Dan Trachtenberg has done it again — and this time, he’s done it with serious guts. Predator: Badlands isn’t just another entry in the long-running sci-fi saga; it’s a bold reimagining that dares to turn the entire mythos inside out. Following up Prey in 202e and Predator: Killer of Killers, Trachtenberg takes the franchise to wild new territory — literally and thematically — with a story that centres not on the humans being hunted, but on the hunter himself.
Set on a remote planet in the far future, the film follows Dek (Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi), a young Yautja cast out of his clan for being too small, too weak and too different. His exile sends him on a brutal odyssey of survival and self-discovery — a quest to prove himself worthy by finding the ultimate prey. Along the way, he meets Thia, a malfunctioning Weyland-Yutani synthetic brought to life with haunting fragility by Elle Fanning. What follows is part road movie, part existential buddy adventure and part blood-soaked sci-fi spectacle.
This movie takes some huge swings — and most of them connect. Trachtenberg’s decision to make the Predator the emotional core of the story feels almost rebellious, and it pays off with surprising depth. For the first time, the creature isn’t just a symbol of unstoppable power; it’s a being struggling his own identity and purpose. The dynamic between Dek and Thia is the film’s beating heart, their uneasy alliance growing into something that feels both strange and touching.
Visually, Badlands is a breathtaking. Cinematographer Jeff Cutter captures alien deserts and neon storms with the grandeur of a fever dream. The action — especially the physical stuff — is visceral and inventive, blending primal brutality with kinetic grace. It’s easily some of the best physical choreography in the entire series.
That said, Badlands isn’t perfect. Its ambition occasionally trips it up — a few tonal shifts feel a bit out of sync with the rest of the story, and longtime Predator fans might miss the stripped-down tension of the earlier films. But even when the film stumbles, you can’t help but admire its audacity. This is a director taking a decades-old franchise and refusing to play it safe.
In the end, this isn’t just another sequel — it’s a statement. It’s proof that even a monster franchise can evolve without losing its teeth. Bold, bizarre, and unexpectedly moving, it’s the kind of risk-taking sci-fi we don’t see enough of nowadays.
