Predator: I Ain’t Got Time to Bleed

Silas Reynolds
The Right Stuff
May 17, 2016

o8w6jp

An affable, and evidently malleable, male SWPL co-worker asked me for a movie recommendation two weeks ago. I asked which genre and he told me action/adventure. Without hesitation, I told him, “Watch Predator, the original.” A week later I asked him if he’d watched it and for his thoughts; he shook his head and said, “Just way too violent and kinda broey, I couldn’t get into it.” I thought to myself: What a slack-jawed faggot.

I wouldn’t classify Predator as primarily an Alt-Right film, but it certainly qualifies as a film that modern (((Hollywood))) wouldn’t greenlight, in its original form and in today’s pozzed environment. Make no mistake though, the film certainly contains many Alt-Right themes, such as self-sacrifice, hypermasculinity, brotherhood, honesty in its brutal violence and Man’s (not Woman’s) struggle for survival, while framed within a larger sci-fi-fused version of The Most Dangerous Game. If you haven’t seen this film (shocking), I highly recommend it, unless you’re an effeminate milquetoast SWPL.

Directed by John McTiernan, who directed the exceptional Die Hard and criminally underrated The 13th Warrior. The film was also written by goy brothers, Jim and John Thomas, and produced by (((Joel Silver))). Silver echoes, but the man has produced some extraordinary action films, including, but not limited to, Roadhouse, The Warriors, Commando and Lethal Weapon, just to name a few. Alan Silvestri provides a superb score as well, incorporating heavy horn blasts, staccato string rhythms and undulating timpani rolls that highlight the action and suspense.

The protagonists are a racially diverse group of hardened U.S. military personnel; fortunately, the diversity doesn’t take away from the film or feel forced (similar to how Aliens successfully presented the camaraderie between the contrasting, in terms of race and gender, Colonial Marines). The film follows Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Major “Dutch” Schaefer, the leader of an elite unit of commandos that includes Carl Weathers (Rocky franchise and Action Jackson), Bill Duke (a minor John Matrix’s adversary, and eventual victim, in the outstanding Commando), former pro wrestler Jesse “The Body” Ventura, likely insane Cherokee/Seminole Indian Sonny Landham (former speaker at the Council of Conservative Citizens’s convention) and Lethal Weapon writer, Shane Black, who is also in charge of the reboot/sequel–pray it’s not a disaster.

Their mission is to infiltrate the fictional South/Central American country Val Verde, which interestingly enough was also the location ruled by the tyrant Arius in Commando. Dutch’s team are ordered to assist CIA man, Dillon, played by Weathers, and who has been “pushing too many pencils,” on a rescue mission for potential survivors of a helicopter downed over the country. Not long after they land, Dutch and his team discover that they have been sent under false pretenses by Dillon (he is a dindu after all–“Dillon! You son of a bitch!”). This deception turns out to be the least of their worries though, when they find themselves being methodically hunted by the honor-bound extraterrestrial Predator.

mwcg36

Their bants do not include P.C. approved language and there is no strong empowered female member of their team.

The violence in the film is visceral and much more realistic than other films from the ’80s (see Commando for the opposite). Gore is also presented in the film, like when Dutch’s team finds a group of mutilated US Green Berets (“He didn’t disappear. He was skinned alive!”) to the alien-hunter ripping spinal cords out of his fallen prey. Typical of ’80s action films, the body count is fairly high as well–especially when the team annihilates a camp of beaners or “bunch of half-assed mountain boys,” some of it slow-motion. Afterwards, the film turns into more of a slow burn with a heightened sense of doom, paranoia and fatalism, as the team is hunted one-by-one by the Predator. But throughout the film, one of its strongest assets (other than the violence) is the script and, of course, the one-liners (a staple of Schwarzenegger films). In just one of the many examples and in classic Arnold fashion, Dutch impales a beaner with his machete, glances at the camera with a crooked grin and says, “Stick around.” The film is excellent.

But don’t just take my word for it, if Oscar Wilde is correct in that “you can always judge a man by the quality of his enemies,” then the same should apply to a film, and its critics. For example, feminist movie critic and perpetual Jewish agitator, (((Susan Faludi))), author of Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Women and whose father was a Holocaust survivor (aren’t they all?), called the film one of “an endless stream of war and action movies” in which “women are reduced to mute and incidental characters or banished altogether.”

Adam Charles Roberts, author of Science Fiction, wrote of the film, “In John McTiernan’s Predator (1987) the savage hunter alien has dreadlocks, a clear enough signifier of blackness. He inhabits the jungle, preying violently and barbarically on the “Western” colonizers, be they American, “Dutch” or Hispanic. He also, when he finally uncovers his face at the end of the movie, has a peculiar mouth with teeth that look like bones pierced through his face; another “jungle man” caricature of racial blackness…In the first film the Predator is destroyed by the Aryan überman Arnold Schwarzenegger.” Even for right-wing death squad TRS readers and those who have viewed the film, this seems like a bit much and only through the lens of an SJW could someone make that connection.

What McTiernan produced on a meager budget (only 18 million) was an unusual mixture of genres: part hard action, part sci-fi and part horror/survival. The characters are larger than life and it’s appropriate that one of the commandoes is reading comic books, Sgt. Rock, and telling pussy jokes (…I can’t even…) and another is spitting tobacco juice between (and during) fire fights; the violence is primitive in its bloodshed. In other words, McTiernan made something truly rare–an original film in Hollywood (impossible in today’s world).

In 1987, Predator was innovative and new. In 2016, after many inferior imitators and four sequels (and more imitations to come), it still feels distinctive. Naturally, the sequels are layered with pozz (to varying degrees), which is why they’re substandard to the original. The 1990 sequel, Predator 2, has nutjob dindu Danny Glover as a hard-boiled LA detective. It has some good set pieces (thrilling train ride) and Bill Paxton does his best Bill Paxton performance. But a dindu lead, shitskin partner and strong woman trope don’t help the film, even with Gary Busey picking up the slack. The Alien vs. Predator spin-off franchise is so pathetic they aren’t worth mentioning (think fuzzy-haired strong jiggaboo woman as lead protagonist or “one…ugly motherfucker”). The 2010 Predators was directed by Hungarian Nimród E. Antal and had a decent premise and good action, but, no kidding fam, the survivors at the end of the film are heebs (“I see you” IDF).

None of the imitators compare to the original or have the same blend of adventure, scares and laughs. It may be a stretch, but I give this film 5 stars–we’ll never see a film as novel, gutsy and with this much macho action in Hollywood again.

PS. Conan defeats Apollo Creed in an arm wrestling match.

Ranking System:

0 Stars – Junior
1 Stars – Terminator Genisys
2 Stars – The 6th Day
3 Stars – Red Heat
4 Stars – The Running Man
5 Stars – Conan the Barbarian