Pace Yourself

Lanté came bearing gifts. Thank you, Lanté.

Previous we’ve had some discussions about movies. Rather obviously our tastes in movies differ, like any two people, but Friday he brought me one of his favorites. Arnold Schwarzenegger in Predator. In an attempt to prove a point, I assume. 

Now I’m not going to hide behind my distaste for movies with any hint of testosterone jacked rogue military special “op” teams hell bent on killing non-American’s, or Arnold’s acting, for that matter. But both his acting and the movie, “on the whole,” weren’t too bad. I was very surprised.

Sure this film, like any, has it’s flaws. Big one’s too. But on other levels it’s quite a successful endeavor. With respect to the state of movies today, especially…

If you look past the sad delusions of the film, moronic “Americanism” or a seemingly harsh and unnecessary treatment of animals being most prevalent, it has been built upon really strong story telling elements. Pace being the most important. It was 45 odd minutes before you even got a hint as to what you might be dealing with. That being the Predator’s very first psedo-appearance.

Film’s today strive to keep the audience constantly entertained. At a cost, I’m happy to point out, detrimental to many films released today. I’m sorry but any movie unwilling to take a break from itself is hardly worth watching. It’s those lows that make the highs ever so memorable. And sometimes it is those lows that are so essential to the art of story telling, or are what is so memorable.

For instance during a break in all the absurdly gratuitous shows of power (a.k.a. killing “brown people,” or the jungle) a soldier, who you witness earlier in the film, casually running a razor over his face during his “down times.” I assume, from such a clean shaven appearance, he does that quite regularly. But the point of his ritual becomes apparent, when in the midst of being hunted by the Predator while taking a breather, he begins to “shave” again. But this time he digs the razor into his cheek, signifying his frustration and stress toward his situation.

But ever more important is I’ve always remembered that particular scene. Even more than the movie it was in. I figured it was from a serious war movie! Like Full Metal Jacket. You could of knocked me clean over. Watching that scene just about did. I couldn’t believe it. I remembered such a powerfully poetic moment from a movie I had wrote off as an hour and a half I killed twenty years ago, never expecting to revisit again. So absolutely bizarre.

Thanks again, Lanté. Point taken…