1987’s Predator, directed
by John McTiernan.
Starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, Carl Weathers, Sonny
Landham, Bill Duke, Richard Chaves, Jesse Ventura, Shane Black, and Elpidia
Carrillo.
Nominated for an Academy Award for Best Visual Effects (Joel
Hynek, Robert M. Greenberg, Richard Greenberg, and Stan Winston).
What is it about?
During the 1980’s, an elite special forces unit is recruited to enter into
South America and rescue hostages from hostile guerillas. Lead by the
formidable Major Dutch Schaefer (Arnold
Schwarzenegger), the seasoned group (Sonny Landham, Bill Duke, Richard Chaves,
Jesse Ventura, and Shane Black) are joined by a higher up, Dillon (Carl
Weathers). The group is dropped off in the jungle, infiltrate a stronghold, and
make short work of the rebels- before they start to get picked off, one by one,
by some kind of an other worldly hunter. Possessing technology far beyond
theirs, and size and strength not of this world, will any of the military squad
be able to survive the alien that turns the hunters into the hunted?
Why is it worth seeing?
Predator is a
science fiction film disguised as an action film, that much like its
antagonist’s sleek contours, hides something quite potent. Its themes of G.I.
Joes who initially go off to kick Central American ass while trying to perform
contra inspired military chicanery, are elevated into how it feels to be on the
receiving end of being hunted for sport. Its results are so exhilarating,
unique, and influential that very few films have ever really compared to it-
especially its sequels.
When looking at his career filmography, I can’t really wrap
my head around how well John McTiernan’s second and third features went. A year
after releasing Predator, he would go
on to make Die Hard- another all time classic. McTiernan just seemed to
thrive (at the beginning of his career) with subverting genres, and
expectations (before flaming out and being incarcerated).
As alluded to above, Predator
(originally called Hunter as a
working title)’s first third is all Reagan-era macho bullshit. With bulging oiled
torsos, corny puns, and rah rah unilateral decision making based around filling
foreign people with lead consumed death, it’s one of the dumbest series of macho
sequences ever committed to film. But McTiernan introduces another genre, both during
and especially after the first third of the film- horror.
Nobody will ever confuse Predator’s
vibes with that of horror classics such as Rosemary’s Baby, Texas Chainsaw Massacre,
or Alien
(among others). But McTiernan develops a vibe of uneasiness, amongst some
of America’s finest fighting machines, that leads to outright fear and
hesitation. We share with the group their realization that there is, something,
out there in the impenetrable jungle, with technology beyond anything they
possess, and size and strength that dwarfs them- that is hunting them 1 by 1.
We share their lack of knowledge, and fears, towards this unrecognizable and
unclassifiable thing that doesn’t seem to have an agenda- other than collecting
spinal columns and skulls. It’s just so alien to us, along with its strangely
hypnotic vision.
While propelled by a supremely underrated score by Allan
Silvestri (and the appearance of the greatest fictional infantry weapon in
film’s history, the handheld M134 minigun), Predator didn’t win any screenplay
awards for its 1 sentence elevator pitch: a group of marines is hunted by an
futuristic Rastafarian alien. It’s kind
of silly. And consistently awesome, in a boy scouts’ advertisement kind of way.
The simplicity is what makes it such an enduring classic.
With a slick sci fi theme containing moments of suspense to
enhance its macho mandate, Predator
would launch Schwarzenegger’s career into the stratosphere, and a host of
sequels and tie ins that would result in watering down the potent idea
presented here- a common issue in
Hollywood. If it bleeds, we can kill it- or at least replicate it to death.
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