Storm Seekers. This once promised Darryl Hannah, a bonafide movie star. It was hard to tell, it wasn't clear if she'd not exactly aged like fine wine or lost an argument with a plastic surgeon. For plus points, she's a meteorologist in charge of flying a plane through a hurricane. Huzzah. Hurricanes and aeroplanes. Of course, fatuous fathead director of the weather service won't take Darryl's advice about the unfolding windy climate calamity. They never do. The pilot's eyes get fried by the exploding electrics at a crucial point and a nearby reporter has to fly the plane (or rather just push the stick), despite the perfectly serviceable co-pilot sitting next to him. Everyone who isn't on the ground defers to Darryl, though she doesn't appear to know anything about flying aeroplanes through hurricanes. All the elements were there, but they failed to line up into something bad enough to be entertaining. Oh, and despite everything, it seems Jacksonville got destroyed but by then the movie was over. Sorry, Jacksonville. Basically this movie wasn't bad enough to be good.
Alien Showdown. After that soggy disappointment, I figured a mockbuster was called for. This one appealed, it seemed to be Predator vs Cowboys vs Aliens, and that promised a person in a cheap rubber monster suit, one of my top movie things. Get popcorn. It didn't disappoint. This movie was awesomely bad on every possible dimension. The editing, the script, the acting, the sfx, the score. It was bingo-winning bad, they got every box. Now it was the Predator, just not a very scary one (possibly he had a dim cousin), and it appears from the constant need to shake its head, to suffer from swimmer's ear. It also stomped. THUD THUD THUD. Absolutely no good for sneaking up on someone. Despite having a nifty gatling-type laser gun, the alien couldn't even shoot a cowboy, I don't think he could have even shot his own foot. This was not a scary alien. It gloriously disturbing at one point – the predator stopped to admire a nubile young lady stripping off to undertake the wild west bathing experience. I honestly thought I'd stumbled into genre of alien vs cowgirl porn. I consider myself liberal, but for god's sake, even I've got bounds. I was relieved when the predator settled for killing her. It was better for everyone. Also, I'm no expert on wild west medical technology, but I feel sure that no one back then had quite that level of pneumatic augmentation.
That was the wild west portion. So far, so good. But it segued back and forth to the present day where a scientist who wasn't very good at any kind of science was trying to stop the predator inviting all his friends back and there was a danger they'd learned to shoot in the meantime. No mention of whether he intended to send a warning about swimmer's ear. Imagine the embarrassment of a galactic invasion brought short by a blocked ear canal. Future scientist had smaller breasts. I mentioned this, not just because I'm foul minded, but because the director made sure I knew in a scene where snoozing future scientist was gradually exposed as her blanket was pulled away. By a Grey (yes, alien fans, an actual Grey, did I not mention that?). So we've moved on from lecherous perv predators to gratuitous gazing Greys. Well, they do traditionally zip around the galaxy on a mission to probe the orifices of small town Americans, so possibly we should be surprised. Although in this move, the Greys (spendid rendered as either puppets or a very small person in a rubber suit, please please please let it be the latter) are the good aliens who when they aren't spanking themselves off to semi-naked scientists are looking out for a mankind threatened by imminent doom from the sky. Fortunately it all came together and the world was saved. Other than the cowboy of course, who spent most of the movie dead, which saved us from his peculiar take on acting.
Absolutely, spendidly awful, and it more than made up for Storm Seekers. Once is enough though, I honestly could not watch this movie again.