The new Anaconda doesn’t pretend to be a reinvention, a reboot, or even a particularly clever update. Instead, it leans fully into its absurdity, presenting itself as an intentionally silly, self-aware comedy that knows exactly how ridiculous its premise is—and occasionally dares the audience to keep up. Inspired by the so-called cinematic “classic” rather than attempting to redo it, the film plays more like a loving parody fueled by midlife panic, creative delusion, and a fondness for chaos.
Jack Black and Paul Rudd are the clear reason this experiment works as often as it does – which isn’t as often as fans would like. As Doug and Griff, lifelong best friends who finally act on a childhood dream of remaking their favorite movie, they bring effortless chemistry. Both actors have an innate sense of timing, and the film gives them plenty of room to stretch it. Black commits fully, as expected, while Rudd’s deadpan reactions keep scenes from tipping into noise. When the comedy lands, it’s because of their rhythm together, not the material itself.
That said, the story surrounding them is aggressively asinine, and the film never pretends otherwise. The premise quickly escalates from intentionally chaotic to deliberately dumb, especially once the giant anaconda enters the picture. Some gags are cleverly staged and play off the escalating absurdity of a low-budget movie shoot colliding with real danger. Others feel like sketches that overstay their welcome, repeating jokes past the point of diminishing returns. The film’s willingness to double down on nonsense is admirable, but not every joke earns its place.
The film stumbles in its uneven balance between parody and plot. It’s often more interested in setting up the next joke than in building momentum, which makes the stakes feel flexible at best. Even when the threat becomes “real,” the movie rarely lets the tension breathe before undercutting it with another punchline and absurdly ridiculous situation. That approach will work for some viewers and frustrate others.
Ultimately, this Anaconda succeeds less as a narrative and more as a delivery system for comedic timing. It’s messy, loud, and knowingly preposterous—sometimes to its own detriment—but when it hits the right rhythm, it’s genuinely fun. If nothing else, it understands that the joke is the movie itself, and it never stops winking at the audience as it tells it. I want to say it positively delivers, but I simply couldn’t engage.