The critics remarks have thus far been venomous, at best referring to this as just another plane old movie. The plot slithers along and the storyline never gains legs. Jackson himself said that he felt constricted in his role.
The story takes place on a boaing.
I surprised this isn't a Segal or Stallone movie. They're box-office poison these days.
Fangs for the ping.
I'll not be a viper dodger, or a Dodge Viper. I'd boa fool to try to wriggle out of commenting after being pinged, so I'll bite.
I recoil in horror at the foul-mouthed promotional use of the F-word. I'd strike that kind of talk, because it's the speech of a water moccasinner and I try to be a gentleman. No skin off my back, though.
Non Moulton Labe. Don't shed your skin or your guns....
Hollyweird is always making an Asp of themselves and this is no different.
Like a page out of hisss-story, Jackson will throw a hissssy-fit while wearing his trademark snakers, and a boa tie, then somewhere in the plot a girl will likely shed a co-Bra adding a sub-plot of an emergency hisss-torectomy.
I don't wish any eel will on this all-wet plot.
But while trying not to be a rattle-tail or scale the plot with slither slather, I'll just play coil and wait for the defanged nonvenomous release while I belly up to the bar.