ElMaruecan82

No one has put it better than Roger Ebert: "Predator" is essentially a crossover of "Aliens" and "Rambo." While this comparison was a point of criticism for some, like Gene Siskel, it also highlights how the film blends genres in intriguing ways, subverting expectations and delivering something unique.

I first encountered "Predator" when I was 11. At the sight of a skinned, charred corpse and the disappearance of the comic relief character (Shane Black as Hawkins), whose glasses were ominously left behind, I realized this was not your typical action movie-though, let's face it, you could see his death coming from a mile away. Feeling unsettled, I wisely chose to stop watching and went to bed. At that age, I was used to big, action-packed films, but even then, I sensed the underlying horror that would haunt my nights. Revisiting the film decades later, I'm glad I avoided it back then. The horror is more suggested than shown (except for the climactic reveal of the Predator), but it's still unnervingly effective. The Predator itself, with its grotesque design reminiscent of John Carpenter's "The Thing," feels like both a reward and a punishment for sticking it out.

At its core, "Predator" is a "Commando" mission gone wrong. The opening scenes introduce a team of macho, muscular soldiers epitomizing American military badassery, free from the psychological scars of "Rambo." The iconic chopper ride set to Little Richard's "Long Tall Sally" feels like an over-the-top ode to the American action hero. Each team member is a walking stereotype: Arnold Schwarzenegger's Dutch, the cigar-chomping leader with the unshaven stubble; Carl Weathers' Dillon, the bureaucrat with a hidden agenda; Jesse Ventura's Blain, the cool dude spitting tobacco; Bill Duke's Mac, the stoic yet emotional soldier; and Sonny Landham's Billy, the silent tracker. Even within this caricature, McTiernan knows what he's doing-playing up these tropes just enough to pull the rug out from under us later.

The mission kicks off with an assault on a rebel camp, where flamethrowers blaze, bodies explode, and bullets rain like a Fourth of July fireworks show. It's pure action cheese-almost parody-complete with action-hero one-liners and mayhem so excessive you almost expect the Wilhelm scream to make an appearance. But then the tone shifts, and the story gets darker. Mysterious deaths start piling up, and we get glimpses of an invisible predator stalking the team. The squad, once cocky and invincible, devolves into terrified prey. Bill Duke's Mac stands out as he unravels, driven by grief and vengeance for his friend. Carl Weathers' Dillon also gets a compelling arc, playing against type as a morally ambiguous character who redeems himself in the end.

Schwarzenegger's Dutch transforms too. Stripped of his team, his guns, and his bravado, he turns to raw survival instincts, relying on brains and grit rather than brute force. That shift, along with the hauntingly beautiful jungle setting (shot to rival the aesthetic of "The Mission"), elevates "Predator" beyond your standard action flick. It's not just bullets and biceps-there's a real sense of tension and fear.

The film doesn't delve much into philosophy either, as it goes as far as ending with a mano a mano fight between Dutch and the Predator. Sure, Dutch could've just blown it up, but that would break the genre's rules. Maybe by then, he had earned the Predator's respect-or maybe the filmmakers just knew that audiences would eat up a good old-fashioned one-on-one showdown. Either way, it's a visceral and satisfying finale.

The Predator (played by Kevin Peter Hall) is a standout villain. The decision to reveal its full appearance in the climax pays off, but even before that, its yellow blood and cloaking ability were enough to make it terrifying. The opening shot of the alien spacecraft, on the other hand, feels unnecessary-we didn't need it to grasp the creature's otherworldly menace. What makes the Predator so compelling is how it flips the script, turning the ultimate hunters into hunted prey, reducing them to their most primal instincts.

The inclusion of Anna (Elpidia Carrillo), the only civilian, adds an interesting dynamic. She's not just there for decoration-she becomes a critical link to the Predator's rules of engagement, serving as a reminder of the mission's human stakes. When Dutch bellows, "Get to the chopper!" in his thick Austrian accent, it's not just an order; it's a desperate plea for survival.

Ultimately, "Predator" is both a love letter and a farewell to the classic 1980s action hero. McTiernan would go on to reinvent the genre with "Die Hard," featuring Bruce Willis as the everyman hero, reluctant to embrace his role. But here, we get one last hurrah for the larger-than-life macho man, stripped of his invincibility and reduced to raw humanity. It's the perfect mix of action, horror, and survival-an unapologetic thrill ride that's earned its place as a genre classic.

Season 2 of The Simpsons kicks off what is arguably my favorite chapter of the series. While many consider the show's "golden age" to begin a season or two later, I find the leap in animation quality-and even writing-between the first and second seasons to be the most striking. This particular episode centers on Bart Simpson, the mischievous icon of American entertainment at the time. From Do the Bartman to his pervasive pranks, Bart had already cemented his place as the show's poster child. Critics, however, were quick to label him a bad influence on children.

This episode shifts the focus to Bart's struggles in school, exploring his difficulty in concentrating and putting effort into his education. The plot revolves around a history test that could determine whether Bart advances to the next grade or repeats the year-a classic "make or break" scenario. While there are plenty of comedic moments (including one-liners from Homer and a clever parallel between his inability to follow Dr. Loren Pryor's advice and Bart's inability to focus on Mrs. Krabappel's lectures), the episode balances humor with genuine emotional depth.

Bart's journey begins in his typical fashion-winging it. After Martin Prince delivers an impressive review of Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea, Bart improvises a disastrous summary of Treasure Island, embodying his carefree attitude toward school. When his usual tricks-faking illness and trying to crib answers from Milhouse-fail, Bart is forced to confront his academic shortcomings. In a surprising twist, Martin agrees to tutor him, adding layers to his character as an isolated, gifted child. But when Martin abandons him mid-process, Bart is left to face his challenges alone.

Desperate, Bart even turns to God, praying for a miracle. In a heartwarming and clever turn, Springfield is blanketed in snow, buying Bart one more day to study. The parody elements here, including a nod to The Grinch and the over-the-top joy of a snow day, are hilarious yet subtle. Bart's determination to finally buckle down and work, even slapping himself into focus, is both relatable and inspiring.

The climax is one of the most poignant moments in Simpsons history. Bart gives the test his all, genuinely trying to do his best, only to receive an F once again. His breakdown is deeply moving-this is the same Bart Simpson who made kids laugh and adults groan, now bringing viewers to tears. The scene where Mrs. Krabappel comforts him with a gentle "There, there" adds another layer of depth, showing her as a teacher who truly cares about her students.

The resolution is masterfully done. Rather than focusing on grades alone, it emphasizes that education is about truly understanding and applying knowledge, not just memorizing facts. This message manages to reconcile critics of the show, proving that The Simpsons can set a positive example while retaining their signature humor and heart.

This episode doesn't deserve an F. In fact, there's no grade high enough to match its impact. Season 2 is filled with warmth, depth, and laughs, but this installment stands out as a masterpiece that redefines Bart's character and The Simpsons as a whole.

Having had the opportunity to watch "Chaos" by Coline Serreau, I share the viewpoint that despite the commendable acting and the director's laudable intentions, the film ironically suffers from its chaotic narrative structure. The film attempts to tackle four dramatic themes that could each independently sustain a compelling narrative: the decay of bourgeois couple relationships, the breakdown of family ties within the same social class, the tragedies of young Maghrebi women forced into marriage, and a crescendo into the oppression of women universally, across all ages and backgrounds.

However, the execution falls short as these themes are delivered in a jarringly mixed tone-shifting between comedy, drama, and even action thriller elements, ending in a tone of pseudo-humanistic denunciation. The mishmash of genres and tones results in a convoluted film, where potentially powerful ideas clash rather than coalesce into a cohesive narrative.

One particularly troubling scene involves a young girl being inspected like livestock to underscore the idea that Eastern women are enslaved and owned by men, a depiction that dangerously skews towards caricature rather than a nuanced portrayal of reality. Such a portrayal not only disrupts the narrative but also misrepresents complex cultural issues, risking credibility for the sake of provocation.

In summary, "Chaos" is a film that cannot be ignored but is plagued by a bewildering script and an overly audacious controversy that is too extreme to be taken seriously. The film's sole focus seems to be a systematic denunciation of the male gender, presented in a resolutely feminist critique that almost borders on manicheism. This film is a clear example of how a narrative can become lost when it tries to juggle too many themes without a solid structural foundation.

Having had the opportunity to watch "Chaos" by Coline Serreau, I share the viewpoint that despite the commendable acting and the director's laudable intentions, the film ironically suffers from its chaotic narrative structure. The film attempts to tackle four dramatic themes that could each independently sustain a compelling narrative: the decay of bourgeois couple relationships, the breakdown of family ties within the same social class, the tragedies of young Maghrebi women forced into marriage, and a crescendo into the oppression of women universally, across all ages and backgrounds.

However, the execution falls short as these themes are delivered in a jarringly mixed tone-shifting between comedy, drama, and even action thriller elements, ending in a tone of pseudo-humanistic denunciation. The mishmash of genres and tones results in a convoluted film, where potentially powerful ideas clash rather than coalesce into a cohesive narrative.

One particularly troubling scene involves a young girl being inspected like livestock to underscore the idea that Eastern women are enslaved and owned by men, a depiction that dangerously skews towards caricature rather than a nuanced portrayal of reality. Such a portrayal not only disrupts the narrative but also misrepresents complex cultural issues, risking credibility for the sake of provocation.

In summary, "Chaos" is a film that cannot be ignored but is plagued by a bewildering script and an overly audacious controversy that is too extreme to be taken seriously. The film's sole focus seems to be a systematic denunciation of the male gender, presented in a resolutely feminist critique that almost borders on manicheism. This film is a clear example of how a narrative can become lost when it tries to juggle too many themes without a solid structural foundation.