Anaconda Review – Jack Black and Paul Rudd’s magic in a remake of the extraordinary meta-comedy | Comedy movies

AAnyone who’s truly suspicious of comedies that try to make sure they have too much “heart” will be rightly irritated by the opening section of Anaconda, which sheds the skin of the 1997 horror adventure of the same name to reveal a self-referential goofiness in unnecessary reboots. After an utterly hopeless attempt at a cold open horror film in which it becomes clear that director/co-writer Tom Gormican doesn’t have the slightest glimmer of talent for elevating mood, building suspense, or even properly revealing a crazy creature, the film settles down to the real task of any broad comedy: uh, building pathos? After years of working as an aspiring filmmaker, Doug (Jack Black) finds success in his risky job in his hometown as a wedding videographer. Meanwhile, his childhood friend, Griff (Paul Rudd), follows the dream by working as an actor in Los Angeles, but just barely. We see him get fired from a one-line role on a medical show because of his temper, in a scene written for disturbing sympathy first and comedy second.

When the pair reunite for Doug’s birthday, Griff has an after-party surprise: he’s supposedly acquired the rights to remake Anaconda, an eclectic creature feature they loved when they were teenagers. Why not take a chance by filming their own version on a limited budget, and finally make movies together like they’ve always dreamed of? Despite a nagging feeling of responsibility towards his family, Doug eventually warms to Griff’s idea, and their friends Kenny (Steve Zahn) and Claire (Thandwey Newton) join the crew. Soon they are on a boat in the Amazon, dealing with eccentric snake trainer Santiago (Selton Melo) and the mysterious boat captain Ana (Daniela Melchior).

At first, it’s a lot of fun to watch the inherently funny Black and Rudd (who briefly share the screen but never properly co-star) play the poor, underdog dreamers. Shouldn’t these guys be making fun of the ridiculousness of Hollywood reboots, instead of masquerading as ordinary, humble people who never made it? But the best twist on anacondas—and there are many stupid and half-dumb ones—is that their sweetness lasts pleasantly, instead of condensing into juice. Gormican works best in montage and when he lets his stars bounce off each other, so the team’s brainstorming, writing, and preparing sequences for the team’s new take on a giant snake movie (including Rudd and Black’s thoughtful nod to the theme of “themes”) lighten the film, bringing much-needed laughs without sacrificing its essential good nature. Rudd can work wonders with small effects like Griff trying to act cool with a toothpick in his mouth. Black is quieter than usual, but can still invoke his trademark mania when he speaks with great conviction about whether this new Anaconda is a reimagining or a “spiritual sequel.”

Like Gormican’s previous film, Nicolas Cage’s meta-comedy The Unbearable Weight of Colossal Talent, Anaconda sometimes mistakes self-awareness for intelligence – and sometimes mistakes it for seeming simply out of self-awareness. While Rudd and Black Land have genuine laughs, the film around them blows up opportunities left and right, especially when they try to figure out how to push the crew into greater danger when they encounter a snake larger and scarier than the one they use in their film. In Bizarre Cake, the evil character Melchior must appear alternately enigmatic and invisible to keep her plot options open; In the film, her relationship with any other member of the cast is almost impossible to determine, not least because she seems to disappear and reappear at random (although part of the film takes place on a small boat).

Melchior probably suffers from its proximity to the film’s episodic, harrowing attempts to build real tension—moments that feel more like quick outlines of suspense sequences, barely completed storyboards than fully executed scenes. Although the menacing snake is larger than before, with less menacing CG than the 1997 version, this also negates any chance of the animation-based close-ups that gave the previous film a touch of retro magic among the period effects.

However, Rudd and Black make the new Anaconda movie easy enough to accept as a comedy with a dash of effects-based creature action, rather than a full-blown horror comedy. The previous film’s extensive fanbase isn’t necessarily going to have a good time with this film, and Gormican deserves some credit for smuggling a mid-2000s-style studio comedy into theaters under the guise of an IP (a universal wish being shouted at here as well, of course). Anaconda never reached the delirious levels that Steve Martin’s similarly themed comedy Bowfinger did. But it shares more DNA with this movie than some silly giant snake.