What’s in a name? Even Juliet would have to admit, in the end, that names are pretty damn important. So Snakes on a Plane would, were it not Snakes on a Plane called, not retain that dear money-making perfection which it owes to that title. (Sorry, Shakespeare.)
You know Ireland? That place where everyone dresses in green, the only drink available is Guiness, everyone is very sure (to be sure, to be sure), and where if you look a flame-headed man in the eye, you’re libel fer a beatin? No, us neither. As that place exists only in the minds of cigar-toting, fleshy eyed Hollywood executives. And now, also in Leap Year. Hoi ti toy ti toy.