Script
excerpt #1
PHILIPS
Eighteen hours ago I was
informed that one of our
choppers, transporting three
presidential cabinet members
from this charming little
country – and I say this as a
point of heavy-handed irony to indicate my contempt for anywhere outside of
North America - was shot down...
(points to the
circled area)
This
is really bad because cabinet ministers are important to running our country.
They could also be ransomed or interrogated for information that might
compromise our national security.
The pilots radioed from the
ground that they were all
alive. Their position was
fixed by the transponder – a
device that emits an interrogating signal in response to an interrogating
received signal -
beacon onboard the chopper.
(points)
Here.
Schaefer
studies the map. He looks up at Philips.
SCHAEFER
That's over the border,
General. I am suspicious
about this because we do not normally send cabinet ministers over the border.
We also have no legal jurisdiction there. It will be dangerous because locals
have the advantage.
PHILIPS
(dead serious)
That's the problem. Apparently
they strayed off course.
(pause)
We're certain they've been
captured by the guerrillas.
This would be bad because, in case the audience didn’t get the point earlier,
our national security would be compromised. The guerrillas don’t like us. They
are brown people and they are bad.
Schaefer
looks up, puffing lightly on the cigar.
PHILLIPS
Why do you always smoke those
cigars, major?
SCHAEFER
It is a
symbol that serves to remind the audience of a number of things – my social
status, authority, ruggedness and excessive traditional masculinity. They may
infer from its scale and phallic shape that I am equally well endowed.
(quietly)
That’s it for thematic
exposition just now. Let’s get back to the plot. What have you got in mind, General?
Script Excerpt #2
SCHAEFER
Dillon, you son of a bitch.
The
two men step forward and simultaneous swing from
the hip as it to land a
punch...but their hands SLAP
together in a gesture of
friendship, their forearms
bulging, testing each
other's strength.
DILLON
(warmly)
How you been, Dutch?
They
continue the contest, Schaefer has the edge, forcing
Dillon's arm slowly
downward.
SCHAEFER
You've been pushing too many
Pencils, Dillon. If people
didn’t gather you had been out of soldiering for some time, I’d just like to
underline that your physical strength is diminished. This will also serve to
demonstrate that I am more masculine than you. Had enough?
DILLON
(grinning)
No way, old buddy.
SCHAEFER
You never did know when to
quit. I hope that this does
not lead to a dramatic conflict between us later, or even lead to your death as
you stubbornly face-off against an opponent who vastly outclasses you.
…THE POINT OF ALL THIS
I love Predator. In many ways,
it is a more perfect sci-fi actioner than Aliens.
The effects still stand up today, the script is tight and efficient, the
set-pieces punchily cut yet imbued with fluid movement. It is a simple film,
and it should not be any other way. Running it through the Nolaniser, as I have
done so above, clearly does it no favours.
A quote often credited to Albert Einstein is that “any idiot can make things
more complicated – it takes real genius to make things simple”. Predator must be genius. The original
script and movie have invented many clichés for us to abuse today, and is built
upon gleefully cheesy archetypes. It knows what it is meant to be, and isn’t
frightened of it.
It also isn’t frightened that the audience might not know what it is
meant to be, or that they may not understand its zeitgeist references to South
American tensions, or basic symbolism.
This is where Christopher Nolan comes in.
I’ve critiqued his work in detail before, so I shall keep this brief and
have faith in my audience to follow what I am saying. I do not tend to enjoy
Nolan films, and if I do it is only the first time. Once their gimmicks and
plot convolutions are exposed, they are almost impossible to re-watch. There is
nothing else to them. What bothers me most is that almost anything he is
involved in spends much of its time explaining how clever it is to the audience
and – by extension – how clever they are for watching. There is so much
exposition and explication in his films, Inception
and parts 2&3 of his Dark Knight
work especially, that they can be very tiresome to watch. If you already got
the point, it feels like your teeth are being pulled. If you didn’t get the
point, it is because Nolan is so poor at communicating through images, actions
and throwaway metaphorical lines that only a page of prose can really save it.
I think my Nolanisation of Predator’s script is just the tip of the iceberg,
but if you feel I’m being a little unrealistic I should refer you to some key
scenes in his films, starting with a better one that still uses ‘the world’s
greatest detective’ as a cypher for an audience that ‘might not understand’ the
metaphor:
I’m fairly certain people would be able to figure out the point on their
own, but Bruce still asks the question and Alfred still has to answer it. It’s
not so in your face as some moments, but still overdone. Here’s another
unnecessarily explicit one:
We’ve already seen Bane being badass. We know Bruce is injured. We can
guess he’ll get his ass handed to him by Bane – and he does. Wouldn’t it have
been more gratifying for the audience’s prediction to be correct, rather than
to make it an ‘I-told-you-so’ moment for Alfred. Everything’s been communicated
visually. There is no point in the two minutes you have just witnessed. The
film Austin Powers even mocks this
tendency before the time of Nolan by naming its exposition character … Basil
Exposition. Inception is full of lengthy, talky exposition, but this episode of South Park called Insheeption illustrates the
point far more elegantly (i.e through images rather than prose) than I could.
I feel that Nolan is really sucking the joy out of cinema with this kind
of thing; pandering to a generation of people who just blurt out, “Who’s this?
Why’s he doing that? Why’s Hulk green? Why won’t you like him when he’s angry?”
rather than just watching and seeing. The audience is robbed of their journey,
of thinking for themselves about what things mean and then seeing if they were
right. Or perhaps Nolan is so insecure regarding his ownership of the film that
he deliberately shuts down future discussion by being so explicit. He doesn’t often
want critics to ponder or audiences to argue about meaning or message. It’s
nice that he throws us a bone with the spinning top at the end of Inception where this issue is concerned.
Predator, for all its lack of apparent complexity, is a thematically rich film.
In many ways it is incredibly clever; in the very least it is perfectly paced
and sequenced so that we do not need wordy explanations beyond the opening
briefing which I ran through the Nolaniser.
So how is Predator clever? Let
me slip on my Michael Caine mask and I’ll explain through lengthy prose.
Thematically, Predator is a
great constructor and deconstructor. It delights in building up modern notions
of masculinity just to smash them down. After the briefing and character
establishment we have the chopper ride into the jungle, where – superficially
at least – the heroes trade sexist banter. The song playing over the top – Long Tall Sally - is about a woman
luring a man away from his wife (Short fat Fanny). Two men – Hawkins and Blaine
– subtly manage to reveal their own sexual insecurity. With Hawkins it is through
immature pussy gags, with Blaine it is claims of being transformed into a
“goddamn sexual Tyrannosaurus” by chewing tobacco. The wonderful irony is that
they will be the ones getting shafted in this movie!
In a masterful piece of sequencing we then get a Demonstration of
Competence moment wherein our team blasts through a guerrilla encampment. This
serves two functions. When the titular Predator begins hunting down the team
with ease, we can tell it is a whole new level of badass. We do not need Alfred
to tell us it is badass up front. Our expectations are toyed with. Additionally,
it helps deconstruct the notion of western military supremacy. The elite commando
team is picked off by a tree-swinger hiding in the foliage. It fires plasma
projectiles, granted, but its weapon still fires about as slowly as an arrow
and its camouflage is simply a better version of camouflage that we have used
for millennia. Schaefer (Dutch) and his team are so used to fighting with the
biggest guns, their balls out and always winning that they are simply
unprepared for a foe that has completely mastered the most basic, fundamental
aspects of killing.
So Predator is about the
failure of cigar-chomping modern masculinity on one level. But on another level,
it completely turns the masculinity level on its head. Dutch is stripped down
to his barest essentials, using mud as camouflage and weapons made from
whittled wood, stone and good old dependable fire. He becomes the truly
old-school rugged male – beating the elements, turning them to his advantage
improvising his way out of everything in a battle where brains end up meaning
more than brawn. So, his sophisticated commando team is beaten by a creature
that employs primitive ambush tactics and the way Dutch beats it is to reduce
himself to a level that’s even more
primitive! Could this movie even be making a statement about how
industrialisation has dulled our edge? Nah, that’s probably over-egging it.
…probably. Good job we were not told this by the movie. Where would be
the fun in that?
About the Author
David M. Jackson believes that movies should be built for speed, and
that Predator’s got everything that
Uncle John needs. Oh baby. Yeah baby. Woo-oo baby. I’m havin’ me some fun
tonight.
When he’s not smothering himself with mud and preparing to do battle with
Christopher Nolan in the depths of the jungle, David teaches English and
Sociology in between hurriedly writing novels. In a few months his second, Beta Ascending, will furtively slip into
Amazon’s marketplace.
More from David M. Jackson:
