——I Had Myself a Predator-thon!——

Predator (1987) — (B) —
Predator 2 (1990) — (B-) —

Ok, since there are only two films in the series –thon is probably not the right suffix to use. But since I don’t really know what else to call it though, the –thon is sticking, dammit!

Anyway, yesterday I visited a Best Buy, saw both Predator movies sitting side by side with $9.99 price stickers on them and thought them just so cute that I had to take them home with me. Twenty bucks for two DVDs? Not a bad price at all. Of course the DVDs have no extras to speak of, including animated menus, (which is odd, because even my VHS copy of Predator has a little “making of” documentary on it) but who cares really? I mean it would be nice to see how they got the Predator’s mandibles to move but otherwise all you really want is the action anyway, right? Since the only silver screen alien cooler than the Predator is the Alien (the two of whom MacFarlane Toys gloriously packaged as a two pack, which I now own making my dream come true) and since I grew up with these movies (I have a worn bootleg copy of Predator 2 that I must have watched a million times when I was 13) I just had to get them at this bargain price.

Who cares about that; what about the movies? Casting choices play a surprisingly big role in the enjoyment of the Predator movies. For instance, not only does the first film star Arnold Schwarzenegger at his hilarious best, but you are also treated to the joys of Jesse “The Body” Ventura (“I ain’t got time to bleed”) and Carl Weathers straight out of his pumped up days playing Apollo Creed. This movie is really a tribute to muscles more than anything else. Every shot seems to be composed to get the most out of the muscle power the director has at his disposal. Arnold arm wrestles, wrestles with the Predator, lifts lots of stuff and does just about anything else you can think about to show off that Mr. Universe body.

The dialog is not too bad in this movie, and the direction is pretty above the normal action movie call of duty, but I still find myself getting bored at times. After everyone dies and it’s just Arnold versus the Predator there is a whole lot of prep work that really isn’t that exciting to watch. That and the fact that the plot is barely there kind of make this movie a drag from time to time. I mean, really, couldn’t the rest of the cast have lived just a little bit longer? Oh well.

Predator 2 has among its own Danny Glover (as the bad ass cop in need of some anger management), Gary Busey (doing his best crazy Busey impression) and, God love him, Bill Paxton (doing his best smarmy sexist asshole, but still a good guy shtick). The dialog is of the atrocious paint by numbers variety, and would be extremely painful to watch if it weren’t for the above-mentioned actors overacting to their heart’s content. If only the other actors could do so much with so little. The direction is nothing special, but every once and a while it stumbles on to a great shot. The whole sequence inside the Predators’ ship is spectacular. If anything, the Predators look even better in this one, in all their “pussy-face” dreadlocks glory. Every once and while though logic flies out the window (like in the scene in the subway: Paxton empties two full clips into the Predator’s chest without the Predator suffering a scratch. That’s interesting considering that the Predator is wearing next to no body armor, and none on its chest. Where the hell are those magic bullets going?)

Even though the second film is definitely a lot crappier than the first, I think I still prefer to watch it. I’d rather have hilariously bad dialog as opposed to no dialog at all. I mean, the best moments of Predator happen whenever Jesse Ventura opens his mouth, and he buys it way too soon. In Predator 2 you have the LA of the future (1997) pictured as a gang ridden hellhole (I know, I know…they got it dead on). There’s nothing better than watching the horrendous acting of the Jamaican and Colombian gang members. It’s worth the ten bucks I paid for it anyhow.