Me? I’m a snake juggler. Here, throw me this one when I have the other two in the air.
It’s another damn infestation of snakes, and I do mean that literally – every word. Jaws of Satan (1981, aka King Cobra) is another in a long line of earnestly unconscious films about the ongoing hunger of Satan for the souls of humans. In this particular case, he’s taken the form of a king cobra and has invaded some unnamed town via a rail car load of dogs meant for a soon-to-open opening dog race track.
But on arrival, everyone on the train is dead or dying, and at least one displays a most gruesome wound to the face. The doctor in charge calls in a herpetologist, who spends most of his time lusting after the doc. Satan busies himself by influencing the local tribe of rattlesnakes, driving them to distraction with his mean-spirited orders. Meanwhile, the local Catholic priest spends time in the self-doubt lane, a part of the highway overly crowded in this particular genre, and dismisses his monsignor’s claim that the priest’s ancestors were cursed by Druids and therefore he has trouble a-brewin. It’s all superstition to him, a hilarious assertion for a fellow in his line of work.
Meanwhile, the story zigs and zags such that a snake ends up in the doctor’s bed – and then so does another and then so does her knight in shining armor, the herpetologist. Or so I infer from the morning after, which includes a visit from our priest, who seems quite unconscious of the entire hypothetical evening incident. But he’s a little distracted as a local witch, who warned him of trouble coming, is now dead with ghastly wounds as well.
Oh, yeah, a sheriff’s deputy dies, too, but beyond finding the body, nobody seems to notice. Maybe the actor’s vacation day was over and he had to go back to waiting tables.
In any case, in a rather dull climax, they find the king cobra in a cavern, where the herpetologist trips over his big feet and knocks himself out, the doc is offered up on a rocky altar, and they’re rescued by the priest, who sets the snake on fire with a reflection of, ah, holy light.
It’s all fairly shoddy. It’s not just that I’m not partial to supernatural stories of this sort, but the story lacks emotional punch. It relies on grisly death to draw the audience in – and it doesn’t work. The sheriff’s deputy I mentioned, for example, he must have friends, family, even his boss, but he’s not awarded a funeral, mourners, or anything to make his death poignant. He’s just another spear-carrier, and it’s dull, especially since they tried to build his exit scene up. Maybe he ended up on the TV channel’s cutting room floor.
The acting was so-so, or worse, as was the bones of the story. The snakes, at least, all seemed to be real, and the wounds were annoyingly grotesque. But the story didn’t really care about the people, it just wanted to portray Satan coming to getcha.
It’s another dull bit of propaganda, if you want to read it that way.
