This was a little mini-project for my English II class back in my sophomore year. I thought it was pretty cool to post up since I put much work in it (and it paid through, too), and I don’t want to keep it in my computer since it’ll be forgotten in a couple of years. Plus, it takes up unwanted space. But I wanna keep it, y’know? Don’t want to throw it all to waste, and keep the memories. So, yeah….
23 later, and a faithful Predator sequel has finally arrived. It just begs the question: What took so damn long? Oh, right, the budget would’ve been too large. Well, that’s okay. James Cameron waited 10 years for technology to arrive before he began to film Avatar, and look what churned out. But the Predator film franchise has been through hell. 20th Century Fox ditched an Alien 5 that could’ve been made with James Cameron and Ridley Scott and instead went with a PG-13 Alien vs. Predator, which many saw as the simultaneous death of two classic film franchises. (I think it’s kind of underrated, though.) But, wait! They thought they could’ve gained the fans’ trust again by making an R-rated sequel… released on Christmas Day of 2007. Sadly, the film was even worse than its predecessor. Everything about that movie was bad, even the bloody violence ’cause you couldn’t see shit! And now they’ve re-approached Robert Rodriguez to update his Predators script and produce the movie. The result was an entertaining, slick sequel that should have been written by Michael Finch and Alex Litvak and directed Nimród Antal.
The film starts out with an opening shot of Adrian Brody’s character (his name isn’t mentioned at until the end of the movie, but I don’t think it makes a difference) free falling from the sky and landing on the Predator home world, which is nothing like that futuristic pile of shit seen in AvP-R. No, this is in the deep jungles reminiscent of the original movie. Seven other people are found, knowing nothing of where the hell they are, and that’s how the movie’s simple, yet engaging, plot plays out. Now, I’m not gonna lie, about the first 20 minutes of the film, I was thinkin’, “Come on! Where are the Predators?! Where’s all the action?” Maybe nostalgia took the best of me, because I wanted to see some real action similar to the first movie. But then I began to remember that the first movie also built up its suspense and didn’t ave any real action till the final moments. So fair enough, guys. You’re lightly basing this off of Predator without making it look like a rip-off ’cause I found it quite original. It felt like a logical progression from the first film and doesn’t even acknowledge Predator 2 or any of the AvP films, which doesn’t matter anyway. However, it does give a subtle quip to one of AvP‘s quotes; be on the lookout for that one. Laurence Fishburne doesn’t appear till, like, the midpoint, and his character has been stuck on this planet for 10 seasons, succinctly observing the Predators’ motives and moves, finding out that there are actually two types of Predator species: the one seen in the original film was one type and the trio that are attacking the humans are another (he compares it to wolves and dogs). They’re stronger and more menacing than the last three films that featured Predators (maybe not as strong as the Predalien, but, then again, that thing was fake-looking and beyond exagerrated).
From there on, the movie flows from one scene to the next with victims hunted off one by one, and by the end, a cool twist is revealed. My only complaint was that the movie felt kind of long. I don’t know why, but I wanted it to get to the end already. That probably won’t bother, though, since the ending is pretty satisfying. The acting performances are believable and great. A standout is Walton Goggins’ character, who adds clever humor to the suspense. Fishburne’s acting, however, is a bit cheesy, but it’s hilarious (in a good way)! John Debney’s score, which has a spice or two of Alan Silverstri’s original score here and there, compliments the film; the special effects are nice ($45 million well spent!); Gyula Pados’ cinematography isn’t like that shaky-cam, can’t-see-a-thing stuff; and the look of the Predators are awesome, so props go to the make-up artists and designers.
Overall, I give the film a 7/10. Nimród Antal and Robert Rodriguez gives justice to the Predator franchise with its blending of suspense and sharp action with characters we root for, and it was about time! Makes me wonder that Jim and John Thomas should’ve wrote something like this for Predator 2. When the film is released on DVD/Blu-ray, I shall re-watch and come back and update this review, as I include multiple viewings as part of my grading rubric. I don’t suspect it will grow on me, but you never know. Till then, I recommend watching this while you still can.
All right, let’s rewind time, so that we can talk about those better times, specifically what many would arguably call hip-hop music’s best decade. You know what I’m sayin’, don’t you? After all, it was when it all kick-started. Now, before I present my list, let me first say these are the defining albums of the ‘80s. I didn’t put up greatest or best because I don’t differentiate between that and favorite. What you consider the greatest/ best is your favorite, because how can you call something the best if you don’t like it as much as something you’d be jammin’ to all day? Therefore, I came up with defining: something decisively important, something that changed the course of hip-hop music or pushed its boundaries, something that impacted all others that later followed. And, boy, did the ’80 see a lot of that, so it was pretty tough compiling this list. If you don’t see this album or that album on the list, then… Well, that sucks, ‘cause you can’t satisfy everyone. But enough of that. Let’s get on with it!
5) Criminal Minded (1987) by Boogie Down Productions
This one is a no-brainer. Would any “greatest hip-hop albums” list be complete without this one? Not a chance. Boogie Down Productions crafted something special here. Even though they would later mature with By All Means Necessary, this album contains the rawness of early East Coast hardcore gangta rap, which can immediately be seen from the onset of the cover of KRS-One and DJ Scott La Rock holding guns, the first of its kind. The meat of the album, however, are DJ Scott La Rock’s and an uncredited Ced Gee’s beats that screamed for KRS-One’s braggadocio and inner city life rhymes to resoundingly compliment it, and it sure did. From the first track of “Poetry,” in which KRS-One booms with the skills of a true poet, to “South Bronx” and “The Bridge is Over Here,” where he disses MC Shan, Marley Marl, and the Juice Crew, Boogie Down Productions does not back down. The sampling of AC/DC’s “Back in Black” on “Dope Beat” is simply amazing, something I’d be bumping to, whereas “9mm Goes Bang” constructs an illustrious narrative of drug-busing prostitutes. By the time the last track plays out, with the knowledge reigning supreme over nearly everyone, nobody complained. It was criminal minded, indeed. On a side note, it was unfortunate that DJ Scott La Rock died a few months after the release of this classic. I guess we will never know what could’ve gone down with Boogie Down Productions if he lived.
4) Raising Hell (1986) by Run-D.M.C.
Linkin Park, Limp Bizkit, Ice-T’s Body Count band, the whole Judgment Night soundtack. They would all be nothing without this album. What Run-D.M.C. did with their self-titled debut and King of Rock, they refined that sound and took it to another level with this one. The rap-rock fusion was entirely realized, thanks to Rick Rubin and Russell Simmons, but Run-D.M.C.’s lyricism was equally engaging. While “Walk This Way” may be the apex of the record, the rest of the songs are nothing short of innovative. No filler here, guys. When that “Take Me to Mardi Gras”-sampling “Peter Piper” kicks in, it’s hard to not continue listening. And who can forget “My Adidas” that led to the group’s permeation in fashion at the time? All hip-hop artists owe their careers to this album because this is the album that broke hip-hop music into the mainstream. And it’s a good thing it’s still raising hell today!
3) Straight Outta Compton (1988) by N.W.A
From the success of the East Coast rose the West Coast, and nothing embodied it more than N.W.A’s debut album. It might’ve not been the first to describe the harsh realities of a “gangsta” (that title goes to Ice-T), but it doesn’t stop it from being any less exceptional. Ice Cube’s lyrics, Dr. Dre’s production, DJ Yella’s turntablism, and MC Ren’s, Eazy-E’s, and the former’s delivery all converged into a cohesive block of art, nothing more, nothing less. The D.O.C. and Arabian Prince make appearances as well, and they manage to be on par with the group, maybe because they’re sort of extensions of the group, but they give it their all nevertheless. “Straight Outta Compton” and “Fuck tha Police” (up there with Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind” as among the greatest protest songs of all time) are the highlights, with the latter even evoking a response from the Los Angeles Police Department, but the album as a whole is not only controversial but groundbreaking in nature. The gangsta lifestyle they portray is gritty and violent, the profanity adds an essential punch to each song, and the uncompromisingness is fresh and original. It’s no wonder that with the release of this record that the hip-hop music scene shifted to the West Coast. It’s too bad the general public mostly associate hip-hop music with gangsters and money, hoes, and guns nowadays, which is further reinforced by popular wack rappers.
2) It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (1988) by Public Enemy
I know, I know. Many are gonna argue that this film is the defining hip-hop album of the 1980s, maybe even of all time. It was the highest-placed hip-hop album on Rolling Stone’s greatest 500 albums of all time, and it’s still consistently ranked one of the best after over twenty years of the genre’s fledging history. And there’s good reason. When the first single, “Bring the Noise,” was first released in 1987, nothing could prepare the world for what Public Enemy would unleash. At the time, their debut album, Yo! Bum Rush the Show was Def Jam’s worst-selling album. Rick Rubin, however, still saw something special about them, and I think the whole hip-hop community should thank him for that. Not only did he produce some of hip-hop’s earliest classics (LL Cool J’s Radio and the Beastie Boys’ Licensed to Ill), he had an eye for talent, and Public Enemy is the epitome of that. Their sophomore album particularly emphasizes that. Here, the Bomb Squad developed their signature dense sampling, borrowing from up to twenty records on a single song, a far cry from the one to four they sampled for their previous album. The group would later evolve that sampling technique to its height on Fear of a Black Planet, but this album saw its very essence to the core. “Rebel Without a Pause” couldn’t be better of an example. Chuck D’s lyrics are unyielding; he doesn’t give a shit about what he raps about, made all the more effective by his demanding voice. He pays homage to early rappers, advocates Nation of Islam leader Louis Farrakhan, and defends hip-hop as not just a fad all in complex rhyme schemes that demonstrates his lyrical bravado, and astonishing to say, that’s just on “Bring the Noise.” I’ve never really been a fan of Flavor Flav, but his hyping and humorous interjections don’t deteriorate the record in any way. Furthermore, the album gave birth to political and social hip-hop, specifically the one that unabashedly criticized the American government and tackled racism. Safe to say, its impact still resonates today with artists such as Dead Prez, Immortal Technique, and Mos Def carrying the torch.
1) Paid in Full (1987) by Eric B. & Rakim
Hahaha! I hope this wasn’t much of surprise. It was the golden age of hip-hop, and Eric B. & Rakim defined it with this seminal album that, I believe, nobody could argue. What’s even more amazing is that the duo didn’t even “try,” if that’s the correct word. As Eric B. said, they were “just doing records that felt good,” completed in a mere week. They didn’t set out to make one of the best hip-hop albums of all time, but they sure as hell did. The only thing I feel that’s near impressive as that is the two days Jay-Z spent writing the lyrics to The Blueprint. Rakim’s lyrical dexterity is remarkably impressive from the moment “I Ain’t No Joke” starts, and it flows throughout the album. Speaking of flow, the God MC, which he’s universally known as (and who’s to argue?), is the master of flow. He’s the one that started it all, the one that established that flow is just as important as lyrical content. Beforehand, everybody’s rhymes were basic and simplistic, often rhyming as the end of a bar. Then, Rakim came along and brought the internal rhyme where a rhyme could occur in a single line: “So what if I’m a microphone fiend addicted soon as I sing / One of these for MC’s so they don’t have to scream” (“My Melody”). Right then and there, flow was the focal point in a rap song. And let’s not forget Eric B. He deserves as much credit as Rakim, and I’m still blasphemed as to why he isn’t listed among the greatest hip-hop producers. “I Know You Got Soul” apparently “single-handedly kicked off hip-hop’s infatuation with James Brown samples,” according to Steve Huey of AllMusic.com, even though it contains no James Brown sample whatsoever (maybe he meant soul samples), and anyone could fall in love with the beat thumping of “Paid in Full.” To simply put, if someone were to ask me a good hip-hop album, I’d suggest them this one because it’s one of the few that completely exemplifies hip-hop music. From flow to beats to borrowed lines and everything in between, its influence is everywhere in the hip-hop culture, which makes it all the more defining.
And that’s that! These may not be the general public’s usual favorites, but they are what I feel characterized such an astounding decade of hip-hop music, and anyone struck with this genre of music should listen to these albums before they die. May the arguing ensue, but before you start, I know a few other albums deserved to be on this short, concise list, so here are my honorable mentions:
Radio (1985) by LL Cool J
Licensed to Ill (1986) by the Beastie Boys
Long Live the Kane (1988) by Big Daddy Kane
A Mind Boggling Blog 