I know what you’re thinking, but Predator is actually a classic slasher movie dressed up like an action film. Doesn’t Arnold make quite the winsome final girl?
I have always thought of Predator as a horror movie. I don’t know where that falls on the “Die Hard as Christmas movie” controversy scale, but I’ve never considered that one particularly controversial either (it is). You could superimpose the basic mechanics of Halloween onto Predator, and it all pretty much lines up. Instead of the Haddenfield suburbs, you have the jungles of Central America, and instead of overmatched teenage babysitters you have an overmatched squad of elite special forces operatives. They are picked off one by one by a mute, nigh-indestructible killer with mysterious motives. If the world is on board with Alien as belonging to the horror genre, then we shouldn’t have a problem with Predator falling into the same.*
With that bit of semantics out of the way, does Predator make a good horror movie? I rank it among my very favorite films of all time, if that gives you any indication how I feel. Because it spends the first act establishing its action-movie charade, the plot dispenses with a lot of the stock slasher trappings. There is no crusty old soothsayer to give the eventual victims a cryptic warning, but there is an early scene where Arnold and the crew discover the skinned bodies of other soldiers that serves a similar function. You don’t have any scenes where they try and convince the authorities of the danger only to be summarily dismissed, yet that function is served by the ever-shifting extraction point leaving them alone to fend for themselves without backup. There are no red herrings, no whodunit to solve, but the film withholds information about the Predator for as long as it can, slowly eking out details about its abilities, appearance, and ultimately weaknesses. That provides the mystery element and a hook to keep watching once the testosterone-driven ballistics displays are over.
Speaking of ballistics displays, that initial assault on the guerilla camp is so fun. In 2022, it really reads like a parody of the type of scene you would get in Rambo or Commando. It is the Harlem Globetrotters versus the Washington Generals of action cinema. The small squad of soldiers makes devastatingly short work of their enemies, while giving Arnold a chance to fill his quota of looking badass and dropping terrible puns. The quick cuts and explosions pile up in a feverish display of sound and fury that leaves one side decimated and the other side fully intact, barring a minor nick that gives Jesse Ventura the opportunity to utter the immortal line “I ain’t got time to bleed.” It is possible that this set piece is a commentary on the G.I. Joe/Top Gun military-worship that 80’s pop culture indulged in frequently, and its possible that it is simply another example of that worship. I tend to think the former, but Predator is not too interested in exploring that further. The one concrete purpose that this scene serves is to raise the stakes – look at how competent and dangerous this group of protagonists is, and then watch as they are turned into helpless victims by an even more powerful and crafty opponent. This is mirrored in the scene where Ventura is discovered dead, and the rest of the team unleashes their full arsenal into the jungle, only this time it’s the Predator who merely suffers a superficial wound with a little bit of (neon green) blood.
The performances in this movie are filled with the big personalities and bigger biceps of Schwarzenegger, Ventura and Carl Weathers. Yet there are two actors who really stand above the rest. The first is Bill Duke as Mac. His steely intensity is a great counterpoint to his screen-mates’ bluster, and his rage and grief over losing his best friend is legitimately Oscar-worthy. Second is Kevin Peter Hall, who plays the titular antagonist. Cast primarily due to his 7′ 2″ frame, its Hall’s physicality that really brings the Predator to life. If he had played the role in a Jason Voorhees, lumbering tank sort of way, it would have sunk the movie. Instead, he is lithe and agile, animalistic and otherworldly at times, but also conveys intelligence and thoughtfulness, especially towards the end of the movie when the tables are turned and we are spying on him through the trees. It is an underrated acting job, but probably the element that the film’s success hinges on the most.
So there you have it, a classic by my estimation, whether you buy it as a horror movie or not. It feels silly to recommend a movie that is already so beloved by my generation, but hey, I’ve never seen The Jazz Singer and that’s probably what this feels like to the average zoomer out there. I did introduce my son to it this year (age 12), and he gives his endorsement (good, gory, but not too scary is the gist of his sentiments). Perhaps an odd one to wrap up with on Halloween, but I hope you got something out of mine and Scott’s ruminations on all things horror this spooky season. Before you know it, we’ll be back at it again next year. Until then, go watch something scary! Happy Halloween!
* Aliens, on the other hand, actually falls into the action movie camp despite a more surface-level similarity to Predator.
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