Try the Amazon reptile scares in Luis Llosa's ' Anaconda'

Try the Amazon reptile scares in Luis Llosa's ' Anaconda'

By Laksmi Pamuntjak-Djohan

JAKARTA (JP): Absorbing the spill-over from America's
blockbuster summer means we're bracing ourselves for more
disasters (Volcano), aliens (Men in Black), and ... yes ...
monsters. There's something so appealing in the showdown between
man and beast that makes it possible for flicks such as Jaws, The
Relic and Jurassic Park to glut the global market. Sweep the
family crowd.

And rake in soaring amounts of dollars.

Anaconda doesn't veer off the standard MO -- it doesn't need
to, at least for director Luis Llosa (The Specialist). A group of
people sets sail on a noble quest. Sabotage occurs. Nature
(i.e. monster) interferes. Things careen out of control. In
between, there is plenty of blood and gore. False shocks. Sound
effects. Pumped up music.

Why bother with anything other than the simple premise that
gratuity sells? Unlike 'event' movies, Anaconda doesn't have to
splash obscene amounts of money on a contract with Industrial
Light and Magic.

Despite Kari Wuhrer's trilly claim on Star TV that the movie
contains "subtle messages", rest assured there is none, at least
not to my scrutiny.

Apart from an ostensible nod to racial harmony, it pays no
tribute to pseudo-scientific or quasi-political mumbo-jumbo. It
doesn't have the problem of swollen star paychecks - just
assemble a couple of attractive B-grade actors and the job is
done.

It doesn't have to worry about overhyped junketing,
merchandising tie-ins, or even possible cult status. It is a
momentary ride through hell, and that's all there is to it.

The crucial factor, however, is to pick the right monster.
Not many of us are fond of slithering reptiles to start with.

But a definition is still in order and it comes early in the
movie. The Anaconda is not an ordinary snake. It is a man-eating
slithering beast. A humungus man-eating slithering beast, 40-foot
long with a screeching scream that can be heard all the way from
our neighbor's garden.

The Anaconda is not just a ferocious snake. It is a sick snake
which revels in spitting out its prey in order to swallow it
again.

In short, it is not for the faint-hearted.

As a merry band of documentarians plies the Amazon river to
find a lost tribe, the sense of humor is palpable. They're not
overly funny, witty, nor multidimensional, but there is something
comical about the way they display their character quirks. As if
on cue, each is a potential candidate for the giant serpent's
menu.

Moral

Perched on the moral high ground is the quietly charismatic
leader of the pack, white anthropologist Stephen Cale (Eric
Stoltz).

He's the kind of guy you'd like to see more of but doesn't, as
he spends a good three quarters of the movie in a coma. Gangsta
rapper Ice Cube represents downtown LA in cameraman Danny Rich, a
kind of surrogate daddy to film director Terri Flores (Jennifer
Lopez, Selena).

Terri herself is a sturdy and wholesome kind of heroine, with
a close-to-the-ground pluck that explains her eventual survival.

The rest of the crew poses more questionable values. Boat
driver Matteo (Vincent Castellanos) adds some Fabio-meets-Joaquin
Cortez sizzle, although his window-dressing status qualifies him
to die first.

Warren Westridge (Jonathan Hyde), the team's narrator, is the
quintessential pompous Brit (which is enough justification, it
seems, for early termination). Kari Wuhrer further explores the
bimbo territory as the skimpily-clad, flaky production designer
Denise, who is supposed to symbolize sexual promiscuity.

Soundman Gary (Owen Wilson) is the randy American twit who
gets to indulge his raging hormones and gullibility and pays for
it with his dear life.

They're pretty much the United Colors of Benetton on a Boat,
until shady Paraguayan Paul Sarone (Jon Voight) joins by default
and turns the expedition into a personal vendetta against the
Anaconda.

B-Grade

If there is any solace in this observation, the movie doesn't
try to be what it isn't. In short, it is a B-movie and it
resolutely stays that way, which is not to say that it is not
enjoyable.

It is, in its own pedestrian and purely visceral way,
although a lack of pretension doesn't necessarily mean substance
over style. Or logic, for that matter.

Pesky or not, no known serpent kills humans merely for kicks.
Yet this monster just kills and kills and kills, penetrating
every boundary not unlike those super-naturally vicious lions in
The Ghost and The Darkness that you wonder why it cannot just
overturn the derelict river barge during the first encounter and
chow everybody in one go?

Suspension of disbelief, as is required from this genre, is
one explanation. Yet, the answer lies less in a mere observance
of the Save-the-Best-for-Last creed than in the movie's inability
to decide who the real enemy is: the Anaconda or Sarone, who is
just about as slimy as any snake can get.

Jon Voight (Mission Impossible), a swiftly rising symbol of
miscasting, seizes the opportunity with over-the-top menace. He
tries to blend every celebrated Hollywood villain - Christopher
Walken, Gene Hackman, and ... yes .. even Marlon Brando's hideous
Dr. Moreau -- into his Paul Sarone.

Yet what transpires is no King Lear of the snake hunting
world, just a an aging, sleazy, beady-eyed has been with the air
of a man who might just sacrifice himself to a snake only to get
a role in a movie. Any movie.

In fact, so taken up is the movie with Voight's "ethnic"
acting that it leaves hardly any space for suspense. Or
direction, as the Amazon's primal beauty pretty much speaks for
itself.

Flapping about like a leaner and meaner version of Jim Carrey,
the animatronic snake looks...well...animatronic, and is more
cheesy than scary. When it ogles its victims before swallowing
them whole, you'd really like to get a rubber toy version of it
for pranks.

Such is the wonder of Luis Llosa's battle with nature.