Not a sequel and not quite a reboot, Predators sits in that no-man’s land of derivation, where a franchise is plundered mainly for its conceptual cachet, and continuity and reinvention are cast aside as hopelessly old-fashioned. Conceiving of their audience as a chronic video-game player, the filmmakers seem to have figured that fans want only minor variations on the same experience, over and over again. Not that such a calculation is below a franchise born as a goof (the original screenwriters were inspired by a joke that followed the release of Rocky IV : If that franchise were to continue, he’d have to fight an alien) and forced into the indignity of the Predator vs. Alien films. Fans of the original, which had Arnold Schwarzenegger wasting a killer extraterrestrial in Guatemala, have likely grown resigned to disappointment with its descendents; Predators will not change that entirely, but it may summon enough fond memories to sneak by.
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REVIEW: Ask Not What Predators Does For Adrien Brody, Ask What Adrien Brody Does For Predators
