). Or, "Giant Mutant Atomic Ants in the Desert"! Yes, we did pretend we were humongous ants, smashing Matchbox cars and tiny plastic Army men...
So... basically it's a Roger Corman movie. Too bad MST3K isn't around anymore.
While watching the "42nd Street Forever" trailer-compilation DVD the other night, I ran across the trailer for Werewolves on Wheels. It was then (well, I'd suspected it before, but this cemented it) that I realized that Snakes on a Plane is merely the latest entry in a long tradition of exploitation hucksterism. Except that in the '70s, they knew how to market these films so that you weren't bloody sick of 'em by the time they finally showed up.
I feel like I should be paid every time I hear "Ask me about my weiner!" in, it seems, every commercial break on every TV show I watch. I've taken to just muting commercials.
I think people are now desperate enough for water-cooler conversation that they'll latch on to anything, even if the joke wears thin after, say, two repetitions. The standard response to "It's going to be bad" that I've gotten is "I know!" in this excited, can't-hardly-wait tone of voice. I don't think they realize what they're agreeing to. This is the kind of movie that's creatively bankrupt enough to add dialogue in because the internet demanded it. Holy cow, okay?
At this point, it hardly matters if SOAP is any good or not. People have bought into the product without actually knowing anything about it. I wonder if Hollywood execs will find this to be the ideal form of marketing? All high concept, no film necessary?
JE: Thank goodness for DVRs. Comedy Central and HGTV are about the only commercial channels I watch regularly, and I only see the ads when I forget I'm not watching live TV.
Klosterman gets into some of the same territory you're wondering about. He writes:
Welcome to the universe of "Snakes on a Plane."
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.But, really, the phenomenon he describes has been standard practice in Hollywood for decades. Test screenings, focus groups -- all these things are simply attempts to reduce risk (the risk of losing money, sure, but mostly the risk of the greenlighting executives losing their jobs). But, as everyone knows, test screenings and focus groups don't really work any better than filmmakers' (or even studio execs') gut instincts when it comes to predicting commercial success. The expense of audience research is just an insurance policy that doesn't pay any claims if it doesn't improve box office, which is an estimated 50 percent of the time. Studio money might be better spent at a roulette table in Vegas, betting on either red or black.
For great titles, how about "Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death"? Can't beat that.
Jim: You’re right. The title for Sasha Baron Cohen’s movie is far better than Snakes on a Plane. (I like Beneath the Valley of the Ultra Vixens better too.)
As for Chuck Klosterman’s article, he admits that he hasn't seen Snakes On A Plane-- in fact, no one has. As you stated, Jim, it is being held back from critic screenings until after its already out there undoubtedly raking in planeloads of cash. And at this point, it almost does feel, to anyone who has been paying the slightest bit of attention over the past few months, like we've already seen the thing.
But this lack of an actual movie to talk about yet doesn't seem to matter, either to clamoring ticket buyers or writers in search of an angle. Klosterman's article at least begins as a consideration of the movie's strange history as a marketing phenomenon and the admittedly ominous implications it has for the future of mass-marketing movies. But then, by the time he gets to “reason two? why this model for marketing is going to be terrible for movies, the article turns into an ad hominem indictment of the movie itself. It’s difficult to disagree with the conclusions Klosterman draws in the second paragraph you quote. There may in fact be a huge portion of this movie’s waiting audience that loves to laugh at “bad? movies in order to feel superior to them or to prove that they know the difference between a “bad? movie and a “good? one. But if Klosterman is basing those conclusions on assumptions about the movie that are drawn from exposure to the same saturation-bomb marketing that everyone else is responding to, and not the movie itself, then he’s just guessing like everyone else.
Klosterman asserts that approaching the movie from an ironic distance “is based on the premise that the bad movie aspired to be good. If a film never takes itself seriously and originates as satire, everything is different; its badness means something else entirely. SOAP doesn't fit into either category: It doesn't take itself seriously, but it's not a satire. It will probably be unentertaining in a completely conventional way. Which, apparently, is what people want. They want to see Snakes on a Plane in order to tell their friends that it's ridiculous, even though a) that's the only thing everyone seems to know about this movie, and b) that's been the driving force behind its marketing campaign. It's not a bad movie that's accidentally good, and it's not a good movie that's intentionally bad; it's a disposable movie that people can pretend to like ironically, even though a) it's not ironic and b) they probably won't like it at all. The only purpose of Snakes on a Plane is to make its audience feel smarter than what it's seeing.?
Suddenly we’re not talking about the marketing so much as the movie itself, and it seems to me that Klosterman “knows? an awful lot about a movie he hasn’t yet seen. It’s this kind of predigested opinion-setting that irks me: “It's not a bad movie that's accidentally good, and it's not a good movie that's intentionally bad; it's a disposable movie that people can pretend to like ironically, even though a) it's not ironic and b) they probably won't like it at all.? This just strikes me as another way of setting oneself above and apart from the movie in order to feel superior to it, but in Klosterman’s case he doesn’t feel the need to employ irony, or even actually see the movie he’s talking about, in order to come to this conclusion.
And what about the segment of the audience that actually hopes that the movie might be good, in the old-fashioned, non-ironic sense of the word, and has a good reason for such an expectation? That’s the group I placed myself in ever since I found out Snakes on a Plane was to be directed by David R. Ellis, who has quietly built up a reputation as an action-horror director-for-hire who actually has a prodigious amount of talent and humor to bring to the table. Fans of this genre who have seen Ellis’s two previous movies, the heady Rube Goldberg gore-fest Final Destination 2 and the crackling, sweat-inducing suspense thriller Cellular, might have good reason indeed to hope that Snakes on a Plane would be something more than intentionally stupid or, worse, unintentionally so.
Jim, you say you have no interest in the movie-- that’s perfectly valid, and a whole lot different than forming an opinion about it based on the marketing. A lot of people I know and respect feel the same way. (I would still recommend those other two films to you, if you have any interest at all.) As for myself, I’ll be there this Saturday night in the hope that Mr. Ellis will deliver his third straight jaw-dropping good time at the movies. And I’ll be wincing as the obligatory cheer rises from the crowd when Samuel Jackson utters that already famous, and not all that funny, line too.
JE: Very good points, Dennis. I, too, get a little uncomfortable when Klosterman starts talking about the movie itself -- althogh, for the reasons cited, we do have reason to believe he's right. That's why I said that, after all these months of marketing, it will be quite interesting to see what people actually have to say about their experiences with the MOVIE. There is always going to be some kind of gap between those who see, say, a movie every two weeks, or once a month, and critics who see four or five or eight a week, and that's something I'd like to explore further. Some people think it leads critics to put a premium on novelty ("Show me something I haven't seen before -- like last week, already!"), whereas less frequent moviegoers aren't as benumbed by the familiar movie conventions or latest tricks, because they haven't been exposed to them as often. To me, once you've seen "Airport" and "Die Hard on a Plane" and "Action Hero President on a Plane" (and so on), there's only so much that can happen on a plane that might be of interest, and snakes just don't seem all that interesting to me, personally. I am reminded of "Green Eggs and Ham": "Would they scare you on a train? Would they scare you on a plane?" (Hmm, I think I'm gonna use that in the plane movie thing I'm writing for RogerEbert.com.)
What it all comes down to, as always, is word-of-mouth. The pre-opening awareness of this movie is through the roof (about 35,000 feet, I'd guess). Not that SOAP needs my ticket money, but if people with similar taste to my own (like you!) tell me it's really good, I'll go see it. So right now, purely as a moviegoer, it's on my "wait for HBO" list. Or maybe NetFlix. Unless I hear differently. So let me know!
"Patchouli On A Plane"! They'll try to change the title to "Hippies On A Plane", or "Pacific Air Flight 420", but that's not... actually, those are pretty good too. I can hear the catch phrase now, spoken by the immortal Sam J.: "Purple m-f-ing haze, all in mah m-f-ing brain!"
I think patchouli smells good.
JE: The amount of patchouli that I've smelled in India didn't bother me; it's the amount some people use here in the states (apparently instead of bathing) that makes me gag and sneeze. I'm probably allergic, but in ridiculously, oppressively heavy doses it does remind me of the smell of freshly unearthed putrefying flesh. I have been seated opposite a New Ager on a Plane, drenched in patchouli, so I was recalling that particular nightmarish experience. I like that Samuel L. Jackson line, though!
I think that film critics are all destined to misunderstand "Snakes on a Plane", for the simple reason that they are, naturally, taking it as a film. This is as if literary critics were discussing a movie based entirely on the script.
"Snakes on a Plane" is a marketing campaign, and a brilliant and entertaining one. Our society is suffused with marketing everywhere, and most of it is manufactured and passive. The SoaP campaign, on the other hand, is a self-aware work that makes the audience feel like a part of the selling itself. It works not because the product is "so bad it's good"; it works because telling people how great "Snakes on a Plane" will be is so much fun. It's a play on the inherent doublethink in mainstream advertising.
Of course this campaign wasn't the studio's idea; they started out making a movie, but at least they caught on. The irony, which I think is obvious to most SoaP fans, is that everyone knows that there is little of value to the actual product. When we laugh, we will be laughing at ourselves.
I'd suggest that critics not even write about SoaP. By virtue of your integrity, you'll just be the guy who is telling all the kids that there aren't really snipes out in the forest. We all know that. It's just not the point.
JE: I think you may be quite right, Timothy. I'm one of the few critics who actually defends the studio's decision not to press screen "Snakes on a Plane." I mean, if they don't think they have anything to gain, from a business standpoint, by showing it to critics, then why should they? They've already got incredible target-audience awareness, and a huge marketing budget, so they don't need reviews to get more publicity. What this means is that most major critics won't write about "SOAP" at all. If it's reviewed, it will most likely be reviewed by freelancers or second- or third-string critics who will go to a matinee on Friday and write about it for Saturday or Monday's paper. That appears to be exactly what the studio wants to happen -- and I don't see why they should be criticized for making that business decision. It simply means more people may be likely to go and see for themselves rather than wait for reviews (although reviews will appear almost immediately on the Internet), or they will hold off until they hear what their friends have to say. Business as usual.
Frankly, I think South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut is a better title than Snakes on a Plane.
I think the true appeal of SOAP is the lack of deception in the title--it promises snakes, and it (I'm assuming) delivers. The movie doesn't lie. In a world full of lies and liars (from Donald Rumsfeld to Barry Bonds), there is something refreshing about something, anything that is honest with the public--even if that honest thing is a crappy August movie.
Troma have also always been very good at these kind of titles (which were obviously more entertaining than the movies themselves). What about "Surf Nazis Must Die", "A Nymphoid Barbarian in Dinosaur Hell", "Chopper Chicks in Zombietown" or "Killer Condom"?
I'm hoping the whole thing is a joke and there are like two or three small snakes on the plane. Like when Jason took Manhattan, but really just killed some folks on a ship.
Timothy Alvin and Michael Heumann are right on the money. The thing about "Snakes on a Plane" I find endearing (as it is, I suspect, with many other people I know) is that despite early reservations the studio isn't even trying to market it as anything other than a trashy, disposable movie made for the sole purpose of duping you out of your money. It is what every Michael Bay film would be without the thin veil of legitimacy draped over them by PR campaigns.
Klosterman says, "It doesn't take itself seriously, but it's not a satire." It is satire, but the satire isn't in the movie. It is the marketing itself, and the target is every other "idiotic and impersonal" summer blockbuster campaign Klosterman fears will be the result of SoaP without realizing they've been par for the course for years.
And for the record: "Dr. Strangelove Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb" might be the best title ever.
For the Record 2: For the Recorder: I really, really wish when "Snakes on a Plane" opens tonight, millions of people will go see it, the lights in the theater dim, the opening credits play, and the words "Just Kidding" appear on screen and the end-credits roll.
I think that everyone in the world has written something about this movie, including myself. Do we not realize that we're feeding the same marketing machine that the majority of us claim to scorn? Whatever, in this day an age its virtually impossible to not be pigeon holed into one demographic or another.
I don't care if this movie is good or terrible, I'm gonna go see it because I love movies and this looks like something that will at the very least be entertaining. Isn't that what movies should be first and foremost? They've already got my $8.50 as far as I'm concerned.
While I'm probably going to see SoaP at some point, I can't help but wonder: if the filmmakers are smart enough to realize they're making a stupid movie, why not just go ahead and make a movie that isn't stupid?
I have no idea what the film is like (and likely never will) but I find the marketing strategy so damned condescending. Insulting to REAL, honest B-movies, not big-budget studio pre-fab facsimiles there-of. The "nudge nudge wink wink" uber-smug factor is off the charts here.
I strongly recommend Criterion's recent release of "Equinox" for a sense of what B-movies/amateur filmmaking is all about. "Equinox" isn't a great film, or even a good film, but it is a REAL honest-to-goodness B-movie (or D-movie, or maybe lower) that was made with passion and sincerity.
And I have nominees for much better titles: Les Blank's "Garlic is as Good as Ten Mothers" and "In Heaven There is no Beer?" and Fassbinder's "Love is Colder than Death" and "Why Does Herr R. Run Amok?"
And I've always been partial to "Sweet Sweetback's Badasssss Song."
Jim, here's a bit of what I wrote at my own blog about "SOAP". I did make the mistake, I think of not seeing the movie with a large crowd. I went at 5:10 and watched with about 20 people in a very large auditorium. There was some of the cultural joy that one expects when seeing a movie such as this on opening day, but not nearly enough. So, you can be certain that everything I write is based on just my own experience and not a shared one...
The setup is pretty typical of any 80’s action movie, in fact the first 20 minutes are. Villain who looks neither menacing, nor acts menacing… nor acts, but has the random topless martial arts training scene in which we hear his laughable explanation about why he chose to put snakes on the plane in the first place - it’s laughable because, come on, how many possibilities could you exhaust before deciding that snakes on a giant air liner would be the best way to go. It would have made just as much sense if the villain’s idea had been to wait for the guy he wanted to off to cross the street and to see if he got hit by a car. It was smart to leave the villain behind once the real film took over.
The screenwriters and director, David R. Ellis, try as hard as they can to make the setup interesting and smart. They strain to. You can see them trying as hard as they can, because they know they really have nothing until the snakes appear anyway. Even Sam Jackson isn’t enough to give the film enough “umph? until his many nemeses appear. He plays it straight, so straight that he is a little boring, but when the snakes show, his performance balances the silliness of the idea well. In fact the human villains are so terribly lame and incompetent that it’s no wonder they would send snakes to do their jobs for them.
This movie would not have worked without snakes. You realize that the moment you see the snakes… it takes awhile before you do, it feels like 30 minutes into it. And when they do it takes awhile for all hell to break loose, but when all hell breaks loose the film becomes a kind of joy to watch. David Ellis, whose pacing in last years “Cellular? made the film much more watchable than it should have been, brings some of the same light to this film. Did I mention that the snakes were vicious? Vicious! Those rascals made me jump more than once, and cringe on several occasions. And Sam Jackson does a pretty good job showing just enough annoyance, disbelief, and resolve to make the film seem somewhat plausible.
What I’m trying to say is that as the film continues, it kind of gets better. Or at least the kind of enjoyable you’d expect from a movie like this. A lot like “Arachnaphobia?, or those old creature features back in the day… “Them? is one I saw on TV as a kid - giant ants. These snakes move a little faster.
The filmmakers know this is a ridiculous idea and they don’t hide it, but they do enjoy themselves with it. And there’s a moment in the film that I wasn’t expecting at all that I really enjoyed. A clever sleight of hand used to enhance a common plot device.
The only real problem with the film is the footage they went back and shot to make it more schlocky and R rated; the sex scene in the airplane stall, the bathroom peeing scene in the stall. It feels like it was part of a reshoot, and doesn’t quite fit into the atmosphere of the rest of the film which was shot with a more serious approach to the ridiculousness around the characters. Of course a lot of the supporting characters (the passengers on the plane) while directed to not over play any stereotype (smart choice in the end) don’t add a lot of dramatic resonance to the film.
Not everyone will enjoy “SOAP?, and you know who you’ll be. It’s pretty obvious. I wouldn’t force anyone to come see it with me.
One thing I always did like about the movie was the poster - taking from the worm arborous, snakes eating the head and tail of each other, entwined, a constant cycle. Clever.
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