Kiss My Knits!

So last night I had to pop out and get some milk, but I stopped by the yarn store first to see if they had something that was going to be suitable for a certain project. I ran into prostiturtle, who keeps her blog here. She’d had a few beers at the pub next door and come by, because nothing mixes better than alcohol and a fine motor control activity like knitting.

We all started talking about movie theaters, and Cristi and I decided we should go see a movie. Okay, she instigated the whole thing and tried to get me to Snakes on a Plane, which I had zero interest in seeing. No, scratch that, I had negative interest in seeing. I don’t like horror. So 15 minutes before showtime, we decided on “Pretty Woman” which was playing at a theater about 20 minutes away. I called the hubby to be sure this was cool (I hadn’t alerted him that I might be missing bedtime for the kiddo) and he said, I quote, “Go go go!” So we went went went. Love that guy.

I drove prostiturtle‘s fancy-schmancy SUV thing, since she was lightly toasted and my car was full of junk. We went down I-485, and I overshot the exit by at least five miles. We wound up in Matthews, an adjacent town. Oops. turned to me and said, “You realize, of course, that I’m blogging this.” Yeah, yeah, yeah.

So we turned around and found the closest theater to see what was playing. Choices… choices… and finally I said, “what the hell” and we settled on – you guessed it – Snakes on a Plane. She gleefully picked up the tab for the movie and I got the bulk of the snacks. At least that way I’d be able to say, “well, at least I didn’t pay for this.”

Got into the theater just as the previews started. Boy, they play different previews before Snakes on a Plane than they play before my usual fare. And then we sat back and watched as Snakes unspooled.

Where to begin? The acting was, we will generously say, “uneven.” Kenan Thompson? Great. Samuel L. Jackson? Was Samuel L. Jackson. Passengers and bad guys? By and large, AWFUL. And every movie stereotype was covered. Stodgy British guy, man afraid of flying, Asian martial arts villain, fat African-American comic relief, sex-happy ugly fat lady… it was like someone was trying to fill a travel bingo card with stock characters from films throughout the ages. And I must say, if Asian martial arts villain had been speaking in badly dubbed English, it could only have improved his performance.

But it wasn’t just the stereotypical characters, no! It was all the ironic “boy, I hope this flight is uneventful!” talk in the airport, the couple having sex that is punished by film death, the “I was a month from retirement, I had to get in one more trip” flight attendant, and on and on. I was waiting for Lloyd Bridges to pop up and say, “looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue.”

At least I didn’t pay for this.


But here’s the thing. I had a great time! This movie was freaking hilarious! Nobody turned around and gave us dirty looks for cackling when someone would get bitten, so I don’t think we were disturbing anyone. But yeah, we were laughing our butts off. And when Samuel L. Jackson uttered his immortal line, “Enough is enough! I have had it with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane!” we spontaneously outstretched our arms to jab our fingers at the screen, punctuating his words. Yeah, baby!

There were only about 12 people in the theater, but I don’t get why everybody wasn’t rolling in the aisles. Lord knows we were.

In summary, this movie was so bad it was good, and I’m glad I went. So thank you, prostiturtle, for hijacking me to Snakes on a Plane. I’ve had Samuel L. Jackson send you an e-mail and I only wish the website would still let him give you a phone call. We’ll definitely have to go out again.