My Avatar Revew-Bullet Format

I've been struggling with this blog for awhile. Not only is it a review of the movie, I was also going to follow up with an essay called "The Eye and the Web: Symbols of Gender Politics in the world of 'Avatar'". Frankly, the essay and the review were getting a bit boring to write, which means it would be torture for you readers. Therefore for the sake of brevity, I'll just write my blog in bullet points:

Review:

• Go see "Avatar", especially in 3D. It is awesome! (And by "awesome" I mean that it does indeed inspire awe.)
  

• Zoe Saldana should be recognized for here amazing work in this film. Much of the movie depends on her. If we viewers don't fall in love with her character, then the whole project becomes pointless. Saldana breaths so much vitality into her digital character that the viewer quickly accepts the character's reality and the reality of the world of Pandora. Kudos for a great effort.

Essay (Spoiler Warning):

• The genius of the movie "Avatar" is the detail and depth attributed to the ecology and culture of the world of Pandora.

• If you pay attention, you will see key, recurring visual symbols and dialogue clues that help the viewer gain a better understanding of the contrast between human and Na'vi culture, in relation to gender politics.

• In the human world, our genders are symbolized by the Mars and Venus

• In the movie war-like Mars is represented by Colonel Miles Quaritch (played by Stephen Lang), the leader of the Pandora Colony security forces. Quaritch sees environment Pandora as the embodiment ultimate enemy and responds in kind.

• Venus is represented by Dr. Grace Augustine, chief scientist and head of the Avatar program, played by Sigourney Weaver. As an ecologist, Augustine recognizes that the true value of the Pandora planet lies in the interconnectedness of the flora and fauna, and she struggles (in vain) to protect the Na'vi from the depredations of the human forces.

• It should be noted that both Quaritch and Augustine are able to alternatively manipulate and intimidate the other characters to achieve their respective goals, but they seen to be neither afraid or impressed by the other. This reinforces the Mars/Venus dichotomy represented by each character as they are opponents of old, and rest of the characters are almost like pawns to be sacrificed, in the name of their eternal gender wars.

• In contrast, the Na'vi culture strikes a more fruitful balance between the genders, and this balance is represented by the recurring symbols of the Eye (male) and the Web (female).

• Recurring male-Eye symbols: the movie opens and closes on close ups of the main character's eyes; Pandora is a moon of the gas giant planet named "Polyphemus" which, much like Jupiter, contains a central storm system that looks like a giant eye; the planet "Polyphemus" is named after the the one-eyed cyclops from Greek mythology and Homer's "Odyssey"; Na'vi warriors perform a ritual blessing over the animals they kill for sustenance by speaking the words "I see you" over the body.

• In the context of the movie, the Eye represents awakening and epiphany.

• Recurring female-Web symbols: The Na'vi name for Pandora is "Eywa" which roughly translates to "Gaea", the primordial Mother deity of Greek mythology (in early drafts of the script the "Gaea" allusion was made more distinctly clear); Augustine slowly discovers that the Eywa plant life emit a measurable form of bio-electricity, which not only explains why all lifeforms on the moon is bio-luminescent, but also indicates that this energy can transmit bio-data between the lifeforms; the Na'vi are equipped with an external central nervous system (CNS) node that allows them to "network" with riding animals and certain plant life; in spiritual rituals, the Na'vi, arrange themselves in a bodily "web" focused around a central focal point.

• In the context of the movie, the Web represents spiritual connectivity between lifeforms.

• In the Na'vi culture, the traditional male/female roles are not as divided as in human culture. For example: Na'vi tribes are lead by male/female pair; the male is responsible for the physical well being of the tribe (hunting, shelter, security) while the female is responsible for the spiritual well being (maintaining tribal history, schooling, agriculture, diplomacy between the tribes). Each member has equal status.
  

• Other examples of the inter-connectivity of genders in Na'vi culture: both males and females are taught to be warriors; the "I see you" blessing is used in hunting rituals as well as mating rituals; during the Na'vi rite of passage for the male male character, the tribe forms a web with him at the focal point; during the Na'vi mating ritual, both the Eye ("I see you") and the Web (connecting CNS nodes) are represented.
  

• The main theme of the movie for me is that the strength of the Na'vi culture is due to the populations ability to maintain deep physical and spiritual connections with the environment, something that is lacking in human culture. The movie is a warning from James Cameron which is kind of ironic. The man is mainly known for pushing technology to the extreme to service his movie making. Yet is should be noted that all his stories are allegorical warnings about the dangers of technology running amok as well as, showing us how the strength of the human spirit (often represented by strong female characters) can help us overcome the most apocalyptic of events.
  

• Other miscellaneous things to point out: the battle techniques of the Na'vi are reminiscent of the guerrilla (read: terroristic) tactics used by smaller, poorly equipped warriors against larger, more technically advanced armies; the destruction of Hometree is a directly evocative of the destruction of the Twin Towers (even down to the ash-covered landscape); and Quaritch's physical mannerisms (walking "apelike" with fists clenched and palms facing to the rear) and use of terms such as "shock and awe" reminds me of a ballsier, scarier, George W. Bush.
  

Foreign Matter

List of the movies I've watched so far since January 1, 2009:

La Mome / La Vie en Rose

A superb biopic from French director Olivier Dahan about the life and times of the legendary Edith Piaf. The film stars Marion Cotilliard, who was awarded the Academy Award for Best Actress last year for her efforts.



Cotialliard's performance is mesmerizing, and it's tremendous how she uses every bit of body language, make-up, and voice-talent to bring Edith Piaf to life.

Crappy Rating Rhyme: La Vie en Rose certainly won't make you doze!

Lust/Caution

A glib analysis of Ang Lee's canon would be to say that he keeps remaking Romeo and Juliet, i.e., his movies all have the following elements:

• two people fall in love/lust/passion... whatever...;
• each person is bound to an entrenched lifestyle governed by societal and/or familial traditions;
• their shared love in in major conflict to their life, and because of that...
• their love is doomed;
• one of the lovers dies and/or runs away to the South American jungle in an effort to control his Hulk powers;
• the other lover tries to come to terms with the ruined affair (ultimately futile)

Thing is, he does it so well. And aside from the unfortunate detour that was the Hulk, he keeps getting better and better.



A lot of the buzz about this movie comes from the explicit the sex scenes, and holy crap, are they scorching. Hint: If you like sex scenes where you see the guy's ball sac, prepare yourself to see some ball sac! Kudos to Tang Wei and Tony Leung who demonstrate such bravery in their performances. And not only in the sex scenes. There is a raw nakedness to the performances throughout the film. It's quite astonishing

Crappy Rating System: Who has two thumbs and likes Ang Lee movies? THIS GUY!!!
(I couldn't rhyme "caution".)

Sukiayki Western: Django

Director Takashi Miike is well known for his arresting cinematic mash-ups. In Audition, he mixed light-romantic comedy with psychological horror. With Ichi the Killer he mixed a Japanese Yakuza epic with... well horror again in such a disturbing manner part of me wishes I could un-watch that movie. With Sukiyaki Western: Django he mixes the spaghetti western with a samurai epic.

I, soooo, wanted to like this film. A Japanese film homage where all the actors speak English. Sound like it was right up my alley. But instead of kitchy-cool, the movie was like to dialogue: Without context, hard to understand and out of sync. Still, it has one of the best final scenes in movie history. Yep, even better than Deathproof. For those of you who don't like spoilers, beware the following clip:



Cool, huh? I just with the whole movie was like that.

Crappy Rating Rhyme: I'm sorry but Django is a no-go.

Misc:

• I really liked Zack and Miri Make a Porno. It was sweet and disgusting at the same time. Pure Kevin Smith.
• I'm bumping Q-Tip's The Renaissance on the I-Pod quite regularly know. It's the return of soulful, creative and innovative hip-hop.
• I tried reading The Last Temptation of Christ, but like the Bible itself, I lost patience with the language. The Scorsese film is superb, though!
• Kazuo Koike and Goseki Kojima's Samurai Executioner is fantastic. A sobering and sometimes very graphic meditation on justice and punishment. Not recommended for every reader. Pick this one up using your own discretion.
  

Supervillains

A little over a year ago, while I was hammering away at another blog on sheer crap-titude of the movie 300 , I put forth a list of rules that make a superhero movie successful. One of those rules was that the supervillain had to be somewhat sympathetic. The idea is that a bad guy you can sympathize with is the scariest kind of bad guy, because if you can relate their point of view, you are easier to seduce, and thus emotionally complicit with some of the acts they commit. Like all rules, this one should be tested rigorously for validity, so I submit to you the profile of three villains making some waves in recent pop culture as case study for the Sympathetic Supervillain rule.

Case Study #1 - Dr Horrible, from Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog.

Pro's

• good singer;
• sweetly goofy;
• has nice taste in women;
• has an underdog quality that make you wanna root for him;
• wants to change the world
  

Con's

• wants to change the world, but through evil;
• his arch nemesis is a pretty-boy, prima-donna lunkhead;
• embrace of video blogging makes it easy to foil evil schemes;
• has supremely bad timing with women.

It's not hard to sympathize with Dr. Horrible. Even though he's the bad guy, we still root for him, because he... is Us. He's the put-downable, the down-trodded-ed, the nerd who always gets beaten and never gets the girl. At some point in our lives (oh, like in high school, maybe?) we've all been Dr. Horrible.

We get him.

We are him.

That's what makes the first two episodes of Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog so charming (the acting, and song-writing should be commended). And that's what makes the last episode so sad. The turn of events in the last episode gets the viewer, because the viewer has invested a lot of sympathy in... with... Dr. Horrible, we root for him as the underdog, and then in the final act, we feel partially responsible with the consequences of his actions.

Overall the series is short, but really affecting, and as a villain, Dr. Horrible is pretty compelling.

Case Study #2 - Dexter, from Dexter.

Pro's

• really, really clean;
• really, really good at his job;
• really, really good boyfriend, brother and father-surrogate;
• really, really good with scalpels and power tools.

Con's

• serial killer in his spare time;
• has a dark raging black hole of a soul that is periodically filled by the torment of his victims;
  
• lives in Miami.
  

Dexter: forensics expert by day, serial killer by night. But get this... he's a good serial killer. He only goes after others like him.

Funny enough, the things that makes Dexter a great killer are the same things we look for in a comic superhero. He's charming, efficient and good at bringing evil-doer's to justice. Well... only if you consider "justice" to be torture, dismemberment and burial in a deep sea grave. He has his mild-mannered alter ego (quirky but efficient blood-splatter expert for the Miami police by day), he has a costume (when Dexter hunts, he's prone to wearing black jeans, black knit-shirts and black hoodies), and a nifty utility belt (his medical tools are housed in a really nice, tan, leather satchel). In many ways the conceit of the TV show Dexter is a deconstruction of the typical superhero story. The tension in the story lies not in rationalizing the various violent acts Dexter commits. It lies in the common superhero trope: Will Dexter's boss, family, girlfriend find out what he does in the dark watches of the night?

We sympathize with Dexter through his plight. He, like we, has secrets that we fear might alarm polite society. The funny thing is, as each episode goes by, we come to realize that the other people in Dexter's world, his sister, his co-workers, his lover, maybe even his father, have deep dark secrets that pale next his his own.

Case Study #3 - The Joker, from The Dark Knight.

Pro's

• uh... none!
  

Con's

• designed to evoke your antipathy;
• twitching, asymmetrical posture
• diseased facial paint and scarring,
  
• dissonant voice from Perdition,
  
• greasy hair (you can practically see the bugs flying around amongst the strands).

Despite the Con's, for some reason, people love the Joker. He's sexy. Hell, even Batman can find it in himself to kill the him, despite the fact the Joker more than deserves it.

The question is why. Why is the Joker so compelling?

Maybe because we're attracted to power. Maybe we're attracted to the dark things. The Joker amoral, anarchic and totally devoid of simple human empathy. He is the Batman's complete psychological Other. While Batman has a rational origin, the Joker is irrationality brought life. It's as if Gotham City itself organically hatched a maniacal Dionysus in response the Batman Apollonian existence. In other words, The Joker is the city, the environment balancing it's scales. Maybe we're attracted to Joker because were attracted to the same irrationality that resides within us. Maybe the Batman saves the Joker in the end because he... (read: "we")... need him.

To paraphrase Alan Moore, without the Joker, the Batman is just some nutcase who shows up to a brawl wearing a mask with pointy ears. Keep in mind even while fighting to uphold societies laws, the Batman, a vigilante, breaks them. The notion of superheroism cannot support itself for long unless you got some really, crazy, clown distracting the general population from the fact that you are just a slightly less crazy goon.

So my friends, send in the clowns! Send in the charming killers, the hatchers of evil-plots, and the doer's of manic misdeeds. Call them "villains" if you must, but know this... to someone, somewhere... they are the true hero's.

Plain old Greed.

There Will Be Blood, directed by Paul Thomas Anderson



The reason I'm writing this blog is because my friend Grant wrote a review on it on his Facebook page, and I want to "one-up" him. How funny is it that the movie we both saw together, and both decided to comment on is about a man who's over-weening sense of pride, competition and greed eventually leads to his total moral destruction. I would say would propose that this is somewhat ironic, except, I really don't know what the literal meaning of "irony" is. I think I'll look it up...



There has been enough ink spilled over the greatness of this movie to replenish a southern Californian oil field, and really you're not going to hear much different here. I would dare say this film is my generations The Godfather. Friggin' awesome.

This is the fourth movie I've watched in as many weeks that has greed as a story central element. Wall Street, Goodfellas, Casino and There Will Be Blood are pretty damn apt representations of the effect that greed has exhibited on human culture within my lifetime. From junk bonds to asset-backed credits, from the Savings & Loan scandal to the sub-prime mortgage meltdown, from Gordon Gekko, Henry Hill, "Ace" Rothstein, to Daniel Plainview, therein lies anything that everyone ever needs to know about the ultimate effects of greed.

In There Will Be Blood, Daniel Plainfield (as played by Daniel Day-Lewis) stakes out oil claims in early 1900's Southern California with his son, H.W. Plainfield, in tow.



But I think the key relationship in this movie, the overriding relationship that decides the fate of all characters, is the relationship between the elder Plainfield to his symbolic son Eli Sunday (as played by Paul Dano).



Both men could be kin. Both are driven by an overriding desire to acquire power, both exhibit a sense of contempt for other humans, both are unlikable human beings, but yet both have charisma powerful enough to attract others and the ability to bend their followers to their desires.

The one thing that separates them is that Daniel Plainview is self-aware. He knows he's a bastard, readily admits it, and struggles against every societal convention that forces him to pretend otherwise. Eli, on the other hand, does not even have the virtue of self-awareness. He's an opportunist who hides behind his theatre of faith. Plainview regards him with specific contempt. From his point of view, Eli builds his fortune by fleecing his flock, while trying to milk money and power from Daniel's fortune. A fortune that was built when Daniel, after a mining accident that resulted in a shattered knee, crawled on his back across miles of desert to the closest land registration office stake his first claim on an oil well.

The ultimate confrontation between these two characters is what makes this movie great. I will not even begin to spoil a climax that the movie builds with such masterful tension. I just recommend you watch There Will Be Blood, right away.

And take that Grant...

The Color of Money

In most discussions of Martin Scorsese's canon, The Color of Money (1986) is often peripherally mentioned, as if the movie does not deserve the same respect granted to other Scorsese movies, such as Mean Streets, Goodfellas and the Oscar-winning The Departed. Martin Scorsese himself admits that the movie, a pairing of veteran Hollywood icon Paul Newman with the new superstar-in-the-making Tom Cruise, was made on the quick to finance his real passion project, The Last Temptation of Christ.

Still, I feel that The Color of Money is an admirable movie, an underrated but truly satisfying tale. I feel it deserves discussion, and should be defended a wonderful film in it's own right.

In The Color of Money, Paul Newman reprises the role of "Fast" Eddie Felson, the pool player from 1961's The Hustler. Yet, I think it would be wrong to consider the Scorsese's movie a sequel. It's too original, it stands firmly in its own shoes. To me, The Color of Money feels much like the continuation of a late night discussion with a good friend about great modern movies. It reminds me of that "after midnight, tired but too jazzed to go to sleep" feeling one gets while sitting in a 24-hr diner at 2:00 in the morning with a group of good friends, after spending all of Saturday night partying. The movie has it's own distinct energy.

As the movie begins we see that "Fast" Eddie Felson has long since quit playing pool, and has become a successful liquor salesman. His business keeps him in close periphery to pool playing, and every once-in-a-while, he acts as a stakehorse to the next breed of young pool hustlers. But, one of his players loses to Vincent, played by Tom Cruise. Vincent, at first, seems more interested in playing an arcade video game that 9-ball. But soon Eddie realizes that Vincent is a gifted natural, and is bemused and somewhat shocked when Vincent offers the broke, busted and humiliated pool hustler $20 to keep playing.

Eddie takes Vincent, and his girlfriend/handler Carmen (played beautifully by Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio) to dinner and offers them a deal. Eddie will stakehorse Vincent for six weeks on the road, in anticipation of a big-money 9-ball tournament in Atlantic City. For 60% of the winnings he will teach both Vincent and Carmen the in's and out's of pool hustling. The rest of the movie deals with the formation of a tense relationship between these three characters, and the betrayal and redemption of "Fast" Eddie Felson.


The move contains many enjoyable elements. It is a movie of its time. You can quickly tell that this is a movie made in the mid-80's, much like how you can tell Cool Hand Luke was definitely made in the 60's. But, the movie manages to maintain a certain integrity, and resists feeling dated, unlike earlier Tom Cruise vehicles like Risky Business, Top Gun and Taps. Also this movie can be seen as a ceremonial changing of guard between the veteran Hollywood icon and the younger, upstart but talented superstar.

But the best element about the film is how the character arcs of the two leads, cross and mirror each other. At the beginning of the film, Eddie is a jaded cynic, in counterpoint to Vincent's naive cockiness. While Vincent is willing to pay out cash just to entice people to play him, Eddie sees pool (and Vincent) as a means to an end. "Money won is ten times as sweet as money earned," Eddie preaches to his new but wayward apostle, and the veteran tries to steer the acolyte beyond nickle and dime hustles into big time cash, being sure to charge his 60% no matter the size of the pot.

Somewhere in the middle of the film, Eddie realizes to his horror that he's hustling himself as much as he's hustling Vincent. Eddie realizes that what attracts him to Vincent is not the kid's money-making potential. It's the kids talent. Scary, natural talent that younger "Fast" Eddie once had, but old Eddie has lost. Eddie wants to be the kid's equal, he want his game back. After falling for a con perpetrated by Forest Whitaker (in a great cameo), Eddie unceremoniously ditches Carmen and Vincent and begins his own quest to get regain his skills.

Eventually, Eddie earns his place in the Atlantic City tournament, and re-encounters Vincent and Carmen. The once cocky, naive kid is gone, innocence burned away by Eddie's betrayal. This new Vincent is calculating and ruthless. He no longer plays for the enjoyment of the game, he plays for cold hard cash, eventually dumping a game against his former teacher in order to increase the odds on the bets played on the backroom games. Eddie though discovers that his earlier cynicism was a mask, and his "play for cash" ethic was an elaborate self-con. Eddie rediscovers the love for the game, no, rather the love of the win. Eddie learns what the more innocent Vincent knew from the start. Money is just a symbol for the win, it's the win that always motivated Vincent, and it's that lasting, haunting whiff of the win that kept Eddie hanging around bars and pool halls. To be The Winner, Eddie has to beat the best player, and his redemption lies in Vincent's willingness to grant his former teacher his best game.

The movie offers much for a film lover. One could write a book on the sheer gravity-defying pompadour that Vincent wears throughout the film. Scorsese's use of Warren Zevon's song Werewolves of London as Vincent plays pool is a near perfect synthesis of a music and visuals. It is as iconic as the "ear scene" in Reservoir Dogs (Stuck in the Middle With You, Steelers Wheel), or the opening credit sequence for Trainspotting (Lust for Life, Iggy Pop).



Character actors should study Bill Cobbs's role as Orvis as a primer on how, with just one look, one can steal a scene from a burgeoning superstar. I haven't even begun to sing the praises for Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio, and the strength and subtle vulnerability she brings to the role of Carmen. This movie is too full of riches just to be cast off as momentarily blip along Scorsese's road to Oscar glory.

Aliens Vs. Predator: Race and Gender Politics in Horror

In his 1981 book Danse Macabre, a treatise on the horror genre, Stephen King writes that horror stories hits us on two levels. There is the "on-top" level, where we are alternately trilled and grossed out by the gore. It's the exploitive pleasure, similar to rubber-necking a highway collision, and although we may be wracked by guilt, or bad-dreams... dammit we just can't help but look.

And then there is the "down-below" level, where the horror hits us in the deep dark places. For all our technological progress, North American society generally remains a tribe of Puritans, and we like to inhibit our psycho-sexual race consciousness as much as possible.

In other words, we like to keep things bottled-up. Much like Victorian Age Brits, we don't like to look too deeply at ourselves. Maybe this is why we generally feel like we're under so much pressure. The Apollonian outer image we present is sometimes at odds with the "down-below", truer Dionysian inner reality. Stephen King summarizes that the horror genre serves as a pressure valve to help us relieve that pressure every once in a while.

So what is it that we North Americans are so afraid of. Well, my friends, pull up an armchair, and sit with me as we (without benefit of degrees or training) psychoanalyze ourselves for a while. We shall begin by looking at the two most evocative horror villains of recent history: Aliens and Predators.

Gay Aliens From Outer Space

Ever look at an Alien? I mean really look at one. The Alien creature that was first introduced in 1979 in Ridley Scott's seminal science fiction masterpiece was designed by H.R. Giger. It's inspired by one of his earlier works, titled Necronom IV, reproduced here for your inspection:



I don't think that there's any overstating that the Alien (aka, "xenomorph" as it was called in James Cameron's sequel, Aliens) is essentially a seven foot bio mechanical penis. Let's also take a look at the key features in the creatures canonical lore:

• it reproduces by forcing an ovipositor down your throat (note the creature design... Giger based it on human hands, spine, vagina and testicles);
  
  



• after incubating inside a human host it "hatches" by forcing its phallic little body from inside your body;
  
  



• it's blood is deadly acid.

Hmmm, a horror story about forced oral-genetic rape from a toothed phallus with deadly blood... made just around the same time the AIDS epidemic was becoming known. Story creators Dan O'Bannon and Ronald Shusett knowingly including these elements in the creature design for the express purpose of scaring the crap out of the males who fit the general demographic markers of a horror movie audience. You see, there's nothing the red-blooded North American males loves more than his own dick, and nothing scares him more than having to take somebody else's dick.

All this is known. I mean this is not a secret. And this is not in itself what makes the Aliens franchise special. Really, what resonates with us is not the villain, it's the villain juxtaposed with the hero. The Alien wouldn't be as evocative if it wasn't for Ellen Ripley as played by Sigourney Weaver. It is notable that in a genre dominated by muscle men, all perish at the hands of the Alien except a woman.

In the original 1979 movie, one scene that masterfully (and somewhat exploitively) displays the character's savvyness and vulnerability. In the closing minutes of the movie, Ripley slowly becomes aware that the Alien that decimated her crew has stowed away on her escape space vessel. The only way to get rid of it is to blow it out the main hatch using depressurization in the vacuum of space. The only way she can survive that is to don a pressurized space suit. So slowly, carefully, Ripley doffs her crew uniform in the presence of the malevolent creature (why? who cares?) so and dons the space suit in time to save herself.


So here it is: gender politics writ large. Gay sex and heterosexual titillation. Our nasty little sexual secrets, the things we don't like to discuss in polite company. But when it's shown on the big screen, we can't get enough.

The Universal Zulu Nation

In the 1987 film, Predator, Arnold Schwarzenegger and a rag-tag bunch of mercenaries discover themselves in the South American jungle fighting a technically advanced, completely ruthless alien, who seems to be hunting humans and taking skulls and spines as trophies. The alien in question was designed by Stan Winston, based on a brief conversation with director James Cameron. (Coincidentally, Stan and James both had the opportunity to further the xenomorph design in Aliens.) James had the idea of the mandibles, but it was Stan who had the idea for the dreadlocks. And it's the dreadlocks I want to discuss, because of the statement it makes on the creature design, and the impact it has on the overall character traits.

The dreadlocks imply a race based on Caribbean/African cultures, a pastiche further reinforced by the tribal nature of the Predators. They are hunters and take trophies. They wear tribal markings and ornamentation on their flesh and armor. They are bred for strength and are physically larger, faster and stronger than humans. The weaponry they wield are based on spears, knives and bladed weapons. (Younger Predators are known to use guns and plasma blasters, but apparently according to canon, older, more experienced Predators look down upon that practice). The race is matriarchal, and employs rites of passages, the most well known being that only the most experienced of hunters make their way to Earth to hunt humans. Returning to the home planet with a human skull was a sign of great worth.



Does the Predator serve as a proxy for Earth based tribal warrior races? In my mind, I would consider it representative the most prevalent stereotypes of brown-skinned peoples. I find it an intriguing concept. Note, in the first movie Arnie mortally wounded the Predator creature, but did not kill it. It killed itself by activating its self-destruct mechanism, laughing all the way to the end of its life, satisfied that the Guv-nuh was denied credit for the final kill. In Predator 2, Danny Glover was the first human ever to fight and successfully kill a Predator. It is also notable that at the end of that movie, the Predator brethren recognize Mr. Glover's prowess by awarding him a Civil War era pistol, his very own trophy and a sign of grudging respect.

Requiem

Aliens and Predators have been around for over 20 years. The early movies from each franchise are significant, earning recognition from the esteemed American Film Institute. Later movies have provided diminishing creative returns. Based on the box office of the last two movies, combining the characters will continue to be financially profitable, although creatively limiting. Part of the reason is that the movies are not really scary anymore. They are not hitting our deep "down-below" spots as effectively.

Why? Maybe it's because we live in a society where gay folks can marry (at least up here in Canadaland... we love ya!), and a Black man is running a legitimate campaign for Presidency. I thing though, it could be attributed to other reasons. We have other things to fear.

What do we fear now? Let's look at today's horror movies. The Saw franchise doesn't quit, and ushered in a new genre called "torture-porn". In the movies I Am Legend and Cloverfield, we are destroying New York again and again, much like how Japan is always getting blown up by nuclear blasts in anime (seemingly strange for the only country attached with nuclear weapons).




In this, the Age of Terrorism, our fears have transmuted, and we have other things to bury deep down in the dark.