The perils of fandom – when you knowingly set off to see a movie,
despite its 34% Tomatometer Score.
It’s been 31 years since we first heard “GET TO THE CHOPPAH!” and had our original
encounter with the reptilian trophy hunter from outer space. Predator (directed
by pre-Die Hard John McTiernan)
became a fan favorite, right up there with Aliens
– two Fox franchises that have since struggled mightily to serve up a worthy
sequel. Getting Shane Black (Kiss Kiss
Bang Bang, Iron Man 3) to helm a reimagining
seemed like pop culture serendipity – he played one of the soldiers in the
original, fer cryin’ out loud! Sense and
sensibility.
So it’s a drag to report that suspicions confirmed – The Predator is pretty much a train
wreck. What made the original such a gas was a combination of the pulp/gore
plot and genre mash-up of war movie meets monster movie – plus a fantastic
ensemble cast of scenery-chewers. Predator
never stopped working the audience and was always fun. This iteration, not so much.
Black clearly recognized the original’s
Dirty Dozen ragtag miscreants were a
huge part of its success – so he tries to create something similar here, with a
busload of “Section 8” soldiers all discharged for psychiatric reasons, who’ve
dubbed themselves “The Loonies.” Sniper protagonist Quinn McKenna (Boyd
Holbrook) gets tossed into their company, right as one of the interstellar insurgents
breaks loose, wreaking bloody havoc. Holbrook is serviceable, with a nice tough
guy persona, but the rest of these guys – it’s like wondering into the world’s
worst AA meeting that you can’t escape from. Black sets perceptions of mental
illness back 30 years. The usually dependable Thomas Jane seems completely at
sea depicting Tourette Syndrome. Game of
Thrones’ Alfie Allen and Keegan-Michael Key don’t fare much better. Suddenly
you find that Black’s fondness for drive-in B-grade hysterics has let him turn
half The Predator’s screenplay into a
horrific attempt at comedy. He seems to be trying to irreverently evoke the
mindset of films made 30+ years ago, when political correctness took a backseat
to firepower and gross-out humor. Friday
the 13th meets Porky’s?
That’s kind of where we’re at. Add the “Hot Scientist” character (Olivia Munn,
proving all biologists must wear yoga pants), and you’re wincing for about
two-thirds of the picture. Sterling K. Brown and Trevante Rhodes both do a lot
with a little, easily the best actors in the film. Jake Busey is wasted in a
criminally small part. Wish he’d had more to do!
McKenna has an estranged young son (Jacob Tremblay) who
seems to be depicted as experiencing Autism – but Black tries to have it both
ways, depicting a child with a disability, chastising one character for
referring to him with the R-word…but then unable to resist using it yet again to squeeze out one more cheap
laugh.
The twist here is that the Act 1 Predator is a fugitive –
the real menace is a bigger,
genetically-enhanced Assassin Predator, out to track down the first one, taking
out anyone who gets in his way. There’s some pretty bad CGI happening in The Predator that rivals season 2 of Stranger Things. The Über
Predator is cool and intimidating, but also often too-tall absurd. He’s also
largely CG.
When The Predator isn’t
making you cringe with its comedy misfires, it’s got you scratching your head
with its chaotic, choppily cut action sequences. Cinematographer Larry Fong’s
talents are woefully underutilized here, with no chance to deliver any of the
iconic shots he’s capable of. Remember how people used to joke about how The Return of the King had like six
endings? Well, The Predator is the
drive-in equivalent, with yet another sequence of implausible demolition derby
chaos following the last. It’s like being stuck in the Lincoln Tunnel.
I’ll always be fond of Predators, they’ve earned their place
in the sci-fi bestiary of cool – and I’m a Shane Black fan. That’s what vexes me so much. Combining chocolate and peanut
butter should taste great! So how come this outing makes me want to wash my
mouth out?
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