I sincerely doubt I could say I’ve mastered my role as a writer without having to have somebody slap me, but I can say this: I think I’ve at least figured out the gist of the job. For me, the column-writing process runs something like this:

Sit at keyboard, open word processor. Stare at screen. Pick at toenail. Repeat.

Inspiration will strike, and I’ll end up writing something like this:

“Sarah Jessica Parker’s face looks like a foot.”

As I’m contemplating the concept of “hairy,” I realize that I just made an involuntary reference to an episode of Family Guy, and I have to delete it. Eventually, though, I manage to think of some new angle to take, or some annoying part of the film to rant about, and, 800 words (and usually about twenty minutes) later, I have a review.

But, that doesn’t seem to be the case this time. I’ve never found myself so confused over my take on a movie as I am now. Allow me to elaborate.

Last Thursday, I went to see the big-budget “B” flick, “Snakes on a Plane.” To say I was looking forward to it would probably be the understatement of the century. The movie generated a healthy amount of pre-release internet buzz thanks to its awkward title and ridiculous premise, and had already settled into its niche as a cult classic before it even hit preproduction.

Odds are, you’re probably already well aware of the story behind the title, and how the internet’s influence made SOAP into what it is, so I’m not even going to bother wasting my precious word count on wasting your time. Instead, I’d like to mull over exactly what it is that makes SOAP so enticing.

Think about it: SOAP was initially made with the intention of being another cookie-cutter action flick, designed as a quick and dirty way to pad the wallets of producer New Line Cinema at the end of another season. Yes, the premise was too stupid to be believed, but they were serious about it.

Then, after the whole debacle involving star Samuel L. Jackson threatening to quit when they tried to give SOAP a real title, word leaked out onto the internet. Responses ranged from utter disbelief in the existence of such a film to unabashed support of this romp into the idiotic. As the buzz continued to build, New Line decided to take the concept and run with it, throwing in some over-the-top gore, Kenan Thompson, cheesy CGI snake effects, and – indeed, the icing on the cake – dialogue so bad that it sounded pulled straight from an episode of “Passions.”

And yet, for this, the epitome of the disaster film, it’s not satirical in the least. Nor is it a comedy. It’s still serious, and seriously bad. New Line refused to release the film to critics because they already knew what the response would be. And yet, I’ve never laughed so hard or enjoyed myself so much at any movie like I have seeing SOAP. For a person in the right frame of mind, this is not the kind of thing to be missed. It’s like the Rocky Horror of action movies; people yell at the screen, applaud at lines (especially “the line,” the one that has come to define this absurd masterpiece that I can’t repeat here due to the expletives), throw snakes and toy planes around in the theater, and generally turn a very one-sided entertainment experience into something rather interactive.

And those are just the matinees. The evening performances are absolutely insane.

But, having basked in the afterglow of this film (and having seen a rather catchy music video played during the credits), a chill ran down my spine. This was a film that made over fifteen million in its opening weekend (which actually comes to about half of its estimated budget). Other studios, probably looking to squeeze as much cash from this trend as possible, may very well follow suit. “Snakes” is a movie that’s meant to be a flash in the pan, and the unwashed e-masses could very well trick Hollywood into thinking that this is the kind of movie the public would like to keep seeing. I’m not quite sure how I feel about that.

Still, I don’t want anybody missing out just because I can decide for myself. Provided you’re of a sound constitution (a couple of deaths, despite being over the top and comical in a “Final Destination” sort of way, may be hard to stomach), and possibly male, gather up your friends and see “Snakes on a Plane.” Forty million bloggers can’t all be wrong, can they?