Did you know that since the original Predator in 1987, Arnold Schwarzenegger has turned down every opportunity to return in a sequel? In the past, this has been due to scheduling conflicts or, you know, being California’s Governor. However, when asked to join the cast for The Predator 2018, it was nothing more than the script itself which made the Terminator respond with “I won’t be back”.
Yes, The Predator is bad – so bad that Mr Freeze himself turned it down – but even the incoherent script and behind scenes drama seem tame when compared to the problematic depiction of autism found throughout.
That’s why, when it came to picking another spooktacularly bad autism portrayal for this year’s Halloween post, I arrived at The Predator’s door – but even I wasn’t prepared for the shock of what I now consider to be the most ill-informed, backhanded compliment our community will ever receive. Let me explain.
What is The Predator (2018):
Trading in the lush, claustrophobic pressure of central America’s jungles for some town, The Predator 2018 is a stiff joint which charts three factions, as they hunt an escaped alien, only to find themselves the prey.
Pitched as a soft reboot on the now 30-year-old franchise, it’s clear that 2018’s The Predator was supposed to be about uniting old fans of the franchise with new audiences. However, straight out of the gate, the film becomes so preoccupied with making tongue-in-cheek references to predator films prior that it instantly feels too preoccupied with the past to try anything of substance.
That’s not to say The Predator 2018 doesn’t do anything right though, as there’s a great scene at the start, which demonstrates the threat level generated by a tech-less predator, whilst I also thought the new take on the predator’s motives (in which they hunt to evolve their species) was a neat addition.
These improvements come with a cost though, as the more we learn about the villain’s mythology the more interesting they become. On more than one occasion this meant I found myself rooting for the killer causing humanity’s extinction; a realisation which probably wasn’t helped by how boring the good guys were.
If you’ve ever seen any movie set at Halloween, you’ll already be well acquainted with the tropes I’m talking about here, as the film is packed full of one-note cannon fodder, all of who have no discernible traits other than the roles they hold, i.e. the scientist, the war veterans, the military suits and, oh boy, the autistic child.
How Autism is Portrayed in The Predator (2018):
Let’s be honest, no one was expecting The Predator to be ground-breaking when it came to its portrayal of neurodiversity, but I think deep down even the writers of The Predator knew this – as what else explains the mess that is Rory, an autistic school kid whose traits include:
- A photographic memory;
- A lack of social skills;
- Sensory processing disorders;
- Pretty much any other autistic trait previously put to cinema.
While an overly-autistic autist is nothing new within film, what’s fascinating here is that, between scenes, these symptoms seem to fade away.
This means that, what starts as a non-verbal tech whiz, soon stumbles into a slightly above-intelligent youth, resulting in a character who could once beat Rain Man in a game of poker becoming someone whose only ability is to get captured when the plot demands it.
Like a broken clock, this subsequently means there is a brief window where The Predator does a pretty bang-up job in its portrayal (and it takes place on Halloween night no less!) when Rory goes trick or treating using the predator’s mask as a costume.
While there are certainly flaws in this scene, what I find great about it is that even though Rory knows his costume is dangerous and that bullies are outside, he’s bound by the ritual of the night and, you can almost see the literal logic of thinking that Halloween is supposed to be scary, so why not bring this terrifying piece of alien tech?
The payoff here is that, when his plan backfires and the mask inadvertently starts shooting, Rory experiences the only bit of character growth the film has, as he looks up in a panic to see what has happened and realises that the other kids are just as scared as he is. At this moment, Rory humorously threatens those who once threatened him and you can tell he now realises that, whether it’s his control of a situation or his social standing, nothing is set – and that’s not good or bad. That’s life.
But this is The Predator 2018 we’re talking about, so don’t expect this positive depiction to last long as, shortly after this, Rory is partnered up with a squad of mentally scarred war veterans who are nicknamed ‘the loonies’ (and that’s all you need to know about how sensitively the topic of mental health and neurology is tackled from there on out.
When The Predator Becomes Propaganda (SPOILERS)
So, remember when it turned out that The Predators hadn’t been hunting for sport but to evolve their species. Well, in the final act of this strange, strange film, it’s revealed that the prized DNA the predator is chasing isn’t the ex-military sniper, but his autistic son.
This is alluded to in an early line in which a scientist states that ‘autism is the next stage of evolution’. Yet, within the context of this film, it makes zero sense; as all the autistic child does is partly learn an alien language, and accidentally murder the resident pothead (who was living at house 420 – I see what you did there).
Of course, I am flattered that the writers were thinking of our little ol’ community when they considered what gene would make an intergalactic soldier even stronger. However, even this feels cheap when you know that the kind of autism they had in mind isn’t representative of actual autism and, furthermore, seems to cause more trouble than good in the film.
I shouldn’t complain though as, after all, the treatment autism receives here is far better than anything the other ‘loonies’ get. Yet, it just goes to show that a good representation of autism isn’t about portraying autism as good, it’s about reflecting identity and the traits that make us, us.
In truth, that’s a lot to expect from a series that once contained the line ‘This stuff will make you a god damned sexual Tyrannosaurus.’ But if the hunt has evolved (as the movie’s tagline states) then surely the standard for autistic representation can too?
Carry on the Conversation:
What will you be watching this Halloween? Let me know in the comments below. And, if you would like to hear about more spine-chilling depictions of the spectrum then check out last year’s post: The MOST Shocking Depiction of Autism – Dark Floors Review.
As always, I can also be found on Twitter @AutismRevised, on Instagram @autisticandunapologetic and via my email: AutisticandUnapologetic@gmail.com.
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Thank you for reading and I will see you next week for more thoughts from across the spectrum.
