With the new film Prey just on the horizon,
we'll soon be seeing the very first motion picture depiction of a Predator hunt taking
place in the past. This is a concept that has always intrigued
fans, and it's a concept that Predator creators Jim and John Thomas had been considering ever
since the second film. On the commentary track for Predator 2, recorded
in 2004, Jim Thomas states, "It would be interesting down the line to
see another take on Predator. Possibly a historical piece. We played around with -on the set- of doing
something historical. What would it be like in a time when you had
nothing but steam engines and flintlocks, and you were up against something like this. That could be fun. Plenty of stories." The seed of this idea, of course, can be found
at the ending of Predator 2 after Lt. Harrigan defeats the City Hunter and encounters a large
group of Yautja on their spacecraft. Their apparent leader, an elder predator,
provides Harrigan with a trophy of sorts: a weapon from hundreds of years in the past. This Elder Predator holds a key to what we
would understand about that past, and the shaping of the Yautja code of honor. He has been referred to by many different
different names: Jim and John Thomas call him "The Ancient One," creature creator John
Rosengrant of Stan Winston Studios refers to him as "Greyback," and NECA, who had released
a figure of this Predator, took on the name: The Golden Angel. In 1996, a comic was published letting us
in on the origins of this predator and the trophy he gives to Harrigan. Predator: 1718, written by Henry Gilroy with
art by Igor Kordey originally appeared in a Dark Horse Comics special: A Decade of Darkhorse
and later became published along with the Predator comics line and was solidified in
its omnibus collection. The Golden Angel monicker is derived from
this story, and the history behind the pistol is revealed. In the year 1718, a lone predator is waiting
on the shores of the Guinea Coast. It spots a ship coming in. On its flags bears a symbol a skull, and cross
bones. These men are pirates, and a group of passengers
are rowing to the shore. As they get closer the sounds of an argument
can be heard. The man speaking is Raphael Adolini, the ship's
captain, clutching a chest. "What you lads done is far beyond the Brigand
Ship's code. The killin' of a priest and stealin' of the
sacraments is a worse kinda sin." A crewman shoots back: "That's loot same as
any other, cap'n! The whole crew is wit us in sayin' tis our
prop'ty now." Adolini is not convinced. The breaking of their code of honor has cut
him deep. "It belongs to the church, and that's whom
It's going to. Or I'm not your captain." The first crewman raises his rifle. The others grip their shovels ready. "If that's how it is, then...you're not our
capn." It is now clear to Adolini he's dealing with
Mutineers. They advance on him, and the treasure he holds. "Evil bastards!" he shouts, and draws his
pistol. The shot strikes a crewman directly in the
head as he swipes a shovel at the captain. Another he kicks in the face before the dead
man can hit the ground. Adolni is fast. He's precise with his firearm and physically
adept. But he knows when to run. The injured crewman fires the rifle at the
captain as he flees into the wooded area of the coast. The others plan for their attack. "Get your cutlass after 'im while'n I fetch
the others!" Camoflauged within the greenery, the Predator
watches. He waits, contemplating
what it has just witnessed. He sees Adolini trek his way further into
the woods, and a lone crewman fast on his trail. Both are armed with swords, and soon meet
atop a grassy hill. Adolini has stumbled, and appears exhausted. The crewman smiles to himself, ready to slay
the captain and retrieve the loot. The smile disappears. He lets out a blood-curdling groan as his
eyes widen with shock. Something has struck him. He's lifted off the ground. A large blade has pierced through his chest. He could not see his assailant, and Adolini
could only barely make it out. For a moment it looked as if the trees had
come to life. Looking closer it was a spectral figure...not
of this earth. A demon. It still gripped its weapon skewering the
crewman as the captain rose and swiped his sword at the figure. "Die, Demon!" he shouted. Sparks of lightning surrounded this figure
as it released its prey to the ground. It appeared in view to Adolini. He kept his sword raised,
and addressed this...demon. "Or, are you beast?" To his shock, it answered. A distorted voice echoed. "YOU BEAST." Adolini swong his sword with all his might,
barely grazing the armored plating on the creature's knee. It retrieved its own weapon from the dead
body on the ground, and struck back. Adolini blocked it, but the force brought
him to his knees. By this time, the remaining crewmates had
made their way to shore and follwed the signs of the disturbance ahead. One observed, "e's fightin' a Golden Angel!" "...or ell's lord isself!" They briefly watched the duel, trying to make
sense of the events unfolding before them. But their focus returned to their greed, and
the chest of treasure, still by the captain's feet. "No matter! Angel or devil, that treasure is ours to take
back. Who's man enough to go now!" A group cried out and came running in swords
ready. In a matter of no more than a second, this
Golden Angel sliced through two men's chests. Another was armed with a pistol and came at
the captain. He fired, but missed. Adolni had ducked the blast and in the same
motion sliced the throat of another mutineer with his sword. The fight continued. More bodies - and heads- and tumbling bloodily
to the ground. One of the crew was holding back...carefully
observing. He gathered the discarded rifles. Back to back...the captain, and the predator
each held their stance. "Bastards," adolini proclaimed. The distorted voice echoed back. "Bastards." It appeared all who wished them dead were
defeated. There were no more to fight against...except,
of course...each other. The thought quickly dawned on Adolini, and
he moved away from against the beast's back. He kept a pace ahead of it, facing it, and
drawing his weapon. The predator did the same. For a moment, the predator only stared at
the captain. It did not make the first move. Finally, the man shouted, "Well then, c'mon
beast!" Before either could make their move, a booming
blast rung out from behind the captain. He groaned in pain. The remaining crewman had revealed himself
from within the woods. Adoloni fell forward into the predator and
he caught the dying man in his arms. The bullet hole still smoking. The sword was still gripped in his hand. The crewman darted out and fired the other
rifle. "That treasure is mine, demon!" he shouted,
and the shot grazed an unarmored portion of the creature's leg. It fell back. As quickly as he could, the crewman ran for
the chest and grabbed it. "Mine!" he shouted. From the hill above he could see the ship
beginning to drift away. In the crewman's haste to chase after the
captain, it had not been anchored. A shot fired from the predator's shoulder
cannon, exploding through the mutineer's back and outwards from his chest. He was sent flying off the hill. Staring at his kill, the predator muttered
the words of Adolini once more: Bastards. From behind him, the dying sounds of the captain
could be heard. Coughing, and gurgling in his final moments. Blood ran down his mouth, and chest, soaking
the grass a deep red. He stared up to the predator, holding out
his pistol. Not a gesture to harm, but an offering. "Take it..." he said, and died. His final offering...his gift, to the alien
for this hunt had an engraving: Raphael Adolini. 1715. The predator laid the Captain in a makeshift
grave. With him, the chest he defended with his very
life. A loose piece that once hung from a necklace
on the captain's neck held his attention. . He examined the artifact closely. A solid gold crucifix. It glimmered in the setting sun. He threw it back, into the captain's grave. This dangling reminder, it observed to be
not unlike the mementos it adorned on itself from past hunts. A familiar sense of honor, and a code, could
be understood in his short time with this unusual human. He decided on a trade. The predator pulled out his weapon, used in
their battle, and unsheathed its blade. He decided to toss this into the grave as
well. "Take it," the distorted voice said. The sun set on the shores of the Guinea Coast. Raphael Adolin's ship rocked back and forth
against the petruding stones. It was slow, and silent, as if manned by an
invisible captain. The sky lit up a glorious gold, and its angel
returned to the heavens. The Predator held on to this trophy, after a hunt that seemed to forever
change its understanding of human honor, for nearly 300 years. After his victory against the Hunter in Los
Angeles, in 1997, it appeared the Elder finally found another human worthy of accepting this
now ancient weapon in harrigan. Its signficance is only hinted at in the actual
film, but the 1718 comic sheds some further light. There's also more to consider in the Predator
2 novelization by Simon Hawke, in which events play out a little differently, and in which
Harrigan takes a moment to consider why he was given this gift. The Predator Code of honor could be interpreted
differently as well, since the City Hunter has a different fate from what we see in the
final film. Here's what occurs in the novelization after
Harrigan defeats the hunter with its disc weapon: He froze at the sudden trilling sound coming
from behind him. He turned, and like a ghost appearing from
the mist, he saw another alien materialize behind him as its light-bending camouflage
screen faded away—and then another one, and still another, and another, and another. He felt the disc fall from his grasp. He backed away with utter disbelief, confronted
by the sight of ten of the alien creatures all around him. He felt the bottom drop out of his stomach
and his legs buckled beneath him. He sank to his knees with the sudden, horrifying
realization that it was all over. There was no escape. No hope. None whatsoever. As he watched, dazed, waiting for the final
blow to fall, the aliens advanced. But they ignored him and approached their
wounded, dying comrade. One of the aliens looked larger and older
than the others, its scaled skin a deeper, darker shade, its armor festooned with many
trophies taken from countless hunts throughout the universe. As this one approached, the wounded Predator
looked up and silently held out an arm in a gesture that might have been supplication,
or perhaps acceptance. Bending its head backwards, the wounded Predator
exposed its throat. The leader—it could only be the leader—raised
his arm magisterially, holding his weapon high. The twin blades gleamed. With a lightning stroke, the blades flashed
down. The severed head fell to the floor with a
thud, disappearing into the swirling mist. The penalty for failure, Harrigan thought,
numbly. He could only watch as the leader advanced
toward him. Watch and wait for the inevitable. The leader raised its arm—but the killing
stroke never came. The blades retracted, and for a long moment
the alien leader simply stood there, looking down at him. Then it reached behind itself and took out
some sort of object, which it tossed to Harrigan. Purely by reflex, Harrigan caught it. He stared at it, dumbstruck. It was an ancient, matchlock pistol, with
a silver forestock and buttcap. Engraved in the silver was a name, in Italian
script, and a date. Once Harrigan escapes the ship, and assess
himself as safe for the moment, the novelization goes on to explain some of the considerations
behind this pistol. Slowly, painfully, he rose to his knees and
staggered to his feet, still holding the ancient matchlock pistol in his hand. He stared down at it, wondering what it was
supposed to mean. What had the alien leader’s gesture in giving
it to him signified? An old, treasured trophy from some human,
taken centuries ago, who had proved a worthy opponent? A memento of the one that got away? Or perhaps the meaning was more literal. The presentation of an ancient, hopelessly
primitive weapon, signifying, "This is what you are to us. Remember..." The new film Prey is just about a week away,
its advertising is in full force, and speculations are abound as to how ecactly the Feral Predator's
hunt ties into the overall predator history. Eagle-eye'd fans have spotted a familiar-looking
pistol in one of the officially released stills, theorizing it may be the Raphael Adolini pistol. Could it be the very same pistol we saw at
the end of Predator 2? If so, will the backstory of the 1718 comic
be retconned? Or, is a pistol just a pistol? Comment below and share your thoughts. As always, I'd like to thank you very much
for watching today. If you enjoyed this video, please be sure
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