Today’s guest blogger is Doctor Wank. Be nice to him.

I figured what with all the “vs.” movies floating around (well, okay two) I’d start giving movie reviews that pit two movies against one another. Here goes.

So… Nikki and I went to see Breakfast at Tiffany’s at the Halifax cinema festival. The movie itself is… well, a little odd. For starters, there’s this “humourous” chinese guy played by a white actor in face paint who mugs an overbite, squints his eyes, and plonounces arr his r’s as l’s and vice-velsa. Ya, I know it was made in the 60’s or whatever, but it was still hard to watch without cringing.

Then the main character, Holly Golightly (love the name) is an escort who doesn’t put out and can only get happiness from hanging out at a jewellery store (this quality is supposed to be endearing, I think). Turns out she got married at 14, had four kids (or had to take care of them at any rate), ran away from her responsibilities to Hollywood, almost made it there but decided to run away to New York and catch herself a rich man. Ya, I have a lot of sympathy for this character.

Then there’s the George Peppard character (yes, the leader of the A-Team!), a gigolo who dreams of being a writer except he’s too busy pleasuring this carnivorous rich litch bitch for money. Hmm…

This is all portrayed in an innocent candy-apple way that just makes the actual events seem totally surreal. In the end it’s your typical romantic comedy formula, but with this whole different feel to it.

So anyway… we got these coupons at the BaT’s showing for a free DVD rental. Feeling like “well, it’s free, I should get something I wouldn’t normally get” I rented “The Predator”. Nikki hadn’t seen it, and I feel it is my duty to educate her in all the little cultural clichés/quotes we get from movies. This one is of course the source of <ah-nold>”Stick around”</a> and <Jesse the Body>”I ain’t got time to bleed”</J> as well as <J>”Fuck! Bunch of limp-wristed faggots around here! This stuff’ll turn you into a god-damned sexual Tyrannosaurus!”</J> (One of my faves!)

Well! If BaT’s was dated, this was almost worse, at least for the first half. There’s this whole goofy group of army guys, each of whom gets a single scene to define their “character”: there’s “tells goofy jokes” guy, and “the inscrutable navaho” and “all-business black guy”. Arnold really. can’t. act. at. all. I had forgotten.

Then there’s fucking Carl Weathers! Remember him? Eye-liner guy? No, not Billy Zane! The black one! Ya, him! Man, he’s a riot! He’s there solely for this whole “CIA screws over Arnold’s team” plot-line that goes exactly nowhere because pretty soon the Predator comes along and it’s all moot! I really can’t figure out what the writers were thinking on that one. Probably something along the lines of “Duuuude… yaaaa…”.

Oh, and then there’s the goofy soundtrack! Constant, constant “march” music with these little “dramatic” violin peaks. Weird.

But the second half saves it. Once the Predator starts laying into them and it’s just one-on-one between it and Arnold, then things get good. Ah, the IR-absorbing mud, the spike traps, the explosive arrowhead made from carved wood and a left-over mortar round! Good stuff. I remember thinking the Predator looked goofy when I first saw him way back when, but now I think he’s amazing! Eight feet tall and ugly as hell! I dunno, maybe I’m just grateful he isn’t a “forehead problem” alien from Star Trek.

So, between Predator and Holly Golightly, I’d say it’s a win for the Predator, but not a crushing victory. BaT’s wins for the first half, but Predator pulls ahead in the end.