Like you, Sebastian Sachs watches everything teed up in his very gay queue, from highbrow, Emmy-winning series and films to decadently sweet reality shows. His only requirement is that whatever he devotes time to is inclusive. In “The Moment,” Sebastian deep-dives on the scene, actor, person, place or thing that fans will never get over. She is the moment. He is the moment. They are the moment. You, dear reader, are the moment.

There are two types of people in the world: haters and those who praise at the altar of Jennifer Lopez. I belong to the latter camp. Since her Golden Globe–nominated performance in 1997’s Selena, she’s managed to maintain a level of relevancy many pop icons wish they could. Some critics attribute her success to her headline-grabbing love life, which, for the record, is rude and sexist, while some naysayers question whether she’d still be famous without her nickname and all the attention paid to her… assets. Yet, there’s no denying J.Lo has an unmatched ability to sell whatever she’s promoting, be it a truly fantastic hit single (“Love Don’t Cost a Thing”) or a fashion line. She’s been in an enviable portfolio of films, including the camp thriller hit Anaconda, which recently hit Netflix.

When Anaconda became available on Netflix in February, I was elated, absolutely prepared to absorb the one movie from the J.Lo canon I’ve neglected to watch more than once. While Anaconda earned J.Lo a 1998 Blockbuster Entertainment Award nomination for favorite actress, it also showcases her brand of charismatic star power, which has seen her lead a slew of subsequent classics, including The Cell, The Wedding Planner, Enough, Maid in Manhattan and Hustlers. 

Columbia Pictures/Everett Collection

In Anaconda, Lopez plays Terri Flores, an acclaimed documentarian intent on finding the Amazon’s mysterious Shirishama tribe. She shares the screen with Ice Cube, Eric Stoltz, Jon Voight, Jonathan Hyde, Owen Wilson, Kari Wuhrer, Vincent Castellanos and Danny Trejo. Spoiler alert: If you’re like me and have the attention span of a squirrel — despite the film only being 90 minutes long — just know that the plot revolves around a documentary crew’s excursion through the Amazon jungle as they battle unpredictable weather, venomous snakes and a villainous snake hunter named Serone (Voight), who’s determined to capture one particularly prized anaconda. Terri ultimately discovers the aforementioned tribe; Serone lets up; all is well.

Anaconda stands the test of time as a comfort watch. I mean, the whole selling point of the movie is getting to watch scary snakes — described as “the most ferocious and enormous creatures on earth” that grow as long as 40 feet — wreak havoc. High stakes! A fun time! Anaconda delivers in action sequences that thrill and might scare younger viewers, but the most precious moments are found in the campy dialogue and the ridiculous speed at which members of Terri’s documentary crew are plucked off and killed. Back when the moviegoing experience revolved around, like, actual theaters, Anaconda was precisely the kinda flick you’d agree to watch with your crew. It practically made the popcorn in your bucket spill everywhere as you found yourself laughing too hard or looking away from a goofy, fantastical animatronic snake.

Thankfully, it still provides that same experience when watching at home. Even with its far-fetched premise, the movie keeps you on the edge of your seat. This is, in large part, because of J.Lo. She may have been a newcomer in the late ’90s, but in Anaconda, she demonstrates her ability to be funny, vulnerable and commanding, all at once. Terri has swag, and J.Lo’s portrayal makes audiences root for her. Casting directors must have loved this performance, one that thrust J.Lo into Hollywood right after the banner success of Selena. It takes a truly skilled actor to believably deliver lines that are so hackneyed they make you laugh.

In one scene, she and Ice Cube — two of three excursion survivors who happen to be people  of color! — exchange dialogue that will tickle anybody’s funny bone. “The tranquilizer’s working. Get him!” J.Lo yells as a sedative used on Serone appears to show its effect, pointing out the obvious to a viewer. Then, Ice Cube narrates what’s literally happening after Cale shoots Serone with a dart: “Damn. The dart came out his back.” Thanks for that, Ice! It’s a whole mess, and I wish J.Lo had returned for the sequel. “You can’t scream if you can’t breathe” was the film’s marketing tagline. And let me just say, this whole viewing experience left me gasping — not so much from the terror but from all the campy absurdities.

There’s an interesting self-reflective meta-moment near the end, too. When it appears there’s no hope for the project Terri set out to make, she says, “The film was supposed to be my big break, but it’s turned out to be a big disaster.” Of course, the movie’s actual ending implies that Terri’s discovery of the lost tribe results in a fantastic scientific windfall. Much like Terri’s win, I can’t help thinking that, while Anaconda may not have found accolades, it still positioned J.Lo as an actor capable of effortlessly delivering a comedic role — even while covered in blood and wearing tanks with cargo jeans. It takes effort to make looking bad look so good. If the film itself were a snake, I’d gladly let it choke me.