Editorials
Defending ‘The Predator’: The Most Unfairly Hated Horror Movie of 2018
Unless you’re asking the writer of a certain Vogue.com article that riled up the community last month, it’s pretty much a unanimous agreement among horror fans that 2018 was a damn fine year for the genre. Hereditary and Suspiria, in particular, reminded that horror movies can be as worthy of awards season recognition as dramas, but some of the year’s best horror offerings were just plain fun. On that note, Overlord made Brad’s list of the Best Films of 2018, right alongside Hereditary and Suspiria, as did another 2018 favorite of mine: The Predator.
Mind you, Brad and I are somewhat alone on an island when it comes to the film I’m here to write about today, as Shane Black‘s sequel to the 1987 classic was largely reviled by horror fans – even the biggest fans of the franchise. In fact, based on what I’ve seen on social media these last several months, The Predator is easily the most hated horror movie of 2018.
Naturally, Brad has been catching some flack for putting The Predator in the #9 spot on his list, so I probably shouldn’t even be telling you that it’s much higher on my own list.
But I suppose it’s too late for that, eh?
Yes, I absolutely loved The Predator (saw it twice in theaters!), a big budget action-horror hybrid that’s easily the franchise’s best film since the Arnold Schwarzenegger-led original. Co-written by Shane Black and ’80s horror favorite Fred Dekker (The Monster Squad, Night of the Creeps), the Halloween-set sequel picks up many years after the events of the original two films, and it puts a timely spin on the franchise’s mythology. When the full story is finally revealed, it becomes clear that the Predators are intending on wiping out humanity and taking over Earth as their new home; climate change, after all, will render our planet uninhabitable in the future, which will make it perfect for the titular beasts, who prefer warmer climates.
In the meantime, Black and Dekker’s fun script informs us, the Predators have been making pit stops on Earth (once in 1987 and later in the ’90s) to scoop up DNA from humanity’s finest while human beings are still around to snatch up DNA from. No, our spinal columns haven’t been mere trophies for the creatures, but rather a means for them to hybridize. They’ve also been collecting DNA from the top specimens on other planets, which is a crazy cool concept.
The ambitious new take on the franchise’s lore introduces the jacked up, massively tall “Ultimate Predator,” an upgraded beast who comes down to Earth to stop a lone “Fugitive Predator” from delivering ass-kicking alien technology that’ll allow humanity to fend off the eventual invasion. Caught up in the middle of this war between monsters is a rag tag group of emotionally unstable veterans, led by Boyd Holbrook’s Quinn McKenna, as well as a scientist played by Olivia Munn and Quinn’s highly intelligent young son Rory, played by Jacob Tremblay.
Easily the biggest strong suit of The Predator is Black and Dekker’s script, which is loaded with the witty dialogue that Black in particular has become known for – fun fact, Black actually wrote some of the jokes for the original Predator script, and he also starred in the film as the Predator’s very first on-screen victim! Talk about being destined for the job, eh?
Of course, punchy dialogue is nothing without the right actors to deliver it, and The Predator is an embarrassment of riches in the casting department. The so-called “Loonies” are made up of Thomas Jane’s Baxley, Keegan Michael-Key’s Coyle, Trevante Rhodes’ Nebraska, Augusto Aguilera’s Nettles and Alfie Allen’s Lynch, and they come together to form one of the most fun ensemble casts in years. The banter between the characters, again in large part thanks to Black and Dekker’s dialogue, is often laugh out loud hilarious, and there’s enough development to each of the individual characters that you genuinely care when they’re inevitably killed off. As the primary (human) antagonist, Sterling K. Brown is a total scene stealer in his own right.
I can pinpoint the exact moment I decided The Predator was my kinda movie. In the opening sequence, Boyd Holbrook’s Quinn McKenna fires a bladed disk out of a Predator arm gauntlet, accidentally cutting one of the beast’s human victims in half. The already mutilated body had been hanging upside down from a tree, and the disk also knocks the cloaked Predator to the ground… directly beneath the body it cut in half. The unfortunate victim’s blood drips down onto the Predator, revealing its face to Quinn; he’s only able to see the unmasked monster because its face is completely soaked in human blood. It’s such a cool moment that if you were sitting right next to me in my local theater, you would’ve seen me smiling ear to ear.
For me, The Predator is absolutely loaded with those crazy cool moments, whether we’re talking about the scene where young Jacob Tremblay accidentally obliterates a bully with Predator technology; the totally badass moment where the brand new Ultimate Predator rips off the head of a classic Predator; the Ultimate Predator munching down on an unlucky human’s head up in the trees; or the final stinger wherein Black introduces the “Predator Killer” and teases a sequel that the movie’s box office under-performance surely killed off before he and Dekker ever had the chance to put pen to paper. A damn shame there, because Black and Dekker proved with this one that they’re the perfect architects for this particular franchise.
First and foremost, those dudes know how to make a fun movie.
Brutally violent (sure, much of the blood is computer-generated, but that’s horror in 2018 for ya), funnier than most comedies this year and just plain FUN above all else, The Predator is exactly the kind of movie that the genre unfortunately hasn’t been giving us all that much of in recent years. In that sense, it’s a film more in tune with the ’80s than 2018, and that’s really why I love it so much. Mind you, we’re all incredibly lucky to be living in a time where downright brilliant, Oscar-worthy horror films are becoming the norm, but it’s also nice to be fed the kinds of movies that made us fall in love with horror movies in the first place. And for me, with all its silliness and over the top insanity, The Predator was the only movie of that kind in 2018.
What’s *not* to love about The Predator? That’s a question I’m certainly not the right person to answer, but there’s been a lot of talk about the film being a nonsensical mess. I can’t help but wonder if much of that criticism is linked to the fact that we all went into the film well aware of its production issues (in particular, the final act was heavily re-shot pretty late in the game), but honestly, even armed with this information, I found no real issue with the movie from a construction standpoint. Granted, I was having so much fun that I admittedly probably would’ve overlooked some glaring stuff, but I’ve now revisited the film twice and I still think it all works incredibly well. That reshot final act, in particular, is a total winner in my book.
(Okay, so if I *had* to tweak one thing about the final act, and really about the movie as a whole, I’d give Will Traeger a better, easier to process death scene. But that’s all!)
There were a lot of really great horror movies in 2018, but for me personally, none as downright entertaining as The Predator. And that’s why, alone on an island or not, it’s my #1.
Horror movies these days are rarely this fun. And I personally want more like this one.
Editorials
‘Leprechaun Returns’ – The Charm of the Franchise’s Legacy Sequel
The erratic Leprechaun franchise is not known for sticking with a single concept for too long. The namesake (originally played by Warwick Davis) has gone to L.A., Las Vegas, space, and the ‘hood (not once but twice). And after an eleven-year holiday since the Davis era ended, the character received a drastic makeover in a now-unmentionable reboot. The critical failure of said film would have implied it was time to pack away the green top hat and shillelagh, and say goodbye to the nefarious imp. Instead, the Leprechaun series tried its luck again.
The general consensus for the Leprechaun films was never positive, and the darker yet blander Leprechaun: Origins certainly did not sway opinions. Just because the 2014 installment took itself seriously did not mean viewers would. After all, creator Mark Jones conceived a gruesome horror-comedy back in the early nineties, and that format is what was expected of any future ventures. So as horror legacy sequels (“legacyquels”) became more common in the 2010s, Leprechaun Returns followed suit while also going back to what made the ‘93 film work. This eighth entry echoed Halloween (2018) by ignoring all the previous sequels as well as being a direct continuation of the original. Even ardent fans can surely understand the decision to wipe the slate clean, so to speak.
Leprechaun Returns “continued the [franchise’s] trend of not being consistent by deciding to be consistent.” The retconning of Steven Kostanski and Suzanne Keilly’s film was met with little to no pushback from the fandom, who had already become accustomed to seeing something new and different with every chapter. Only now the “new and different” was familiar. With the severe route of Origins a mere speck in the rearview mirror, director Kotanski implemented a “back to basics” approach that garnered better reception than Zach Lipovsky’s own undertaking. The one-two punch of preposterous humor and grisly horror was in full force again.
With Warwick Davis sitting this film out — his own choice — there was the foremost challenge of finding his replacement. Returns found Davis’ successor in Linden Porco, who admirably filled those blood-stained, buckled shoes. And what would a legacy sequel be without a returning character? Jennifer Aniston obviously did not reprise her final girl role of Tory Redding. So, the film did the next best thing and fetched another of Lubdan’s past victims: Ozzie, the likable oaf played by Mark Holton. Returns also created an extension of Tory’s character by giving her a teenage daughter, Lila (Taylor Spreitler).
It has been twenty-five years since the events of the ‘93 film. The incident is unknown to all but its survivors. Interested in her late mother’s history there in Devil’s Lake, North Dakota, Lila transferred to the local university and pledged a sorority — really the only one on campus — whose few members now reside in Tory Redding’s old home. The farmhouse-turned-sorority-house is still a work in progress; Lila’s fellow Alpha Epsilon sisters were in the midst of renovating the place when a ghost of the past found its way into the present.
The Psycho Goreman and The Void director’s penchant for visceral special effects is noted early on as the Leprechaun tears not only into the modern age, but also through poor Ozzie’s abdomen. The portal from 1993 to 2018 is soaked with blood and guts as the Leprechaun forces his way into the story. Davis’ iconic depiction of the wee antagonist is missed, however, Linden Porco is not simply keeping the seat warm in case his predecessor ever resumes the part. His enthusiastic performance is accentuated by a rotten-looking mug that adds to his innate menace.
The obligatory fodder is mostly young this time around. Apart from one luckless postman and Ozzie — the premature passing of the latter character removed the chance of caring about anyone in the film — the Leprechaun’s potential prey are all college aged. Lila is this story’s token trauma kid with caregiver baggage; her mother thought “monsters were always trying to get her.” Lila’s habit of mentioning Tory’s mental health problem does not make a good first impression with the resident mean girl and apparent alcoholic of the sorority, Meredith (Emily Reid). Then there are the nicer but no less cursorily written of the Alpha Epsilon gals: eco-conscious and ex-obsessive Katie (Pepi Sonuga), and uptight overachiever Rose (Sai Bennett). Rounding out the main cast are a pair of destined-to-die bros (Oliver Llewellyn Jenkins, Ben McGregor). Lila and her peers range from disposable to plain irritating, so rooting for any one of them is next to impossible. Even so, their overstated personalities make their inevitable fates more satisfying.
Where Returns excels is its death sequences. Unlike Jones’ film, this one is not afraid of killing off members of the main cast. Lila, admittedly, wears too much plot armor, yet with her mother’s spirit looming over her and the whole story — comedian Heather McDonald put her bang-on Aniston impersonation to good use as well as provided a surprisingly emotional moment in the film — her immunity can be overlooked. Still, the other characters’ brutal demises make up for Lila’s imperviousness. The Leprechaun’s killer set-pieces also happen to demonstrate the time period, seeing as he uses solar panels and a drone in several supporting characters’ executions. A premortem selfie and the antagonist’s snarky mention of global warming additionally add to this film’s particular timestamp.
Critics were quick to say Leprechaun Returns did not break new ground. Sure, there is no one jetting off to space, or the wacky notion of Lubdan becoming a record producer. This reset, however, is still quite charming and entertaining despite its lack of risk-taking. And with yet another reboot in the works, who knows where the most wicked Leprechaun ever to exist will end up next.
Horror contemplates in great detail how young people handle inordinate situations and all of life’s unexpected challenges. While the genre forces characters of every age to face their fears, it is especially interested in how youths might fare in life-or-death scenarios.
The column Young Blood is dedicated to horror stories for and about teenagers, as well as other young folks on the brink of terror.
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