REVIEW – “The Predator” Makes a Valiant, yet Timid Comeback to the Franchise Laden Film World

by Joe Hammerschmidt

There will be many who will consider the original Predator, a testosterone-heavy jungle fever sci-fi adventure that could only be made in the late 80s, a respectable classic. Having just viewed the original, and its misunderstood-by-audiences sequel, fairly recently, its nostalgia value is still a bit lost to me. At the very least, both are easygoing fun, and plenty rewatchable, unafraid to be a little funny, plenty vicious, yet unabashedly timid at the same time. Shane Black and Fred Dekker have always ensured the base roots of this hit-and-miss franchise would stay as such. Speaking toward modern cinema, that may still not be such a terrible thing; after seeing what they had accomplished with the series’ latest entry (I wouldn’t necessarily consider it a reboot or hard reset), simply named The Predator, one may have to question where and how it could affect more sensitive viewers, and whether they do belong in a film in this day and age. Keep in mind where the script’s barrage of one-liners falter, they’re not completely enough to weigh down the picture’s maximum upward momentum in all attempts to lift off the earth.

Trodding the same ground as with the very first Predator series, we have the obligatory prologue involving hyperviolent aliens crashing onto Earth, now more frequently than before. Armed Forces specialist Quinn McKenna (Boyd Holbrook) finds himself deep in a sludgey mess as the only witness to an extraterrestrial encounter that murders the rest of his talented platoon. Quarantined by his VA superiors for the supposed harboring of government secrets, his path inadvertently crosses with a rambunctious mix of self-proclaimed “looneys”, and one noted scientist who’s done plenty of research involving past sightings of the predator creatures. And all this as Rory (Jacob Tremblay), Quinn’s son, linguist in training, and an otherwise gifted Aspie kid, accidentally signals a homing beacon left behind as evidence luring the fleet closer to Earth. Not to mention, it also makes one heck of a Halloween costume.

Tender family reunion aside, Black and Dekker aren’t the type to shimmy too far from their comfort zone with predetermined character styles. Major difference one may spot, if one were really stacking this Predator with its 1987 equivalent: A badass female protagonist, Dr. Casey Bracket (Olivia Munn). As mentioned, her biological research on the government’s behalf plays a valuable asset to slowing down a possible rampage. Having only seen her as an upbeat comedy/drama actress, I couldn’t help but be just a tad amazed over how confidently she could hold her own against a massive wash of loopy men whose best shared strength is a collection of immature jokes that stretch out far too thin before the final act. Granted, there’s plenty one can like out of this cast, they just deserve less lazy writing.

That, in itself, is a shame, when one separates each of the “Looneys” into their own corner; not much time is granted toward their, or anyone’s backstories, not wanting to weigh down the juicier plot details. Though of course, with the crassness they spin with each other, not many viewers will care. Among them, cocky Nebraska (Trevante Rhodes), trauma-stricken Baxley (Thomas Jane), accent-shifting Lynch (Alfie Allen), Blackhawk specialist Nettles (Augusto Aguilera), and my personal favorite, the mile-a-minute thinking Coyle (an utterly delightful Keegan-Michael Key).

One important aspect I had nearly overlooked in this writeup: Our abstract villain, though not quite much of one. As a liaison to Bracket, Will Traegar’s (Sterling K. Brown) authority is as clear as crystal, if not incoherent. Babbling on like a maniacal genius, he can stand out in a crowd, but struggles to get much business conducted in taking control of the growingly lethal scenario. Brown’s own acting swagger does serve an effective ploy, yet not as frequently as one would prefer. And then there’s the father and son dynamic. Holbrook’s no-nonsense approach, I’d say, is likely the steadiest element brought on by the cast as a whole, every other member following his rhythm like they couldn’t survive without it. Tremblay is far from a slouch, either, even if his character is once again the target of bullying due to a major life quirk. As opposed to Wonder, here any half-hearted jokes made are nothing more than unnecessarily low blows; something I just shuddered toward every time. Nonetheless, this is another fair stepping stone in a rather impressive CV for the kid. Do keep both eyes open for a very underused Yvonne Strahovski as the mom and wife.

From a visual aesthetic, The Predator does keep in step with its predecessors; and being filmed in the British Columbian woods, it almost turns naturally rustic, even if it’s not exactly the sweaty Mexican jungle. DP Larry Fong (Kong: Skull Island) rolls with that apparent inspiration, seeking literally zero disconnect. Spoiling that atmosphere, however, is a series of poor editing decisions at the hands of Harry B. Miller III (The Millionaire’s Unit). Nauseating, insincere, and at times hard to follow, just the way each important moment is held together is absolutely inexcusable for a sci-fi film, let alone a film with big Hollywood financing and story potential, albeit with a hastily redone ending.

Regardless of a clear lack of foresight in a sustainable franchise infrastructure, leaving future films in absolute doubt, Black and Dekker unashamedly try to make The Predator enough of a schlocky fright fest that’ll warrant plenty of late night HBO viewings a decade from now. So long as one isn’t bothered by a lack of meaningful plot, weak joke padding, and a few one-note characters barely escaping first gear, there’ll still be plenty to enjoy. Otherwise, the rest of you may just find it just acceptable, though not exceptional. It’s not as much frustrating as it’s just flatout deflating. It will be impossible to overlook the complete derailment I witnessed near the end, including a very desperate attempt at setting up an ill-fated followup, which if Fox is smart enough, will think twice about. In other words, experience it if willing, be prepared to have a few yuks, but also keep the expectations very low. This really ain’t your parents’ Predator. (C)

The Predator is in most area theaters this weekend; rated R for strong bloody violence, language throughout, and crude sexual references; 107 minutes.