From Pacific Air Flight 121:
Who would have thunk it? '06 might be the year that SLJ unseats the Jovian Dude in the pantheon of cult films. Sure, The Big Lebowski has spawned festivals and bowling tourneys, has given rise to some of the best lines ever spoken on the big screen ("Nihilists! Fuck me. I mean, say what you like about the tenets of National Socialism, Dude, at least it's an ethos."), and has half of the known universe sipping White Russians.
But, here comes Snakes on a Plane.
Wired calls it the "Best Worst Movie of the Year."
The buzz on the net about this film is tremedous, while the few screen shots out there are simply ridiculous.
Yes, that's Kenan Thompson--current SNL playa and alumnus of Nickelodeon's All That. He's the lunchbox that coined the phrase "Welcome to Good Burger, home of the Good Burger; can I take your order?" God, how I hope snakes are attracted to bling. Like nerds to the internet.
Howabout the run-up the to premiere? You know SLJ will make the late-night rounds: Conan, Letterman, etc. I can see it now:
Dave: I think it's safe to assume that the snakes are gonna bite some people in this film. heeheehee.
Paul: Snakes on a plane!
Samuel: Yes they deserve to die AND I HOPE THEY BURN IN HELL!
right. shoot me for that one.
Act now and get your very own S oa P t-shirt for only $13.50.
Urban Dictionary (dot com) currently lists 6 entries for the expression "snakes on a plane." As you can imagine, I'm sort of partial to the example given under #6.
Guess who's also in the film. No, not Julianna Margulies. Oh wait, yeah she's in there too. Actually, I was talking about David Koechner, a.k.a. Champ Kind of the Channel 4 News Team.
Whammy.
This shit is great. Thank you Indra Jahalani for explaining the appeal of such a film: camp is popularity plus vulgarity plus innocence.
Oh yeah, I made sure to spread the word about the film this week at Copper:
On that note, I'll leave you with a few more pics from the mountain. This first one has Schuyler shouting Geico fo ya moneeeeeey.
Stitch out.
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on Saturday, January 14, 2006 at 7:44 PM.
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I never over-romanticize the French, I assure you. I'm too intimately acquainted for that. Really more of an Anglophile, actually. But Paris must have been amazing back then, and with as literary a name as yours, you might have been Papa's wingman (and even though I rarely imbibe, that doesn't mean we couldn't have gotten drunk on Sidecars together). The "J," as I gather from your blog, foretells your choice of profession precisely. But what's the "T" for?
Alas, I've no middle name to call my own. My mother thought my last name was too cumbersome, all four letters of it. Still, she's always Wright, and no one gets mine right. So I'm a girl without a center.
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