For many people, Anaconda was their first snake movie. While not exactly the first of its kind, this 1997 creature feature reignited a trend. Not since the classic eco-horror cycle had we seen nature acting so viciously toward mankind. Plus, with it being the ’90s, these beasts were capable of more destruction; advances in effects had made their rampages elaborate and grisly.
It only made sense for a box-office hit like Anaconda to then have a sequel. Yes, it took some time for those in charge to put more super-sized danger noodles in our eyeballs, but nevertheless, Anacondas: The Hunt for the Blood Orchid (2004) happened. More surprisingly was the fact that this follow-up premiered in theaters, as opposed to on cable or on video. Until the 2025 reboot slid into view, this was the last time the franchise touched the big screen.
Anacondas was originally envisioned as a creature-run-amok story set in New Orleans. When that novel idea proved too expensive, though, this stand-alone sequel returned to the jungle, albeit a location where you normally don’t find these kinds of snakes in the wild. Using Fiji as Borneo, the movie revealed a thriving population of green anacondas living in Southeast Asia. Like most things here, you just have to go with the flow and not ask too many questions.
In addition to all the anacondas, Borneo’s jungle hides a rare flower that acts as a literal cure-all. The Perrinia immortalis is a floral fountain of youth that proves challenging to both find and procure. The Blood Orchid, if it even still exists, blooms for just a mere sixth months before slipping into dormancy for seven years. Hence the urgency of one New York pharmaceutical company and the general unreadiness of its would-be expeditioners. Not among these six suits and researchers is anyone I would wager is a big Survivor type on the weekends. These muscles are for show, not for fighting snakes.
Thus the need for an action man like Bill Johnson. Here, Johnny Messner plays that toughly handsome expat and jack of all trades whose expertise is necessary to survive the wilds of Borneo. First it’s his sinking rustbucket of a ship that’s suddenly headed straight for a waterfall, then it’s an opportunistic crocodile in need of taming. Before long, Mr. Johnson is all that stands between these American urbanites and some of the most agile snakes to ever slither across the screen.
By the time Anacondas was in the works, Jennifer Lopez’s star had exponentially risen. Casting her in the sequel would have been too expensive, joked director Dwight H. Little. In Lopez’s place were actors whose faces don’t ring a bell to general audiences, although the unmistakably Southern KaDee Strickland would become a wee bit more recognizable after her appearance in The Grudge (2004). Co-star Matthew Marsden, whose character here turns out to be a real snake in the grass, went on to star in actioners, as well as the revenge-horror movie Tamara.
Flanking the ostensible survivors, plus the human villain in waiting, are Eugene Byrd as the comic relief, Nicholas Gonzalez as yet another admirer of Strickland’s part, Salli Richardson-Whitfield as a danger-prone fish out of water, and Morris Chestnut as the exec who spearheaded this journey gone awry. As if the cast wasn’t already large (and attractive) enough, Johnson’s partner is played by Karl Yune.
The second Anaconda was first announced in 2000, but obviously it took some extra time to haul that monster out of the water. Regardless of the changes in staff and the rewrites, there was always one goal in mind; the snake had to be bigger. Much bigger. The emphasis there, including any action related to the snake, apparently didn’t leave too much room for the human characters. Paper thin as they are, though, they are never devoid of personality. What they lacked in star power, they made up for in presence.
After some waiting, we do finally see one of the namesakes in serpentine action. That reveal sends a jolt up the audience’s spine, but the admittedly dated CGI also causes major cringing. Even back then it looked crummy as hell. However, there was a need for speed with the new specimens, and according to visual effects supervisor Dale Dugid, digital was the only way to achieve that. Actual anacondas, by the way, are not anywhere as quick and nimble as the ones found in movies, and they certainly don’t pop out like Piranha Plants.
In the making of the sequel, real green anacondas were deemed too “bizarre and comical” in the face. Take a second to look up one of these snakes, and you’ll likely agree. That less-than-intimidating expression of theirs prompted the first two Anaconda movies to give these creatures facelifts. The ‘97 model is indeed more menacing than its natural counterpart, yet there’s still something goofy about it. Then in the sequel, creature illustrator Warren Beaton totally overhauled the ‘condas so that they would look almost draconian. On paper that’s fine, but the final product is held back by the crude digital execution.
Looking past the questionable VFX, the sequel at least made the smart decision to maintain a steady pace; it never quite offends us with any substantial lulls in the story. The constantly growing presence of the snakes after the first act, along with the characters running around like headless chickens, amounts to some vacuous entertainment. The movie plays things seriously without also taking itself too seriously.
All these years later, Anacondas still plays as an amusing B-movie. Its cultural impact is far less than that of the original flick, and the effects aren’t anything to brag about, but it’s a quick and brainless shot of snake horror that saves you from digging into the absolute dregs of the franchise.
Trust me, things got a whole lot worse after this movie.
