As of publication, Shane Black and Fred Dekker's The Predator opened with just $24 million over its debut weekend. That’s below the $25m-$30m tracking predictions and below even the unadjusted $24.7m debut weekend of Predators back in 2010. It did earn $31m overseas in 71 markets, so it’s always possible that foreign box office will allow the film to save some face. With an $88m budget (more than double the $35m-$40m production spends on Predators, Alien Vs. Predator: Requiem and Predator 2 back in 1990), and $24m debut weekend for a series that has averaged a 2.1x weekend-to-final multiplier, Fox’s attempt to revive the franchise is a domestic dud. So, what went wrong? Without further ado, here are the six reasons why The Predator stumbled at the domestic box office this past weekend.
The reviews were lousy.
Even with geek favorite Shane Black directing and cult geek icon Fred Dekker (who directed The Monster Squad back in the day) penning the screenplay, the final product didn’t win over the critics. Now, generally speaking, a Predator movie wouldn’t be expected to earn rave reviews. But today’s critical establishment is made up of many of the geek-friendly folks who grew up with the franchise. As such, when folks who loved Predator, tend to defend Predator 2 and adore Shane Black’s Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang and The Nice Guys tells potential consumers that the movie isn’t very good, that stings more than it might have in 1990. No matter the reason for the disappointing final product (it’s no secret that the film was heavily reshot and recut), the word on the street was that this Predator lacked bite.
That sex offender controversy didn’t help one bit.
No, I don’t think that the outcry over Shane Black casting a registered sex offender in a scene alongside Olivia Munn, the film’s only prominent female character, without telling her, was a fatal blow. But the controversy played out on a daily basis as we all debated the morality and discussed whether or not Munn’s cast members had been appropriately supportive in the aftermath. Sure, it stunk that Munn essentially sold the movie by herself after some cast members canceled their press commitments. However, that also meant that the story, by default, absolutely dominated the media narrative right before it opened. When your two main media narratives are “the movie isn’t very good” and “So, the director cast his buddy who turned out to be a convicted online sexual predator,” that’s not a good thing.
The Predator brought nothing new to the table.
The Predator played out like a greatest hits compilation of prior Predator movies. It concerns a bunch of soldier-type macho warriors (Predator) doing battle with multiple creatures (Predators) in the jungle (Predator), in the suburbs (Alien Versus Predator: Requiem) and in a spaceship (Predator 2). It even featured Jake Busey as the son of his father’s Predator 2 character. There was no new hook this time out beyond the idea that Fox made another Predator movie. When those reviews rolled in, consumers had the option of paying movie theater prices to see The Predator or staying home and watching one of the five prior Predator movies for $5 on their preferred VOD service. This is the danger in Hollywood’s IP recycling. If the new one doesn’t measure up, the superior predecessors are available at the touch of a button.
They broke the cardinal rule of franchise filmmaking.
The Predator ends on a blatant sequel hook, one that promises a next installment that A) does something different with the series and B) would probably be more interesting than this movie. Once again, as we’ve seen with Independence Day: Resurgence, Pacific Rim: Uprising, Justice League and any number of origin story “first installments,” (Fantastic Four, Jem and the Holograms, King Arthur and the Legend of the Sword), this “new” Predator movie makes us sit through a paint-by-numbers rehash of the prior film(s) in order to set up a more interesting or creative sequel. Please, unless you’re Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom and you know you’re getting a threequel, stop doing this. If you want to hook audiences, don’t make us sit through the origin story or the “safe” revamp. Give us the cool sequel the first time out.
The Predator is not a movie star.
We forget that the original Predator was sold not as a monster movie but rather as a flick where Arnold Schwarzenegger, Carl Weathers and Jesse Ventura (among others) get their butts kicked by an invisible alien who proceeds to pick off the rough-and-tumble soldiers like cattle. The key sell was that there was something in the jungle that was so big and scary that it turned Arnold Schwarzenegger into an underdog. Predator was a Schwarzenegger actioner first and a Predator movie second. Ditto the initial Alien sequels, which was just as much about watching Sigourney Weaver kick sci-fi ass as it was about the infamous face-hugger monsters. All due respect, but Boyd Holbrook, Trevante Rhodes, Jacob Tremblay, Keegan-Michael Key, Olivia Munn, Sterling K. Brown are not “butts in the seats” movie stars. And neither is its title character.
Nobody wanted a new Predator movie.
Having an IP is worthless if it’s not an IP that audiences want to see again, or at the very least if it’s not an IP that you can do something new with. Fox took the dormant Predator IP and made another Predator movie, with nothing to offer for folks who had no interest in a new Predator movie. Tricked by the online chorus which often oversells the popularity of once-popular brands (see also: Zoolander, No. 2), they spent A-level money on a B-movie franchise. With lousy reviews (it wasn’t Mad Max: Fury Road), no star power (it wasn’t Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle) and no new hook (it was no Jurassic World), Fox discovered that domestic audiences craved a new Predator movie as much as they craved a new Alien movie or a new Terminator sequel.
