The Misguided Path of the Righteous Man

For the last several years, Samuel L. Jackson's career has been somewhat a running joke. A man who started out as an ice-cool badass has devolved into hired gun who can't turn down a paycheck. Films like Jungle Fever and Pulp Fiction introduced us to an arresting talent who had the potential for a long, brilliant career. But in the late '90s, things started taking an ominous turn. First, we wrote off mindliess fluff like The Great White Hype and Sphere. Then we scratched our heads at Deep Blue Sea and The 51st State. Later, we groaned in pity at XXX and Basic. It was now clear that Jackson was a Hollywood mercenary, accepting any part no matter how small the part or how terrible the premise.

Pacific Air 121 will sink the situation to a new level.

Jackson has signed on to this movie, in which he plays an FBI agent transporting a dangerous criminal on a trans-Pacific flight. Only the plane has a crate filled with poisonous snakes. Oh, and Benjamin McKenzie from The O.C. will be playing the pilot. I wish I were making this up. Does Jackson even have an agent? I really feel the need to storm the production and start screaming "Stop! No, you can't do this!!" as I run around ripping down the set.

Jackson recently tried to defend Pacific Air 121, saying "I like scary movies! The scariest thing you could think of is a crate load of poisonous snakes getting released into the atmosphere on a plane." This tells you everything you need to know about a man who needs to be saved from himself.