Why I love Jesse Ventura’s performance in Predator | Little White Lies

In Praise Of

Why I love Jesse Ventura’s per­for­mance in Predator

09 Nov 2017

Words by Victoria Luxford

Two soldiers, one in a cowboy hat and the other in camouflage, crouching with firearms in a lush, forested environment.
Two soldiers, one in a cowboy hat and the other in camouflage, crouching with firearms in a lush, forested environment.
The larg­er-than-life catch­phrase machine epit­o­mised the hyper-mas­culin­i­ty of 80s action cinema.

Released 30 years ago, John McTiernan’s action clas­sic has, over time, become one of the sig­na­ture films of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s career. Con­trary to many of the high-body-count, one-man-army extrav­a­gan­zas the direc­tor made in the lat­ter half of the 1980s, Preda­tor is an ensem­ble affair that turns its heroes into the hunt­ed. Among the film’s rag­tag crew of tough-talk­ing mer­ce­nar­ies, none is more mem­o­rable than Gun­ner Blain Coop­er, played by Jesse The Body’ Ven­tu­ra, the for­mer pro­fes­sion­al wrestler with a boom­ing voice and seem­ing­ly inex­haustible confidence.

Blain is delight­ful­ly obnox­ious from the get-go, declar­ing him­self a Sex­u­al Tyran­nosaurus” in his very first scene. It’s the key to his char­ac­ter – the bull­ish, unflap­pable killing machine who doesn’t have time to bleed” and can flat­ten an insur­gent base almost sin­gle hand­ed­ly. Where­as oth­ers use stan­dard issue artillery, Blain car­ries around Old Pain­less’, a com­plete­ly imprac­ti­cal mini-gun typ­i­cal­ly mount­ed on the side of a heli­copter. He’s the cav­al­ry you trust to come in and get the job done quick­ly. His brash, tobac­co-spit­ting pres­ence may not make him the ide­al house guest, but in the jun­gle he’s exact­ly the kind of indomitable char­ac­ter you’d want on your side.

Blain makes arguably the biggest impres­sion of any char­ac­ter, and yet is one of the first in Schwarzenegger’s team to be picked off by the Preda­tor. Flum­moxed by the beast’s cloak­ing device, Blain’s death is char­ac­ter­is­ti­cal­ly spec­tac­u­lar – a giant cau­terised hole is blown straight through his stom­ach as he attempts to avenge his fall­en com­rade Hawkins (Shane Black). While on the sur­face it feels like a cheap end, Blain’s demise marks a cru­cial turn­ing point in the film.

Three men, one holding what appears to be a large cooked animal, with others in the background in a green, lush setting.

If a man so assured and so pow­er­ful could be picked off so eas­i­ly by the Preda­tor, then every­one is vul­ner­a­ble – even Arnie. Added to this, Blain’s death makes the ensu­ing hunt per­son­al, and allows for a rare moment of sen­ti­ment from best friend Mac (Bill Duke). If you didn’t get at least a small lump in your throat dur­ing his Same kin­da moon, same kin­da jun­gle…” speech, you’re made of stern­er stuff than us.

The sto­ry of the mak­ing of Preda­tor is almost as renowned as the film itself, thanks in part to the doc­u­men­taries which accom­pa­nied the film’s DVD release in the ear­ly 2000s. The cast would com­pete to look the best on cam­era, wak­ing up ear­ly to squeeze in an extra work out. Ven­tu­ra was par­tic­u­lar­ly keen to prove his dom­i­nance, boast­ing about being the first to han­dle Old Pain­less’ and plac­ing bets with Schwarzeneg­ger to see whose arms were big­ger. Such off-cam­era antics are what cult heroes are made of, with the notion of an over­lap between actor and char­ac­ter mak­ing the per­for­mance that much more fascinating.

Blain is the kind of char­ac­ter who could only exist in an 80s action movie, and one who could only have been played by the type of out­landish star that exist­ed around the same time. While Ven­tu­ra has insist­ed that his expe­ri­ences as a Viet­nam vet­er­an informed the char­ac­ter, his pre­vi­ous pro­fes­sion as a wrestler also played a big part. The larg­er-than-life pres­ence that made him such a suc­cess in the WWE ring slots per­fect­ly into the over-the-top world of 80s action cin­e­ma, where any­one can suc­ceed with the right amount of brava­do. That same charis­ma would lat­er see Ven­tu­ra elect­ed Gov­er­nor of Min­neso­ta four years before Schwarzeneg­ger launched his own polit­i­cal career.

Preda­tor is also a per­fect time cap­sule of Amer­i­ca under Ronald Rea­gan, and no one epit­o­mis­es this more than Ven­tu­ra (although the 40th POTUS was more of a Ram­bo fan). This was the decade of Hulk Hogan, Mr T and Sylvester Stal­lone, whose dis­tinct brand of hyper-mas­culin­i­ty became ubiq­ui­tous on Amer­i­can cin­e­ma and TV screens. The MTV logo embla­zoned on Blain’s t‑shirt is anoth­er clear indi­ca­tor that this char­ac­ter was absolute­ly a prod­uct of his time. None of the Preda­tor sequels or Alien vs Preda­tor cross-overs man­aged to recap­ture the bril­liance of the orig­i­nal, and that’s part­ly because they for­got that the real star(s) of the show was not the hunter, but the hunted.

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