My best friend was pissed at Snakes On A Plane. She thought it was horrible that they were trying to create a cult classic. That it should be a natural thing that can't be forced.

I tried to explain to her that it was already a cult classic--that they were trying to make sure it stayed that way once people had seen it.

She remained unamused.

I am amused by her disamusement (not a word? frell it!), given that the quality of a film has almost nothing to do with whether it becomes a cult classic or not.

Granted, this is probably the first time it's happened before anyone but the filmmakers have seen it (producer/auteur-supressed films like THE DAY THE CLOWN CRIED aside), but if it wasn't the first time, I wouldn't be surprised.

I'm the only person in my meatspace that's heard of it, and I doubt that's going to change. I think I could talk about it, and all any listener would hear would be Charlie Brown's teacher.

Although, they may have to listen, since I really want to use Bob's Aquinas comparison, attributed of course.

She's an independent filmmaker, and gets kinda pissed at some Hollywood shenanigans. She's in the middle of filming on a shoestring budget (what's the etymology of that??) and is reeling at the amount of money and attention that's being thrown at a movie that's unlikely to be any good.

I tried to explain to her that it was already a cult classic--that they were trying to make sure it stayed that way once people had seen it.

Yeah, I'm sure they didn't intend for it to become the phenomenon that it's become, but they're certainly going to run with it.

She's in the middle of filming on a shoestring budget (what's the etymology of that??)

In the late 1930s, Phineas T. Grantula very quickly ran out of money for his first film, Snakes in a Zoo, and he had to resort to the barter system, trading his shoestrings for location shoots. He very quickly ran out of shoestrings as well, which is when he turned to clubbing people on the street and stealing their shoes. Rather than, say, their wallets. In the end, Snakes in a Zoo was a flop anyway, opening the same weekend as Snakes Not in a Zoo, which made 800,000 nickels on opening night.

In the late 1930s, Phineas T. Grantula very quickly ran out of money for his first film, Snakes in a Zoo, and he had to resort to the barter system, trading his shoestrings for location shoots. He very quickly ran out of shoestrings as well, which is when he turned to clubbing people on the street and stealing their shoes. Rather than, say, their wallets. In the end, Snakes in a Zoo was a flop anyway, opening the same weekend as Snakes Not in a Zoo, which made 800,000 nickels on opening night.

Heh. Shoestring budgets always remind me of how John Waters claimed his early movies (including PINK FLAMINGOS) were financed by shoplifting. Even putting aside the grossout moments, it always looked like he might have been telling the truth.

LATimes story on SoaP [link]

You can probably view the awesome fan-created posters gallery without logging in.

She's in the middle of filming on a shoestring budget (what's the etymology of that??)

The inferior-to-Polter-Cow answer, the only I could tease from the Web:

"The expression may have come from faro (a gambling game), but it isn't recorded until 1904, although 'shoestring gambler,' for a 'petty, tinhorn gambler,' is recorded 10 years or so earlier. 'On a shoestring' suggests that one's resources are limited to the laces of one's shoe." From "Encyclopedia of Word and Phrase Origins" by Robert Hendrickson (Facts on File, New York, 1997).

Snakes on a Plane (Paperback): [link]

I am SO tempted to buy this, mostly because it's written by Christa Faust.

Why isn't White Nights on DVD yet? I would love to be able to fast forward through the plot to see Gregory Hines and Mikhail Baryshnikov dance.