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In one of the bravura set pieces of the movie, they retaliate
against the Predator-Shadow with the full power of their
rational external personas. They bring all their professional
expertise to bear upon the problem facing them, but the
trouble is that it is merely more of the same behavior that
got them into this psychotic stage to begin with. I refer
of course to the extended firefight, where they shoot everything
they have at the Predator in a literally unbelievable sequence.
They rip the forest apart but only succeed in mildly wounding
the Shadow. This behavior is denial at its peak. They refuse
to admit that there is a situation that they cannot solve
and they throw the entire weight of their skills and technology
at it in the hope that they can bury it in bullets. To compulsively
deny anything is wrong and aggressively carry on 'as usual'
is one of the subtler forms of insanity.
(It is also rather delightful that the entire sequence can
also be read only too obviously to mirror the modern invasive
surgical practices that are practiced when disease is sought
to be cut out, or burnt out in chemotherapy, rather than
cured. The 'cancer' is only wounded and comes back with
greater virulence after a mild regression-recuperation.)
This posturing and cranking up of normal behavioral patterns
is to no avail. They continue to be killed and skinned
one by one. There is even a delightful episode where they
lay a trap for the Predator and a pig stumbles into it,
which they kill. This too is psychologically astute. If
you are in denial, you will perform some showy action
that 'proves' to your entire satisfaction that you have
'solved the problem' and proceed in your usual unhealthy
fashion. The Predator is inherently unkillable as long
as they approach it in the standard manner. For every
technological flourish in guns they wave about (phallic
symbols of virility and power) the Predator has something
infinitely more deadly. They have Painless but the Predator
has a laser-shooting weapon and like all good Shadows
is practically invisible. It comes into sight only at
the moment it strikes you down.
Only the American-Indian tracker in the unit, Billy, knows
that they are not facing up to a normal man and consequently
he cannot be killed normally. Billy's insight however is
no use for him as he is paralyzed with superstitious fear.
He drops away the cocoon of technology that he is encased
in and fights the predator with a knife. The combat is merely
a gesture however for he is too fearful to win. In real
terms his Shadow devours him. Only Major Dutch Schultz,
the leader and soul of the Dantai remains.
He is chased by the Predator who deliberately toys with
him and it ends with his going over a cliff into a pool
of crystal-clear water. This is the ritual purificatory
bath that many mystery cults insist upon before they reveal
the final mysteries. In the Shaman's Journey it is almost
taken for granted that you will have to plunge into a body
of water at some time or the other, but especially at moments
of approaching crisis/significance.
Curiously after this bath, the major has to crawl through the mud
on the banks of the pool. He is a filthy mess but he is
too tired and grateful to be alive to resent it. This acceptance
of filth, symbolic of his inner darkness or mess is the
first step towards healing. This is what he is, no disguises,
no external constructs of persona, no self-deluding images
of strength and valor in shining uniforms. This embracing
of the muck is a coming to terms with what you really are
and always the most difficult stage of psychological maturity.
All of us would like to think we are shining heroes
and we do not like the swamp of unconscious motivations
and desires and regrets and denials that fill up the psyche.
Recognizing this, accepting this, and not being destroyed
by it are vital processes in healing. This is the rejuvenation
stage.
The mud saves the major's life, as he has become invisible
to the Predator. As long as he thought of himself as separate
from the Shadow it could wreak havoc. As soon as he accepts
his reality, all the demons of the unconscious no longer
have power over him. The major does not realize it at first.
He thinks he is going to die and accepts that. This recognition
of the possibility of death and an acceptance of it is a
vital part of the Shaman's Journey. Without coming to terms
with death you cannot go ahead. The rejuvenation is now
complete. He could slink away and 'save' himself but he
recognizes that will not help him. Each death in his unit
was like his own and he owes it to all of them to overcome
this inner foe.
Now he actually challenges the Predator to come after him. He
is stripped down to the bare-bones essence of a human being
now, and there is nothing more powerful and dangerous than
that. Gone are the trappings of success and professionalism
and artificiality. The major rediscovers the old warrior
credo, "It's not the weapon, but the man". There is nothing
here but what is inside, he has discovered the inner man,
the real man, and everything operates from that incredible
state of awareness. He literally becomes a part of his surroundings
and his tools and weapons are those fashioned by the mind
and ingenuity of a man functioning at this peak, not factory
produced. Bows and arrows, slingshot and boulders and spears
and fireballs replace the high tech. He moves into the realm
of mythic combat, no longer functioning in the competition-game
mode. He assaults the Shadow as a fully aware, totally
integrated personality, not as somebody with a fractured
psyche. The victory restores psychological equilibrium,
though he well knows there will be devastation all round
as a consequence. But that is temporary and worth the price.
It is the Predator who now makes the mistakes, relying on
technology instead of awareness and he is crushed by a boulder
set up for that purpose by the major.
The dying Predator has a final nasty surprise (a mini nuke)
up his sleeve, the last kick of a Shadow that is fighting
for survival and resists integration. The major wisely
runs from this, it is not good to stay too long in the
realms of the unconscious, especially when you have
done your job. In choosing so he shows his fresh maturity,
there is no false macho posturing any more.
Major Dutch Schultz has finally made the transition
from being merely Andros - man as a physical being
to becoming Anthropos - man in his wholeness.
The experience, like all shamanistic transformations,
has scarred and transformed him and he maintains an
ominous silence even when the civilized world's helicopters
finally pick him up. No Arnold Schwarzennager wisecracks
punctuate this finale of the return to the real world.
It is a fair guess that he will retire from 'rescue
missions'. He is a new man now and the old ways do not
apply. It seems to me that the fascination of the movie
lies in the spectacle of watching this Shaman's Journey.
We are all vicarious participants and at some deep level
we feel the archetypal resonances too deeply not to
be moved. This explains why the Predator does not seem
dated either nor is there any real likelihood of it
ever becoming irrelevant, unlike its sequel which was
pretty bad.
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