When a young boy accidentally triggers the universe’s most lethal hunters’ return to Earth, only a ragtag crew of ex-soldiers and a disgruntled science teacher can prevent the end of the human race.
Director: Shane Black
Starring: Boyd Holbrook, Trevante Rhodes, Jacob Tremblay
R for strong bloody violence, language throughout, and crude sexual references
The Predator is a mess. Joke after joke, dull set piece after dull set piece, stock character after stock character – the main one horribly miscast – all amounting to what is undoubtedly a mess. Not a disaster, mind you, but it comes awfully close. The Predator is the fourth installment in what has become an inconsistent series of films. In 1987, audiences were introduced to the titular alien in Predator, as Arnold Schwarzenegger was matched up against the headhunter in the middle of the unforgiving jungle. It wasn’t the most sophisticated science fiction movie, but it delivered the action, scares, and memorable one-liners well enough. Its formidable sequel, 1990’s Predator 2, has become a staple of bad 1990s action films among cinephiles.
It should be noted that securing the attention of moviegoers these days can be a curious task. Many of them want to see the latest sequel, prequel, or remake. However, if that particular series has an inconsistent track record, then audiences will have no idea what to expect. For instance, this reviewer went into the film expecting a mixed bag: it was probably going to be a disappointment, but nothing too unshakable. While mostly correct, it was worse than anticipated. Comic relief in films these days is notably more present than in the past. However, many people have confused comic relief with character development, such as in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, a world full of arrogant, and sometimes, ignorant, and zany individuals who also happen to be flawed creatures with unmistakably large responsibilities. Their frequent one-liners or occasional jokes are part of who they are. Some films, however, have taken the success of the Marvel Cinematic Universe to mean that audiences will flock to films that are profitable and equally “hilarious.” It seems that Shane Black’s The Predator was one such product of this idea. The Predator, from beginning to end, consists of countless jokes, many of them coming literally with no context, being blurted out; the people who blurt these jokes out, by the way, suffer from mental illnesses, and their illnesses are used as an excuse to constantly bombard the audience with joke after joke after joke after joke. Keegan-Michael Key, while a great actor – especially in this film – is nonetheless obnoxious, and consistently tells sex jokes. On several occasions, his character, suffering from PTSD, delivers jokes in scenes seemingly hollowed out from the runtime just for his gags. Also, Thomas Jane’s character has Tourette’s, which is used for comedic purposes. Just a reminder, this is a Predator film. It’s hard to imagine, in 1987, or even in 2010, that such a film could be spawned within the Predator series, yet here we are.
Black’s always had a place for humor in his films, but The Predator oversteps its boundaries on far too many occasions. When a film consists of hardly anything other than characters delivering jokes and engaging in, well, unengaging, action sequences, you’d better hope those characters are solid – but, of course, they’re not here, and The Predator is full of stock characters. That being said, Boyd Holbrook is terribly miscast here as Quinn McKenna, the main role. His character is unremarkable in every sense of the word. He is unlikable because there really isn’t a reason to like him, or even care about him. Trevante Rhodes plays a soldier named Nebraska Williams, who seems to be around merely to react to the jokes that Keegan-Michael Key’s Coyle delivers. The young and talented Jacob Tremblay plays Rory McKenna, Quinn’s son, whose presence in the film is rather unnecessary and, at times, questionable. Olivia Munn, who is always great, has very little to work with given the script. Fortunately, this doesn’t show in her performance, but she is always on the move, and we never get to know Casey Bracket, her character in the film, or why we should be invested in her part to play in the story. The skillful Sterling K. Brown plays Traeger, some type of military policeman, presumably – it’s never really clear exactly what his role is in everything other than being the “bad guy” – and does what he can to give his character depth, but Traeger is, again, really not that interesting, and has a bizarre habit of chewing down on Mentos (which sticks out like a sore thumb). Alfie Allen plays Lynch, and he is perhaps the most uninteresting character in the entire film, as he largely stays hidden in the background and rarely comes to the forefront of what is unfolding on screen. Regardless, Allen does what he can.
Bad jokes, screwball characters that are uninteresting through and through, action sequences that do absolutely nothing to progress the story – if one even exists – or engage the audience, and a reliance on a script that is notably hollow brings The Predator dangerously close to being a total disaster. Fortunately, there’s just enough here to keep it, quite simply, just a mess, which isn’t saying all that much.