‘Anaconda’: Meta Mayhem That Commits To The Bit and Barely Survives

Anaconda (2025) is a deeply unserious, frequently stupid, and occasionally fun meta ‘reboot’—though even that feels generous. Another notch on the board of slightly improved but mostly forgettable remakes of cult classics, this one survives—barely—less on reverence than on sheer commitment to the bit.

Directed by Tom Gormican (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent), the spiritual sequel leans hard into self-awareness, sometimes to its benefit and sometimes to its detriment.

The story follows a group of childhood friends, now adults with stalled careers and unfulfilled lives, who reunite to shoot a scrappy ‘reimagining’ of their favourite 90’s schlock, Anaconda. They head to the Amazon, hoping to recapture the joy of making movies together.

Much like the film itself, their plan is half-baked and nostalgia-fuelled.

The fantasy quickly falls apart, forcing the group to confront a giant killer snake and their own simmering resentments, as the movie devolves into a self-aware survival farce.

It’s messy, funny and surprisingly dark. While there are some sweet or mildly dramatic moments, the stakes never feel high and stumbles over any earnestness.

At the centre are Doug and Griff, played by Jack Black and Paul Rudd, lifelong best friends finally acting on a forgotten dream fuelled by midlife panic.

The ensemble clicks instantly with each actor bringing their own clear sense of play.

Steve Zahn is a standout, effortlessly funny and grounding the chaos with reliable character-actor charm as Kenny, a nervous mess and barely recovering drug-addict cameraman.

Selton Mello, though gone too soon, steals the film completely as Carlos, an unhinged local snake handler/warped echo of Jon Voight’s character from the original, making every scene sharper and stranger.

The film also dares to position Black closest to the straight man role, a welcome subversion that mostly works opposite Rudd’s lightly frazzled charm and desperation, even if the film occasionally cannot resist pulling him back into familiar territory.

The rest of the cast serve largely as forgettable characters in the background.

While packed with absurd humour, the film struggles with shape and focus. The plot is thin and predictable, littered with convenient and immediately abandoned subplots. The tone wobbles, unable to decide when it wants to be a comedy and when it wants to flirt with horror, with jarring shifts.

Its play for nostalgia is blunt and painfully hollow, simply gesturing towards affection.

The dad-rock score and soundtrack give some energy but the titular CGI snake is scarce and pretty rough.

The pacing drags early, but once the film hits its final stretch and abandons all restraint, only then does it thrive in its own stupidity, firing off unhinged gags about not-so-dead bodies and more egregious ones about pee shyness among its increasing ridiculousness.

It’s downright goofy, for better or for worse, culminating in an explosive finale with exasperatingly satisfying cameos.

For viewers keen to switch off their brains and fans of almost spoofs or meta comedy chaos—think Tropic Thunder but with zero nuance—there might be something to enjoy. Anyone hoping for something remotely clever would likely be disappointed.

Ultimately, it feels like an internet sketch stretched to feature length. Far from a good movie, this Anaconda meta-reboot action comedy helmed by Jack Black and Paul Rudd feels about right—and occasionally delivers more entertainment than expected for such a limp, thinly realised film.

★★½

Anaconda is in cinemas now.