The Python Hunt

This isn’t just some quirky look at an obscure American event and subculture or a love letter to the filmmaker’s home state; it’s a sly indictment of 21st-century America, wrapped up in what looks like a trashy thrill ride. It is pretty thrilling, to be sure, but much like how our intrepid hunters learn that the hunt is much more driving around in the dark than stalking and killing snakes, it’s not what you expect. For both the hunters and the audience, that’s for the best.

Robin doesn’t make a definitive statement about the science of the hunt, but after the audience gets snake-struck, staring into those strange nictitating eyes, they’ll have no doubts about which species is the real mass-murdering interloper.

The movie is a lot of fun and masters a pleasingly detached yet sardonic tone early on, but unfortunately, it doesn’t have a lot more to offer after that, aside from a growing human menagerie of admittedly lively characters and a philosophical through line that’s pretty worn out—something like, “Humans are the real monsters.”

The at times overbearing aesthetic touch isn’t enough to diminish the film’s saliency.