Acid blood-dripping insectoid aliens clash with dreadlocked intergalactic big-game hunters in Alien vs. Predator (or AVP, for those who like to conserve words), and the central question posed by such a heavyweight cinematic showdown is: Who are we supposed to root for? Is it the Aliens, the rabid, dual-mouthed “others” that see humans as convenient baby incubators? Or the camouflaged pseudo-Rastafarian Predators, who enjoy the sport of stalking and murdering people? Schlock director Paul W. Anderson (Resident Evil) makes no bones about where humanity’s allegiance should lie in this unsurprisingly mediocre (and PG-13!) battle of the titans, imagining Aliens as ferocious animals bred by Predators for use in a coming-of-age ritual held inside a shape-shifting pyramid under the Antarctic’s surface. Anderson doesn’t try to make his film logically mesh with the franchise’s separate mythologies, choosing instead to devise some cockamamie back-story about Predators as ancient Incan gods who gave birth to human civilization. And his means of getting humans involved in this intergalactic struggle – they’re all “experts” investigating the mysterious pyramid on behalf of the shady multinational Weyland corporation – is as lazy as set-ups get. It’s nice to see Lance Henriksen appear as visionary businessman Charles Weyland (his presence, as well as a brief glimpse of him darting a knife between his fingers, is a satisfying allusion to his Aliens android Bishop), and Sanaa Lathan gives her heroic environmental activist Alexa Woods a gutsy feistiness that’s absent in her two-dimensional monster-fodder cohorts. Yet making Lathan and the Predator tag-team partners against the rampaging Alien Queen is a decision of goofy illogicality (if Predators are this intelligent and nice, why did they spend their first screen moments mindlessly slaughtering innocent men?) that, in the end, convincingly proves that Aliens are exponentially cooler than Predators, this film’s humans, or Paul W. Anderson. Down with the bipeds!