Image courtesy of Columbia TriStar Motion Pictures Group
ANACONDA— 3 STARS
Somewhere in the last ten years, when anyone with a Letterboxd account could be their own critic, we’ve reached a hyperbolic point of tribalism where too many movies are being declared “trash” or “masterpieces” with little to no nuance in between. Add the internet courage fisticuffs of social media communities into it, and we now have this bumpy and problematic “hands down,” “fight me,” or “and I won’t be taking any questions on this” landscape of proverbial hills people are prepared to die on. None of this vitriolic muck is necessary if people could properly define and, more importantly, allow for “guilty pleasures.” 1997’s Anaconda was one of them, and its 2025 quasi-reboot, reimagining, and/or spiritual sequel (depending on who in the movie you ask) hopes to celebrate these necessary declarations of devotion. To that end, a mini-rant is necessary.
LESSON #1: THE NECESSITY OF GUILTY PLEASURES— In a 2016 piece, Den of Geek chose violence, declaring that guilty pleasures was a phrase that deserved to die. This critic and writer will happily push back on that. Everyone is allowed their bunting of freak flags and shouldn’t be shamed for loving what they love. However, some onus and honesty should be put on the lover. Those individuals need to look at the full landscape of the art form to know a beloved movie’s broader place as much as its personal worth, in that those values sometimes are not anywhere close to equal. The guilt is not necessary if you’re honest about what the movie is. Rather than argue about those differences, embrace them within yourself first, and then do the same for others. You get yours. They get theirs. End rant.
Plenty of this is the impossible objective vs. subjective and best vs. favorite arguments, but there’s a middle ground called the two-way street of acceptance. Anyone who watched the Luis Llosa-directed creature feature Anaconda knew they were watching B-movie schlock. That’s why they bought the ticket to see it in the first place in spring of 1997 or nabbed the box to rent at Blockbuster that fall. The fact that the movie was done with thrilling panache and capable technical prowess to become entertaining and rewatchable is what granted it guilty pleasure and “cult classic” (a whole other term worth its own corrective rant) statuses and ratings better than “trash.” It was never going to—nor should it—win legitimate awards. We knew that, and we still loved it. Curiously and frustratingly, too much of the film community has lost the “knew that” part and yelled at everyone who disagreed or had other measures of supposed greatness.
It is safe and even encouraged to return to that place of acceptance with the new Anaconda. Recognize silly stuff done for pure enjoyment. Value it as exactly that, yet allow the flowers to stop there. Not every great time at the movies has to be the Best. Movie. Ever., on par with the true pillars of cinema. Sometimes, it’s precisely the momentary escapism it needs to be, no more, no less. Anaconda understands that limiting bar and relishes in the zone under it.
In this new take, box office studs Paul Rudd and Jack Black play a pair of fifty-something best friends named Griff and Doug. Back in high school in Buffalo, they made an ambitious DIY monster movie with their friends called “The Quatch,” which was an experience that inspired their young Hollywood dreams. In the thirty-plus years since then, only Rudd’s Griff has chased that aspiration, spending years toiling as a background actor with debt and few notable acting credits to show for it. Meanwhile, Black’s Doug settled for a “B-plus” life with his accepting wife (the long-lost Ione Skye of Say Anything…) in the business of wedding videography, where, in the back of his mind, he considers his monotonous creative output to still be “films.”
LESSON #2: THE DREAMS OF FIFTY-SOMETHINGS— While coming back to the Queen City to celebrate Doug’s birthday and gift him a surviving VHS copy of “The Quatch,” Griff declares he has the rights to Anaconda. Twisting the arm of finally going for that unfulfilled dream before it’s too late and the chance to make something to impress his children, Griff convinces Doug and the original filmmaking buddies, Kenny (cringe comedy lightning rod Steve Zahn) and Claire (Emmy winner Thandiwe Newton, immediately classing up the joint), to dream up a dynamite script and sink their money into venturing to Brazil to remake their favorite college-era guilty pleasure. Thanks to a silly line, there’s an air of “what’s waiting for us will change our lives.” Leave it to fiftysomethings to take post mid-life crises to far and expensive lengths with reckless abandon.
After securing a screwloose snake wrangler named Santiago (Selton Mello, in a complete departure from his Oscar-nominated breakout I’m Still Here from last year) and his constricting “snakety snake” BFF pet, our Buffalonians, out of their element, hit the mighty Amazon River with cameras rolling. Straightaway, they find themselves mixed up in a destructive gold-mining pursuit involving their commandeering barge pilot Ava (Daniela Melchior of Road House). Once they hilariously find themselves needing a new star snake after an on-set mishap, our humans find themselves IN Anaconda instead of making it.
LESSON #3: WE MUST HAVE THEMES!— While Anaconda launches the fireworks and bloodthirsty tropes of a proper Creature Feature, leave it to the wide-eyed and gobsmacked personas of Jack Black and Paul Rudd to manufacture put-upon epicness inside the mayhem and hilarity. Speaking like the wise cinephiles they pretend to be, they seek gravitas out by attaching “themes” (and, yes, the quotes are intentional to convey their looseness) to their adventure picture. They merrily commemorate each mishmashed layer as “Now, it’s about something.” The original did it with its National Geographic documentary quest, and so does the new one in its own selectively justifable way. Besides, “who doesn’t love intergenerational trauma” in their monster movie?
Anaconda lunges heavily towards the comedy specialties of the ensemble cast. Directed by Tom Gormican, no stranger to piling on the meta after The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent genuflected at all things Nicolas Cage a few years ago, most of the wow factor in this new film comes from gags more than propulsive reptilian dangers. Raising the stakes and, thereby raising the snakes, means camp more than chomp whirling through the slimy special effects of Frazer Churchill and pounding score for David Fleming (Superman). Those looking for an updated thriller, unafraid to crush more than funnybones, should look overseas to a 2024 Chinese reinterpretation.
To like or love this version of Anaconda is to embrace guilty pleasures because this one, through and through. At its core, this movie is nonsensical and terrible, but there’s a surly and emphatic fun factor to being around the outpoured love for a cult classic. Tributes and the flutters of nostalgia exist for the weirdest things in the oddest places, even for a cheesy 1997 movie that made $65 million after being #1 for two whole weeks. It was a helluva time to be alive then, and it’s helluva time to be alive now to see Anaconda both lampooned with love and gilded with the guts of its many victims…err… fans.
LOGO DESIGNED BY MEENTS ILLUSTRATED (#1363)
