⭐️⭐️1/2
Did you ever wonder what would have happened if those laidback jocks you knew in high school did some cocaine and decided to make Predator fan fiction? I know the thought has kept me up many a restless night. Well, wonder no more because the man who blessed the world with Sledgehammer and gave his brother Ted Prior a spotlight decided this question needed to be answered. Bio-hazardous material is launched into outer space via rocket for disposal but instead crashes (why the fuck would you name it Icarus?!?) in the middle of the Georgia wilderness because that’s your tax dollars at work. A team of soldiers is sent to recover it but the team leader gets infected and then blows away his whole team (I’m assuming he was just following orders). Jason Trotter (Mr. Prior, if you’re nasty) manages to survive along with another young soldier and they head off into the woods. The infected man begins tracking them but Trotter (the other guy is gunned down) is able to find shelter thanks to stumbling across the home of some forest-dwelling siblings. Now, he not only has to battle his rapidly mutating former buddy but has to combat the recovery team sent in to clean up everything by any means necessary. Somehow, Powers Booth is there as the suit behind the mission who is definitely up to no good, Leo Rossi is the soldier who transforms into the creature and Wilford Brimley rocks a shirt that looks like a clown threw up on it right after a unicorn wiped its ass with it. Listen. When I sat down and decided to watch a low-budget Predator rip-off, I knew exactly what I was getting into. It takes itself seriously, which makes it way easier to ingest than something that’s too busy winking at the audience to give a damn about monsters and soldiers. It’s kids re-enacting their favorite movie in the woods but this time they had grown up, made some money and put together a group of people that actually gave a damn. So it’s lame but it’s the kind of lame I was expecting and I won’t hold that against it. The silly and bulky beast is kept off camera for way too much time. Stolen (or damn-near stolen) music from its inspiration is the only thing that comes close to mirroring that Schwarzenegger classic, that’ll happen when you blow your funds on the diabetes guy. Powers Booth is, as usual, worth every penny.
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