Predators sees a ragtag group of humans air-dropped onto a strange planet, where they’re bullied by the local vagina-mouthed wildlife.
On paper, Predators looks an appealing candidate for a reboot – beasties are reborn all the time (think of all the Frankensteins and Draculas down the years) and the abortive AVP movies left the dreadlocked bounty hunter crying out for a re-think.
Under Nimród Antal’s direction (with Robert Rodriguez in the producer’s chair), the film is a solid, sensibly back-to-basics franchise refresher, offering all the blood and grunting you could possibly want.
Aside from a few smoky stretches where you can’t tell Predator from prey, the main flaw lies with the casting. Not that they’re a bunch of no-talents – Topher Grace and Alice Braga come fully loaded with smarts.
But in John McTiernan’s 1987 genre classic, it felt like a more even match between the title fiend and larger-than-life brutes like Schwarzenegger and Jesse Ventura.
With the exception of bona fide party-wrecker Danny Trejo, this new crop of monster stompers often look laughably out-gunned.
No matter how much mud and muscle he slaps on, Adrien Brody is no action hero.
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