SXSW '25: Snake wrangling and mans’ folly collide in The Python Hunt

Xander Robin’s The Python Hunt hooks viewers in with an eclectic band of people who hunt down giant snakes, turning it into perfect conduit to examine human tendencies.  A story about a nocturnal python hunting contest becomes a looking glass into human nature, especially as it comes up against the environmental disasters of its own making.

Robin takes obvious cues from the humanistic documentary work that came before him and then adds his own flourishes, with a very character-centric approach that allows the subjects to exist and move freely in their environment, channeling a slice-of-life sensibility. The opening credits even hearken to the hand-painted text stylings often seen in Les Blank’s documentaries. These details, intermixed with sleek nighttime shots and an electrifying score (kudos to Nick León), bring signature touches of documentary styling to the modern age. 

Mr. Toby Benoit | Credit: David Bolen

As done in any of Errol Morris’ or Blank documentary features, Robin rounds up a compelling cast of characters who give insight into a niche culture that illustrates broader aspects of human nature. There are those who flock to the yearly event, which is hosted by the Florida government, not just for the monetary prize, but for a host of personal motives as well. We meet Anne, the 82-year-old, concerningly morbid widow whose bucket list includes pithing the brains out of a Burmese python—for the environment’s sake, of course. The most compelling character comes along in her guide for the week, an experienced python hunter and columnist named Toby, who makes it his sole mission to help Anne achieve her goal. While rugged on the exterior, Toby reveals his poetic sensibilities through his writing, in which he relays his anxieties about potentially failing to find even one python over the course of their trip. 

There’s also Richard, the tourist from San Francisco who enjoys taking a tab of ecstasy before embarking on a late-night excursion. He seems to be on a journey of self-exploration rather than one concretely fixed on the hunt and the $10,000 prize. And on the outside of the competition completely is Florida native Jimbo, who seeks to undermine the challenge and spends most of his time talking ill of those the participants and the bureaucracy behind the event, due to his own banishment from participation. Once hired as a year-round python hunter for the state, he’s now locked out of the industry entirely after, and sets about trolling those still involved in the challenge.  

As this snapshot shows, the Florida Python Challenge brings together people of varying ambitions, some with a naive optimism about saving nature and others who seek to feed a more sadistic need with the temporary license to kill. Watching these differing motives interact with one another on screen is one of the ongoing draws of the film, especially as the hunt proves to be far less action-packed than originally promised, with participants snagging just a handful of snakes over the course of the week. Spirits are low, and the meaning of the whole venture comes into question for many of those involved. Robin uses this lull to effectively uncover the more complex emotional and bureaucratic issues at hand when it comes to the Florida Python Challenge. The Python Hunt becomes an examination of man’s efforts to fix environmental crises through continued extermination—which acts more as a bandaid than a long term solution—while continuing to ignore the much larger, less movable forces at hand. 

People-propelled environmental solutions offer hope to anyone that they can make a change in helping the environment, but like recycling and other individual-based conservation efforts, still exist within a system that causes more damage than any one person can hope to fix. While bands of people are spending days hunting down snakes, Robin shows that others attend council meetings to implore government officials to stop dumping poisonous toxins into the ecosystem they are claiming to help save. Jimbo’s character is used as a lens into the other types of work people are doing to try to save the Everglades from further environmental destruction. Through his perspective, we see how fruitless the challenge is in undoing or preventing the biodiversity decimation of the region. 

As the film goes on, The Python Challenge becomes an apparent superficial event created to fix an issue that can not be solely blamed on the Burmese Python. Some in the documentary put forth the idea that the snake has become an undeserved pariah—a scapegoat to blame all of the Everglades environmental issues on while ignoring the other man-made causes. While these ideas can come fully into view in the film’s 90-minute runtime, The Python Hunt makes compelling arguments while juggling many viewpoints and information. Editor Max Allman keeps the pace of the film moving—leading to some perceived rushes in its 10-day timeline—but manages to distill the event to its most compelling parts.  

Like Jimbo, it’s hard not to feel gutted by the reality of the situation for the lush marshes of Florida, which is undergoing a man-induced transformation that puts its viability in jeopardy. The Python Hunt expertly delivers on its promises of humor and human interest, then uses it to bring a much more complicated story to life.

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