It's not thoughtless per se; rather, it lacks the resources to bring its vision successfully to screen. Its quirks are sometimes appealing and sometimes amateurish and, while a mixture of influences swirl about, from Bond to Kingsman to Guy Ritchie and even Mission: Impossible, the film-makers don't have the necessary budget, meaning that it feels at times like a TikTok parody of more expensive films.
It's a good thing Anaconda isn't meant to be a horror movie, because the few times it tries for such moments, it's not great at it. The first reveal of the titular giant snake feels like an afterthought. The jump scares, while certainly startling in the moment, are pretty well-telegraphed in advance. However, the end result is a movie far less scary than its campy 1997 predecessor, but far funnier - on purpose.
She is trapped in a bleak job, in a bleak relationship and in a bleak house. The bleakest element of this trifecta of bleakness is the relationship: she is involved with the utterly unlovely Frank (Shane McCormick) who, as one character observes, is the sort of guy who throws his entire life away then lashes out in every direction, blaming everyone but himself for how things have turned out.