If it bleeds, we can milk it to death.

I like to think that I've become cynical and jaded enough in my 40 years on this planet that I'm not surprised by much anymore. You might think that's a terrible and sad state of affairs, but I'm not really a fan of surprises so actually it's really not a problem. I'm particularly not surprised by 90% of what comes out of Hollywood any longer, in part because a quite vast majority of it is predictable crap. Disappointed often, perplexed sometimes but seldom surprised. You, in turn, will likely not have been surprised to hear of another Predator movie coming out; disappointed and perplexed maybe, but not surprised. You'll also not be terribly surprised to discover I was willing to throw money at it both literally and figuratively despite how fruitless either of those options might turn out.

I make no secret of how much I love Predator, nor how I'd defend the franchise long past the point of logic and reason (with the exception of AvP: Requiem which was unbridled shite which if you called it a dumpster fire, would be unfair on dumpsters, fires and any combination of the two). I was, as always, cautiously optimistic after the first trailer and then honestly I was totally sold by the whole glorious-looking mess it was bound to be. Besides, it was written and directed by Shane Black whose pedigree includes some Lethal Weapon and Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang, so how could this possibly fail, right? Well...

The Predator is a really weird movie to get a handle on. One the one hand, it is a very big, very dumb action movie and treating as anything other than that would be big and dumb in and of itself. On the other hand it is really, really dumb (especially considering it's a Shane Black script) and almost goes to great pains to shoot itself in the foot with a judiciously applied, shoulder mounted, laser-targeted plasma cannon. Obviously I loved every minute of it.

If you're in any way familiar with any of the Predator movies, you'll know that the premise is incredibly simple: alien hunter racks up the body count on an intergalactic safari. That's basically it and automatically presents you with a host of problems writing sequels; how do you expand on that without either simply transplanting the conflict to another location or putting beards on the Predators like they do with Tekken characters? The third option, it would appear, is to try and inject some sort of misplaced social commentary into a wafer thin plot and hope nobody notices the gaping holes you left racing from one impressive set piece to the next. So The Predator goes; a rogue Predator is on the run from his own people in order to deliver some sort of macguffin that will allow humans to fight back against the hunt and save the Earth from colonisation, or something. That's all very well and good, but you never actually find out why this particular Predator has decided to take our side on a global scale whilst still being apt to murder the ever-loving shit out of a military installation without so much as batting an eye or quivering a mandible. It's like he's the Predator equivalent of a born again Christian, ex-fur trader, tree-hugging hippy, who just happens to club a few seals on the weekend just to keep his hand in. The shenanigans start when the token female molecular biologist works out literally everything ever about the alien genome using a vial of green stuff and a home chemistry set. Turns out they aren't just taking trophies, they're nicking our DNA so they can splice themselves into the ultimate hunting machine on a genetic level, the sneaky little buggers. The fun really begins when the über-Predator rocks up, pulps the regular Predator's face in and starts homing in on our heroes.

Full disclosure: the whole thing is a ridiculous mess. Shane Black musters the same broad strokes lunacy he pumped into Martin Riggs for the PTSD riddled, ramshackle squad of soldiers that serve as fodder. If I'm honest, I was pre-warned that the movie didn't even remotely try to be sensitive or accurate about mental health issues and it doesn't; the dude with Tourettes is just there to get the obligatory Predator pussy jokes in which isn't particularly PC but I'll be damned if THAT aardvark line didn't have me in stitches, which probably makes me a terrible human being, but you probably already knew that. The rest of the squad each gets a brutally ham-fisted introduction (that the original never gave us or even needed to) and their own war-related psychotic tic and away we go. The kid with Asperger's is similarly one dimensional and seems to lose the more debilitating parts of his condition about half way through because reasons. Is it the smart, erudite script we would usually expect from Black? Not remotely, but actually the characterisation and dialogue is the least of our worries.

I'm not entirely sure how it happened, but somehow, possibly using dark magic and arcane secrets from beyond this mortal coil, Black has crafted an entire plot almost entirely out of deus ex machina. Everything, and I truly mean everything is just improbably easy. No red herrings, nothing that causes more than a moment's thought before the answer conveniently presents itself in the form of a lobotomised space dog showing us the way to the next fire fight or the child on the autistic spectrum who just so happens to have exactly the right sort of mental acuity to decode alien spaceships. It probably doesn't help that it's been edited to absolute ribbons; there are points where it's just not possible to know who is where doing what. The main human bad guy probably doesn't make it out alive but honestly, I have no recollection of whether or not he bought the farm. There's a bit where I was convinced Olivia Munn got the business from a plasma cannon but then she rocked up in the next scene so I guess one of the more feminine mercenaries got it instead. When the macguffin finally does show up, it's a finale that feels for all intents and purposes like it should have been a post credits sting; groan inducing and unabashedly aiming for a sequel dependent on box office receipts.

Here's the thing: despite all its many glaring flaws, its painfully shallow characters and non-PC tone-deafness I absolutely and unapologetically loved it. It's the kind of popcorn fodder action blockbuster that doesn't give two greasy shits as to whether you approve or not and just gets on with things; 'things' here having the mean of chopping, shooting and blowing stuff up. What's not to like?