Predator (1987)

Starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, Carl Weathers, Elpidia Carrillo, Bill Duke, Jesse Ventura, Sonny Landham, Richard Chaves, R.G. Armstrong, Shane Black, Kevin Peter Hall

Directed by John McTiernan

Expectations: High. One of my all-time favorites.


OK, I’ve dicked around with enough questionable Arnold films such as Jingle All the Way, Hercules in New York and Batman and Robin. It’s time for the big guns; it’s time for Predator, baby!

I have an interesting history with Predator. I grew up in a family that scraped by any way they could, and in a house of movie lovers, that meant recording as many movies as possible off of TV. I grew up watching Predator in its edited TV form thanks to a broadcast one night on FOX, so after seeing that version 50+ times, the legitimate theatrical version will forever seem like some sort of extended, unrated cut to me. For whatever reason, even though I’ve seen the real version a number of times now, the “new” scenes never make enough of an impact on me to override my memories and therefore they always feel fresh.

Predator kicks off in style with a cool space intro scene (half of which was missing from my original copy), followed by an equally cool scene of Schwarzenegger and his team arriving at a remote HQ by helicopter. There’s no dialogue, instead we hear the thunderous and incredible score from Alan Silvestri. This is absolutely one of my top film scores of all time, and it’s never far from my mind. Every time I hear it, I get pumped to arm wrestle my buddy standing up, to shoot indiscriminately with a mini-gun into the dense jungle, to call an alien an ugly motherfucker. The score’s main theme, which kicks off the film, manages to simultaneously evoke the military team aspect of Arnold and his men, the jungle setting, and the alien predator hunting them down for sport. While I’m tempted to say something about wishing that Silvestri was still delivering scores on this level, after something as amazing as this and Back to the Future, I think he’s given enough. Silvestri has many other strong scores from this period (I’m especially partial to the fun steel drums of the Summer Rental score), but for me Predator and Back to the Future are the pinnacles of his career, elevating their movies infinitely higher than would otherwise be possible.

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Uncle Jasper reviews: Bucktown (1975)

Starring Fred Williamson, Pam Grier, Thalmus Rasulala, Tony King, Bernie Hamilton, Art Lund, Tierre Turner, Carl Weathers

Directed By Arthur Marks


On paper Bucktown seems like a blaxploitation fan’s dream come true. Fred Williamson, Pam Grier and seasoned genre filmmaker Arthur Marks on all accounts should make for a potent combination. Maybe I expected too much from that stockpile of talent, because unfortunately the film ends up being merely adequate in large part due to the silly ass plot that would be feasible in maybe the Holy Crusades or Feudal Japan, but not so much in 1970s Missouri.

The action begins when Duke (Fred Williamson) steps off a train in Bucktown, Missouri to claim his recently deceased brother’s estate, which includes his flashy red-light district nightclub. Told that he must stay in town 60 days before the estate can be properly turned over, Duke decides to wait and tend to the business before selling it. All is not well in Bucktown however, as Duke soon finds out. The entire municipality is being strong-armed by a gang of corrupt police officers who extort cash from local businesses, solicit prostitutes, and participate in illegal gambling rings. Not to mention that they are racist as fuck. Seriously, even by typical genre standards these guys hurl out the most hateful, redneck slurs this side of the battle of Gettysburg.

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Uncle Jasper reviews: Friday Foster (1975)

Allow me to introduce my buddy, Uncle Jasper. He’s gonna chime in from time to time with a review, so give him a big welcome. First up, Friday Foster with Pam Grier!


Starring Pam Grier, Yaphet Kotto, Carl Weathers, Scatman Crothers, Eartha Kitt and Godfrey Cambridge

Directed By Arthur Marks


I admit it, by the end of this movie I had no fucking clue what was going on… Some convoluted plot about a bunch of white dudes in afro wigs conspiring to take out all of the nation’s black leaders. But my God, if the merit of a film lies in its ability to entertain, then this is a masterpiece in the same league as Dolemite and Fantasy Mission Force.

Look, all you need to know is that Pam Grier has never looked better and Yaphet Kotto has never been more charming. I swear to God, every time he flashed that goofy-ass gap-toothed grin of his I kept thinking how much he resembled a black Ernest Borgnine. He and Pam make an awesome duo and I would have loved to see them share the screen more often. Scatman Crothers is somewhere in there as a pervy priest, and the black dude from The Love Boat is great as the neighborhood pimp (“You have to admit… my shit is HEAVY!!” he tells Pam). Somewhere in the middle you have Eartha Kitt as an over the top fashion designer and Carl Weathers backing a delivery truck into some effeminate dude in a phone booth, crushing him to death. Whew! What a cast they rounded up for this one! It plays like the Grand Hotel of 1970s black cinema.

This film would be one of Pam’s last for American International. It is nowhere near as raw as Coffy and lacks the urgency of Foxy Brown, but it would be silly to even compare them. The point of this movie isn’t to provoke outrage, it’s a party movie that just wants us all to look good and have fun. I’m not saying that Friday Foster is the superior film, but Pam does have a little more breathing room here and it’s nice to see her in the arms of a suave millionaire for a change instead of being hog-tied and raped by some drunken hillbilly.

This movie has enough car chases, rooftop fights, machine guns and titties to overcome any shortcoming it may have in terms of plot. In fact, this film stares plot straight in the face and laughs at it. Anybody willing enough to not take it too seriously will be greatly rewarded.

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