SNAKES ON A PLANE Seen at its first public screening at Hollywood’s Chinese Theater, Snakes was the most exuberantly trashy delight of this summer movie season — and affirmation that there’s no screen actor today who engenders more immediate audience good will than Samuel L. Jackson. But I make no claims for how the film will play three or four weeks out, in the basement of some overcrowded multiplex: Try that at your own peril. Directed by David R. Ellis from a script by John Heffernan and Sebastian Gutierrez, the movie isn’t entirely in on its own joke in the way of the greatest scary-funny creep-out pictures, but it’s the closest thing to a down-and-dirty exploitation quickie Hollywood has churned out in years, and a potent anti-venom to the ever more self-important summer blockbusters with their ballooning budgets and poisonously long running times. Watching the eponymous reptiles slither their way up cabin and down (sometimes with the benefit of green-tinted snake-o-vision), striking at anything and everything that moves, is crass, senseless fun, as is the movie’s inevitable, retributory second half: When Sam Attacks. For the complete review, visit www.laweekly.com/film. (Citywide) (Scott Foundas)