You Know the Meme — But Here’s What the Handshake in 'Predator' Really Meant

When it comes to action movies, especially those starring hulking beefcakes like Arnold Schwarzenegger, machismo and bravado are a given. We can expect a testosterone-fueled saga in every frame.

And yet, not every such movie is capable of pulling off high-voltage drama with just a handshake. That’s where Predator (1987) stands apart.

What begins as a friendly reunion between Dutch (Arnold Schwarzenegger) and Dillon (Carl Weathers), in the sweltering heat of a Central American jungle, in the blink of an eye turns into a silent battle for dominance and authority. Of course, what we see on screen is locking of hands turning into locking of horns.

The scene is memorable because it packs power in simplicity. It doesn’t need any exposition to establish the film’s core character dynamics or its thematic echo of alpha-male dominance. Just two colleagues and a handshake. The rest of the drama, i.e., the war of egos, is carried entirely by posture and expression.

Anyway, let’s find out the alchemy of this scene by first knowing these two men.

The Players in the Area: A Reunion of Rivals

Before we get into the handshake, a.k.a. the battle for dominance, we must familiarize ourselves with the players. Because this isn’t a regular meeting of two old pals; this is the collision of two completely different worlds.

Major Alan “Dutch” Schaefer

In a nutshell, Dutch is an archetype of a no-nonsense field commander. His loyalty is to the men he leads, not to the assignment—or to the bureaucracy that assigns it. He is driven by instincts rather than calculated judgment. When he locks fists—let’s accept it, it’s more of an arm wrestling match than just a handshake—with Dillon, he also locks his eyes on him. And that stare says everything we need to know about him, both as a man and as a leader.

Major Al Dillon

Major Al Dillon, referred to only as Dillon, was once Dutch’s brother-in-arms in Vietnam. He, however, since becoming a CIA operative, has been bureaucratized. Even though they are still the same old friends, Dillon shows up as someone who has now transitioned from battlefield to briefing room; he comes wearing a tie—no wonder Dutch mocks him by calling him a “pencil-pusher.”

Ex-Comrades in the Divided Present

Vietnam, the field where they fought shoulder to shoulder, is now a distant past. These “brothers” are now on different paths. Dutch has stayed loyal to his raw, untamed world of ground warfare, whereas Dillon has chosen a career of strategy and paperwork that lets him pull strings from behind the scenes. Their grip around each other’s arms is both a bridge and a barrier between their respective worlds.

The Scene: Mission vs. Machismo

Like any scene worth its salt, this one too is the product of its layered execution. Multiple factors, such as writing, camera framing, direction, and obviously performances, contribute to the scene’s impact.

The Dialogue: “Dillon, You Son of a Bitch!”

Call it a regular friendly insult or a masculine greeting, but “son of a bitch!” in this scene is loaded with history we can only guess at. It, however, sets the tone of affectionate rivalry that is about to get intense.

The Physical Standoff: The Test of Strength

This is the moment where subtext becomes the text. The handshake turns into a contest where both men want to establish dominance. This is man’s most primal instinct taking over in real time.

The Performance: Schwarzenegger’s Grin vs. Weathers’ Glare

We may disagree on who won the power contest, Dutch or Dillon, but when it comes to the performance, it’s both Schwarzenegger and Weathers who take the cake. Their respective characters remain who they are meant to be—Schwarzenegger’s Dutch, a grinning, confident man who is in control of both the physical and mental power play, and Weathers’ Dillon, a man trying to prove he still measures up.

The Cinematography: An Uncomfortably Close Look at Raw Power

Had it been a cursory handshake, a mid-shot would have been the way to go. The scene has nothing cursory about it, though. To convey the power dynamic between Dutch and Dillon, director McTiernan frames their handshake in a tight close-up that shows everything we need to see—bulging biceps, strained veins, and glistening sweat. Everything screams “power”—because that’s all that exists between these two men. In this shot, the muscles are the words we need to hear.

Directorial Craft: Blocking as Storytelling

As we established earlier, the handshake in this scene is not cursory. McTiernan doesn’t treat it like a placeholder. He blocks the shot in a way that centers both Dutch and Dillon in the frame, equally dominant, and then, he lets their bodies (their physicality) call the shots. This way, the standoff organically turns into a mini duel as intended.

Cultural Impact

The scene’s impact didn’t stay contained within its screentime; it went on to define the ‘80s action genre before it gained its universally recognizable cultural significance.

Defining the ‘80s Action Cinema

While it’s still in the same league of ‘80s films that defined machismo, muscles, and explosions, Predator managed to condense this soul into one single frame. You can watch only the scene and tell which decade you were in. That’s how brilliantly it encapsulates the spirit of ‘80s action cinema.

The Handshake in Pop Culture

The handshake has, ever since, become a cultural shorthand and an internet meme. It’s now a universally recognized—of course, humorous—symbol of anything from brotherhood, unity, political alliances, corporate mergers, or any overblown agreement between two powerhouses.

The Echo in the Jungle

One might say it’s a long stretch, but the handshake serves as a symbolic precursor to the eponymous alien predator. Having distanced himself from Dutch, both in career and priorities, Dillon is no longer the man he once was with Dutch. He is different, and he is predatory. This handshake foreshadows Dutch’s fight with the actual predator.

It’s because of such undertones that the scene endures. It’s a perfect blend of character, theme, and bare spectacle. In just a few seconds, it captures the push and pull between friendship vs. rivalry and loyalty vs. deception.

The grip still holds tight because it says everything about power, pride, and identity without a single wasted word.