Robert Rodriguez’s glam-grind (thank God this is not a music review) movement is all but spent for me, but commandeering other, decades old “B” properties into the reboot proving ground (that is, sequel potential) is a new insipid frontier. But he does, like in most of his projects, organize the material with a modicum of class and gleeful sentimentality; Predators is no exception to this rule, and tapping Nimrod Antal’s above-average command of the frame is indicative of this. And yet, I feel this overwhelming attempt towards integrity harms Predators… Antal knows how to balance a shot – During one of the various pursuit sequences, our human prey take a tumble, hitting the decline of the slope with harshest takes on that day of the shoot… No sooner do they approach the drop of a cliff, and one expects a mundane long shot of the stick figures plunging to the convenient body of water below. Yet, the camera foolhardily follows over the edge, bungee-ing with the cast right over that drop off. It’s great stuff to be sure. Antal’s smooth scan over the alien-but-probably-weird-volcanic-formation-on-Earth vistas creeps in a more omniscient way than John McTiernan’s tribal thrust through the canopy in 1987’s original. It’s different, it works… But what sterility it produces.
I almost wish that, if Rodriguez took the director’s chair, Predators would be as garish as I imagine his ongoing Barbarella film will be; this film is not sure when it wants to be schlocky fun or a wartime tragedy, dulling both sides of Predators’ blade. The canvas is always overcast, not wholly desaturated, but sure as hell not the dappled, popping limes of jungles in Predators past. Antal thankfully allows the film texture, as Predator technology is muddied, bloodstained, and rotten smelling. The film’s gimmick (that this time, hunted humans are on the Predator’s ground) already demands so much of a suspension of disbelief that a hum drum, gunmetal jungle-scape screams a lack of resources. If it fully embraced Rodriguez’s Troublemaker artificiality, it could at least warrant a more comfortable backdrop for an absurd premise. Technicolor phantasmagoria feels far more appropriate for this “true” sequel than an ultra modern, DV-quality rehash.
And yet Predators does not always cower in the shadow of 1987 (or the hammy and underrated follow up), as it often allows its familiar themes to reflect the recognizable but different planet. Predator was a love letter to untarnished masculinity, bringing men of “honour” deeper and deeper into an elemental past to live out their true glory – Predator was doing them a favor. Here we reverse this sentiment… This more geographically diverse ensemble is more pitiable than huntsmen, unquestioningly assuming they would be sent to hell before an alien planet. Their various offings feel more like poetic justices than fallen hunters; quite the opposite from Bill Duke’s soliloquy for fallen comrades 23 years ago. Yes, the reversal at least warrants a new script, but for so many new dynamics (Predator hunting dogs, other imprisoned aliens, Predator/Roman classism?) barely anything is gleaned in the Predator mythology. The film’s final words, after an all too reliable narrative suicide during the climax, merely assure what is to be the next, more “true” sequel. I’ll side with schlocky on that one, but not fun.
Predator is not profound work as a series; the original said enough for itself. And for that, there are vulgar joys to be had in this unfortunate potboiler – Watching, I caught myself thinking “this does have a lot of jungle shit” – you know, traps, critters, rugged terrain… They are bullshit colonial tropes that are still a fucking blast, no matter what film will hesitantly take them. Purely homage, a bushido scene between a Yakuza and Predator in the tall grass is too obvious to dislike. As for the cast, Adrien Brody allows a sharp tongue, body armour, and iron-ore bullet music to distract from his past, gawky demeanor. The film is at its best when he has the answers to the other, more self conscious killers’ musings. However, his unrelenting step ahead never really drives this plot to a conclusion other than defeat. So what is the point?
(5.0/10)
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