Anaconda (2025) Review

Although they seem ubiquitous nowadays, film remakes and reboots are really nothing new. In fact, they go as far back as 1896, when Georges Méliès remade Louis Lumière's 43 second short ‘Partie de Cartes’ as the comparatively expansive 67 second ‘Une Partie de Cartes.’ In the decades since, Hollywood has churned out countless remakes- a few inspired, many mediocre and plenty that never should’ve slithered onto screens in the first place. 

While something of a commercial success upon its initial release, Luis Llosa’s 1997 creature feature ‘Anaconda’ is hardly a film many will hail as their personal ‘Citizen Kane.’ The fact that it spawned four sequels (as well as a 2024 Chinese remake, also known by the far more intriguing title ‘Hundred Poisons Rampage’) will almost certainly come as a surprise even to its biggest fan.

It seems, though, that big snakes are hard to kill, as 2025 offered Tom Gormican’s meta-reboot, the cleverly named ‘Anaconda’. Boldly imaginative title aside, the film’s premise is promising. It follows four middle-aged friends who are all unsatisfied with their lives. After one of them obtains the rights to their favourite Luis Llosa film (guess which one) they travel to the Amazon rainforest to make a low-budget indie remake, only to run afoul of an awfully large reptile they’d previously assumed was fiction.

Much like Gormican’s previous ‘The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent,’ it strives to be a self-aware comedy about movies, blending genres into an action/comedy cocktail. Also, like that generally more accomplished Nicolas Cage vehicle, although it has funny moments, it should probably be a lot funnier. Additionally, its narrative is cliched and predictable, full of convoluted moments and paper-thin characterisation.

Written by Gormican and Kevin Etten, the script suffers from a number of issues. Scenes often repeat the same joke- mostly about the nature of reboots and sequels- without building on it. What is funny once is not the seventh time. The film’s attempts at meta‑commentary rarely amount to more than a knowing wink. Moreover, character motivations shift whenever the plot needs a shove, giving the story a stop‑start rhythm, killing any momentum it tries to build.

One running gag involves the characters insisting that every film needs “to be about something”- that it must have themes, emotional depth and meaningful character arcs. In response, ‘Anaconda’ dutifully bolts on a pointless gold‑mining subplot and hands each of its four leads a neatly labelled backstory: the family man, the failing actor, the recent divorcé, the addict. It’s meant to be a joke about Hollywood’s formulaic approach to character development, but Gormican plays it so straight- and with so little insight- that it ends up proving the point rather than parodying it.

The film invites comparison to ‘Tropic Thunder’, another story about actors making a movie who stumble into real danger without realising it. Where Ben Stiller’s film had genuine bite- skewering Hollywood ego, excess and cluelessness with gleeful savagery- Gormican’s reboot settles for gentle self‑awareness. It recognises the cliches of reboots and studio‑driven IP mining, but doesn't sharpen into actual satire, resulting in a film that nods knowingly at the Hollywood machine without daring to sink its teeth in.

To its credit, there are moments when the film briefly finds the sharper, sillier energy it’s reaching for. The film within a film- a shoddy jungle adventure shot with more enthusiasm than resources- should have been featured more, as it’s brilliant. Additionally, the character of Santiago, the snake handler, is a constant delight, and there are plenty of funny lines throughout. However, as a package, these scattered highlights can’t disguise a film that never quite pulls its ideas into a satisfying, consistently funny whole.

On a technical level, the film is competent rather than memorable. Nigel Bluck’s cinematography has a couple of interesting flourishes, though it’s mostly unremarkable and generic. David Fleming’s score, as well as the soundtrack, supports the action without ever demanding attention, while Craig Alpert and Gregory Plotkin’s editing is generally astute- although a few sequences, particularly the recurring jokes, run well past their natural endpoint.

The degree to which it’s successful depends largely on how much you enjoy its main stars, Paul Rudd and Jack Black. The instantly likable duo, who have been charming audiences for decades, make for a good double act. As Griff and Doug, the lead actor and director of the reboot, they aren’t given terribly much to do. However, their chemistry anchors the film. Both deliver well‑judged performances: broad and silly when the moment calls for it, more grounded when it doesn’t.

As their pal Kenny, the always reliable Steve Zahn shines. No-one can play the good-natured buffoon better than he. Every line he delivers lands; he’s the best thing about the film. Rounding out their posse, as Claire, is Thandiwe Newton. Newton’s a strong performer, but the part doesn’t quite fit her- she seems constrained by comedic material that doesn’t play to her strengths. Conversely, Selton Mello is terrific as the snake-handler Santiago. Like Zahn, he brings a chaotic, over-the-top spark the film desperately needs more of.

In the end, Tom Gormican’s ‘Anaconda’ isn’t a disaster, nor is it the sharp, self‑aware reinvention it wants to be. It has charm, a handful of strong performances and the occasional flash of the sillier, smarter film buried inside. However, for all its winks and meta‑jokes, it never quite finds a comic rhythm or a point of view strong enough to justify its own existence. Much like its characters’ remake, it’s an amiable effort, that never becomes the movie it’s trying to be- neither hysterical nor hiss-terrible. Although occasionally funny, it won’t make you coil up with laughter.