Confession time, folks: unlike a great number of males of my generation, I don’t worship at the trough of All Things Predator.
Now, don’t get me wrong: I’ve no major issues with the 1987 original. The John McTiernan-directed Science Fiction actioner remains one of the great flicks to come out of the 1980’s, and there’s no denying that this formulaic winner not only set the bar high for competitors but also laid a foundation atop which a fascinating expanse of imitators tried to build their own wing. Honestly, my issues with it lie more in the fact that some of the performers are a bit over-the-top hammy – yes, I know many will tell you that’s deliberate – and I’ve just never quite been comfortable with that style of acting. There are also a few snippets of dialogue in the Jim and John Thomas penned script that – were it me directing or editing – I would’ve excised for no other reason than I see them as more than a bit silly. Of course, I hear you, I hear you: there’s no argument against its exalted place in filmdom, but ‘round these parts each of us are allowed to have civil disagreements on what we think works and doesn’t, and, yes, there are some trivial things I’d alter. Such is life.
Still, my fondness for both the film and the place it rightfully holds in film history has made me an attentive participant in the larger Predator fandom. Also unlike many others, I’m not a huge fan of Predator 2 (1990), Predators (2010), or even The Predator (2018), having some pretty large complaints over characters and circumstances within each that gets a bit too complicated to go into lightly (nor do I wish to at this point). While 2004’s AVP: Alien Vs Predator was only an entirely acceptable popcorn variant on a scenario previously explored much better in Dark Horse Comics, it, too, is inferior in far too many ways to count; and it’s safe to say that – so far as this viewer is concerned – the entire Predator species deserves better treatment than it’s ever gotten in the silver screen. Hell, even 2022’s Prey – the Hulu telefilm that kinda/sorta served to demonstrate that maybe Hollywood should, at least, dust off this property and give it some consideration – kinda/sorta missed the boat a bit in what works and what doesn’t in this unique universe; and yet it still offered up a few moments worthy of consideration.
All of this brings me to – ahem – Predator: Badlands (2025), a spiritual sequel (of sorts) to Prey but, thankfully, it goes almost entirely in a different narrative direction. Rather than deliver one more treatise of a seminal hunter in pursuit of its quarry, Badlands expands on that formula by giving audiences a huntsman in search of more than simply a trophy: Dek is an inferior offspring meant to have been culled from his clan whose survival grants the alien an opportunity to say something greater about his species’ addictions to rules, requirements, and traditions in an era (ours) that heavily invests in – ahem – diversity, tolerance, and “one’s own personal truth.” As a consequence, Badlands has ignited some controversy across fandom as to whether or not it’s a necessary story in this world as opposed to being a rather obvious (if not lazy) modernization of the whole mythology.
Now, don’t get me wrong: I’ve no major issues with the 1987 original. The John McTiernan-directed Science Fiction actioner remains one of the great flicks to come out of the 1980’s, and there’s no denying that this formulaic winner not only set the bar high for competitors but also laid a foundation atop which a fascinating expanse of imitators tried to build their own wing. Honestly, my issues with it lie more in the fact that some of the performers are a bit over-the-top hammy – yes, I know many will tell you that’s deliberate – and I’ve just never quite been comfortable with that style of acting. There are also a few snippets of dialogue in the Jim and John Thomas penned script that – were it me directing or editing – I would’ve excised for no other reason than I see them as more than a bit silly. Of course, I hear you, I hear you: there’s no argument against its exalted place in filmdom, but ‘round these parts each of us are allowed to have civil disagreements on what we think works and doesn’t, and, yes, there are some trivial things I’d alter. Such is life.
Still, my fondness for both the film and the place it rightfully holds in film history has made me an attentive participant in the larger Predator fandom. Also unlike many others, I’m not a huge fan of Predator 2 (1990), Predators (2010), or even The Predator (2018), having some pretty large complaints over characters and circumstances within each that gets a bit too complicated to go into lightly (nor do I wish to at this point). While 2004’s AVP: Alien Vs Predator was only an entirely acceptable popcorn variant on a scenario previously explored much better in Dark Horse Comics, it, too, is inferior in far too many ways to count; and it’s safe to say that – so far as this viewer is concerned – the entire Predator species deserves better treatment than it’s ever gotten in the silver screen. Hell, even 2022’s Prey – the Hulu telefilm that kinda/sorta served to demonstrate that maybe Hollywood should, at least, dust off this property and give it some consideration – kinda/sorta missed the boat a bit in what works and what doesn’t in this unique universe; and yet it still offered up a few moments worthy of consideration.
All of this brings me to – ahem – Predator: Badlands (2025), a spiritual sequel (of sorts) to Prey but, thankfully, it goes almost entirely in a different narrative direction. Rather than deliver one more treatise of a seminal hunter in pursuit of its quarry, Badlands expands on that formula by giving audiences a huntsman in search of more than simply a trophy: Dek is an inferior offspring meant to have been culled from his clan whose survival grants the alien an opportunity to say something greater about his species’ addictions to rules, requirements, and traditions in an era (ours) that heavily invests in – ahem – diversity, tolerance, and “one’s own personal truth.” As a consequence, Badlands has ignited some controversy across fandom as to whether or not it’s a necessary story in this world as opposed to being a rather obvious (if not lazy) modernization of the whole mythology.
Of course, breaking a few eggs is always required to make an omelet, and I suppose that’s true if you look at Badlands as being something akin to a breakfast meal. In the wrong hands, however, a bunch of broken eggs becomes less of a delicacy and more of an egg soup; and I think that’s part of the risk with this installment … along with several other significant factors …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A young Predator outcast from his clan finds an unlikely ally on his journey in search of the ultimate adversary.”
A quick search of Google.com informs that there exist in our universe a total of eight films involved the Predator universe at this point. No that it necessarily matters to the pictures, there have also been comic books, graphic novels, as well as written adventures that have all used the alien species in some capacity. Suffice it to say, if you’re a Predator fan, then it’s still a great time to be alive … and not hunted!
Despite having been given a respectable deal of exposure, there isn’t all that much mythology that’s been openly attached to the race. In fact, one might be able to count the bullet points on a single hand as to what is universally accepted as Predator truths; and – whether one agrees or not – I suspect that’s been done by design. Some creatures simply work better when they’re a bit mysterious, and we’re not allowed to pass all that deeply behind the curtain. Removing what makes them unique – that they’re shrouded in secrecy and ripe to turn up whenever needed – has served the franchise better than most; and – dare I say – fans don’t typically show up to a Predator film expecting some new nugget of treasured information about the critters. Rather, they’re here for the action. They’re here for the excitement. They’re here to experience the vicarious thrill of the hunt. And that’s the bottom line.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A young Predator outcast from his clan finds an unlikely ally on his journey in search of the ultimate adversary.”
A quick search of Google.com informs that there exist in our universe a total of eight films involved the Predator universe at this point. No that it necessarily matters to the pictures, there have also been comic books, graphic novels, as well as written adventures that have all used the alien species in some capacity. Suffice it to say, if you’re a Predator fan, then it’s still a great time to be alive … and not hunted!
Despite having been given a respectable deal of exposure, there isn’t all that much mythology that’s been openly attached to the race. In fact, one might be able to count the bullet points on a single hand as to what is universally accepted as Predator truths; and – whether one agrees or not – I suspect that’s been done by design. Some creatures simply work better when they’re a bit mysterious, and we’re not allowed to pass all that deeply behind the curtain. Removing what makes them unique – that they’re shrouded in secrecy and ripe to turn up whenever needed – has served the franchise better than most; and – dare I say – fans don’t typically show up to a Predator film expecting some new nugget of treasured information about the critters. Rather, they’re here for the action. They’re here for the excitement. They’re here to experience the vicarious thrill of the hunt. And that’s the bottom line.
So taking a character and redefining its role theatrically – i.e. making a Predator into not one of the main players but the absolute central character to everything that transpires – was always going to be an unwarranted risk. In storytelling, main characters require greater exposure to the audience. Whether we like it or not, we get to know them on more than one level, sometimes meaning that we get to see what their lifelong goals and aspirations might be. These movers and shakers are imbued with arcs – journeys for goodness or ill – and they actively walk toward accomplishing some major goal or overcoming a fundamental weakness meant to turn them into better people. Of course, there might be some modest interest in watching a hunter – as an example – get better at his craft by honing his skills and achieving the intellectual skill set necessary to rise to the leadership of his clan; and, yet, overall such a trip isn’t (again) why fans purchase a ticket to watch a flick in the Predator universe.
Consequently, Badlands is that anomaly in the franchise. Instead of doing that which has been done before, writer/director Dan Trachtenberg plotted out more of a coming-of-age story: Dek (played by Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi) is a Yautja runt who was designated as inferior and sent out by his father to be killed by his brother, Kwei (Michael Homick), in some kind of ritual showdown. Instead, Kwei opts to use this as a ‘teachable moment,’ hoping to teach the younger hunter some of the mental and psychologically talents necessary to succeed. Not unlike Jedi Warriors training to be the best they can be, Kwei and Dek use Badlands’ set-up to solid effect, chasing one another through the catacombs of an alien world trying to best one another in a staged hunt.
Naturally, all of this turns to crap when Daddy Dearest (Reuben de Jong) shows up to find Dek still alive and kicking. Such open disobedience from Kwei is a challenge to his leadership, and the Father takes up arms against his older son, rather easily wiping out the upstart in pretty spectacular fashion. In his dying moments, Kwei locks Dek aboard his own spaceship and blasts the youngling off toward a distant world where the Predator is granted the chance to capture and bring back the head of a Kalisk, the only creature known to have instilled fear into his father and the rest of their clan.
As I said, it isn’t all that hard to see how Badlands both uses and ignores certain pieces of what has come before in its growing cosmos. Unlike Trachtenberg’s initial suggestions, Dek is a very skilled seeker – he’s tested multiple times on this planet named Genna before ever getting near the famed Kalisk – so much so that there’s not a great deal of doubt as to whether or not he’s destined for greater things. The twist here is that his bounty turns out to be essentially unkillable – it possesses an almost magical ability to regenerate itself, even while decapitated – so Dek still has something to learn about knowing one’s adversary before hatching a scheme to go out willy-nilly.
Consequently, Badlands is that anomaly in the franchise. Instead of doing that which has been done before, writer/director Dan Trachtenberg plotted out more of a coming-of-age story: Dek (played by Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi) is a Yautja runt who was designated as inferior and sent out by his father to be killed by his brother, Kwei (Michael Homick), in some kind of ritual showdown. Instead, Kwei opts to use this as a ‘teachable moment,’ hoping to teach the younger hunter some of the mental and psychologically talents necessary to succeed. Not unlike Jedi Warriors training to be the best they can be, Kwei and Dek use Badlands’ set-up to solid effect, chasing one another through the catacombs of an alien world trying to best one another in a staged hunt.
Naturally, all of this turns to crap when Daddy Dearest (Reuben de Jong) shows up to find Dek still alive and kicking. Such open disobedience from Kwei is a challenge to his leadership, and the Father takes up arms against his older son, rather easily wiping out the upstart in pretty spectacular fashion. In his dying moments, Kwei locks Dek aboard his own spaceship and blasts the youngling off toward a distant world where the Predator is granted the chance to capture and bring back the head of a Kalisk, the only creature known to have instilled fear into his father and the rest of their clan.
As I said, it isn’t all that hard to see how Badlands both uses and ignores certain pieces of what has come before in its growing cosmos. Unlike Trachtenberg’s initial suggestions, Dek is a very skilled seeker – he’s tested multiple times on this planet named Genna before ever getting near the famed Kalisk – so much so that there’s not a great deal of doubt as to whether or not he’s destined for greater things. The twist here is that his bounty turns out to be essentially unkillable – it possesses an almost magical ability to regenerate itself, even while decapitated – so Dek still has something to learn about knowing one’s adversary before hatching a scheme to go out willy-nilly.
Because the film feels deliberately crafted to expand upon what’s been established before, Trachtenberg incorporates the modern Hollywood template that strongly asserts that families aren’t all they’re cracked up to be and – in some cases – don’t deserve the respect they’ve been given over the years. Defying his training, Dek kinda/sorta joins forces with Thia (Elle Fanning), a Weiland-Yutani synthetic that’s been dispatched to Genna to – interestingly enough – recover a specimen of a Kalisk so that the corporation can study its reformative properties. While our Predator initially refuses to help Thia (she’s already been torn in half by another indigenous creature), he has a ‘change of heart’ once the synth suggests that he think of her more as a tool – or a weapon – meant to be used in the completion of his hunt. For the record, this is only the first ‘change of heart,’ and Badlands clearly seeks to recast the franchise’s internal dynamics to reflect contemporary ideals instead of staying true to past strengths, instead portraying them as weaknesses.
This is exactly the kind of Cultural Revision that so much of die-hard fandom speaks up against.
Instead of delivering entertainment which adheres to already existing lore or even the most basic rules of these fictional universes, Hollywood and its most vocal proponents have sought to dismantle that which makes these properties special in order to recast them in molds intended to – ahem – better fit their political ideologies. In other words, rather than give audiences what they want, this modern age of storyteller has stripped the superhero of nationalism and replaced them with global identities. They’ve defanged monsters in pursuit of pushing allegories which suggest science is now ‘in the minds’ of those who choose which genes are dominant in their own bodies and not unalterable DNA. In Star Wars, they’ve made Jedis – who seek no love – into homosexuals and even pedophiles who’ll use their skills to advance individual schemes instead of striving for law and order. In Star Trek, they’ve promoted captains who constantly cry and almost magically know the right solution without ever having authentically earned the chance to sit in the center seat to command. In Doctor Who, they’ve swapped genders, promoted a trans-lifestyle, and even gone so far as to suggest long-established definitions and roles of men, women, and babies need to be reconsidered.
It's this kind of Moral Creep that infests far too much of modern filmmaking. Instead of telling good stories, storytellers believe they’ve earned some God-given right to stand atop the cinematic soapbox and preach about what they personally believe ails society as a whole. When audiences show up expecting to be entertained, these charlatans instead take their opportunities to sit in judgment over things their writing suggests they either know little about, deliberately ignore, or might be completely ignorant of. While, yes, I’ll concede there’s a bit of this undercurrent throughout Badlands, I’ll always admit that – in all honesty – I wasn’t all that much offended.
This is exactly the kind of Cultural Revision that so much of die-hard fandom speaks up against.
Instead of delivering entertainment which adheres to already existing lore or even the most basic rules of these fictional universes, Hollywood and its most vocal proponents have sought to dismantle that which makes these properties special in order to recast them in molds intended to – ahem – better fit their political ideologies. In other words, rather than give audiences what they want, this modern age of storyteller has stripped the superhero of nationalism and replaced them with global identities. They’ve defanged monsters in pursuit of pushing allegories which suggest science is now ‘in the minds’ of those who choose which genes are dominant in their own bodies and not unalterable DNA. In Star Wars, they’ve made Jedis – who seek no love – into homosexuals and even pedophiles who’ll use their skills to advance individual schemes instead of striving for law and order. In Star Trek, they’ve promoted captains who constantly cry and almost magically know the right solution without ever having authentically earned the chance to sit in the center seat to command. In Doctor Who, they’ve swapped genders, promoted a trans-lifestyle, and even gone so far as to suggest long-established definitions and roles of men, women, and babies need to be reconsidered.
It's this kind of Moral Creep that infests far too much of modern filmmaking. Instead of telling good stories, storytellers believe they’ve earned some God-given right to stand atop the cinematic soapbox and preach about what they personally believe ails society as a whole. When audiences show up expecting to be entertained, these charlatans instead take their opportunities to sit in judgment over things their writing suggests they either know little about, deliberately ignore, or might be completely ignorant of. While, yes, I’ll concede there’s a bit of this undercurrent throughout Badlands, I’ll always admit that – in all honesty – I wasn’t all that much offended.
You see, it’s a fictional universe; and while I can accept that some viewers show up – like even myself – to critically assess what’s good and noble in the entire effort I just couldn’t get all that worked up about Trachtenberg’s sermonizing. While the film unquestionably ends on a note suggesting that he’s hoping to entirely redefine what role gender plays in the Predator universe (I won’t spoil it, but let’s just say the female of the species is suggested to be vastly more terrifying than the male has ever been), I just didn’t care enough about these central characters to get all that invested in this bit of fluff. It’s passable escapism, at best, with a healthy side order to proselytizing; but – in the finale – it just felt … erm … inconsequential?
Frankly, I find it more objectionable that Trachtenberg has debatably pulled directly from Native Indian culture to revamp the Yautja. Were I so inclined to get up on my own soapbox and take a stand, why wouldn’t I argue against keeping what makes one race unique in the real universe separate from your fictional ones? Of course, there can be similarities, but I felt it was pretty evident what comparisons the screenwriter was trying to both make and advance here; and – were I of a certain heritage – I might take issue with the cultural vandalism. (Hell, one might even suggest that these Yautja acted far more like Star Trek’s Klingon warriors than they did true Predators!) But as I often say, “To each his own …”
Furthermore, Badlands utilizes much more Comedy to tell this particular story, and I’m not certain how much of it was all that effective. Laughs are often inserted to lighten the mood or allow audiences to take a breather from the thrills and chills, so some of Thia’s one-liners are perfectly acceptable. Drawing a line – especially when it comes to humor – is never an easy decision because who wants to sacrifice a great laugh even if it’s unnecessary? A handful of smaller moments here could’ve been strengthened dramatically if Trachtenberg had allowed those themes to simmer, but perhaps he couldn’t help himself once he got that ball rolling. The last reel includes an assortment of violent slapstick (Thia finds her bottom half, and it develops a life of its own) that I never thought I’d see in a Predator film, and yet here we are.
Frankly, I find it more objectionable that Trachtenberg has debatably pulled directly from Native Indian culture to revamp the Yautja. Were I so inclined to get up on my own soapbox and take a stand, why wouldn’t I argue against keeping what makes one race unique in the real universe separate from your fictional ones? Of course, there can be similarities, but I felt it was pretty evident what comparisons the screenwriter was trying to both make and advance here; and – were I of a certain heritage – I might take issue with the cultural vandalism. (Hell, one might even suggest that these Yautja acted far more like Star Trek’s Klingon warriors than they did true Predators!) But as I often say, “To each his own …”
Furthermore, Badlands utilizes much more Comedy to tell this particular story, and I’m not certain how much of it was all that effective. Laughs are often inserted to lighten the mood or allow audiences to take a breather from the thrills and chills, so some of Thia’s one-liners are perfectly acceptable. Drawing a line – especially when it comes to humor – is never an easy decision because who wants to sacrifice a great laugh even if it’s unnecessary? A handful of smaller moments here could’ve been strengthened dramatically if Trachtenberg had allowed those themes to simmer, but perhaps he couldn’t help himself once he got that ball rolling. The last reel includes an assortment of violent slapstick (Thia finds her bottom half, and it develops a life of its own) that I never thought I’d see in a Predator film, and yet here we are.
I have followed some of the reportage regarding Badlands’ controversy. In short, fandom hasn’t quite known what to do with the picture in these early days: some of trashed it as theatrical blasphemy while others seem to ‘dig the vibe’ that cast and crew tried to minimally do something different within the wider Predator universe. At this juncture, I’m inclined to agree with what I heard over on a Film Threat bit wherein they suggested Badlands works better as a non-Predator movie than it does a genuine entry. As a space adventure movie, it works quite well – Genna is a site to behold with these massive flesh-eating tree snakes, fields of razor-sharp glass, acid-spitting snakes, and some exploding worms – but as a true addition to the whole hunter/prey formula? Well … some of this stuff gets handled poorly, so … consider me unconvinced.
Recommended.
Like others, I had a good degree of fun with Predator: Badlands (2025) but only when I took it as something other than a Predator film, which this most decidedly was not. Demystifying some of what makes these hunters unique is dangerous, and personifying them is even wrose. Some of the Weiland-Yutani stuff seemed like a way to cop-out doing anything original with the second half – haven’t we already seen that company doing this sort of thing enough? – and I wasn’t all that much thrilled with the army of synthetics trying to pose any real threat to a Predator (for Pete’s sake). Independent of the wider universe, Badlands had some prospects going for it. Let’s just say that Trachtenberg clearly had some issues with coloring inside the lines.
In the interests of fairness, I’m beholden to no one for this review of Predator: Badlands (2025) as I viewed the film entirely of my own accord.
-- EZ
Recommended.
Like others, I had a good degree of fun with Predator: Badlands (2025) but only when I took it as something other than a Predator film, which this most decidedly was not. Demystifying some of what makes these hunters unique is dangerous, and personifying them is even wrose. Some of the Weiland-Yutani stuff seemed like a way to cop-out doing anything original with the second half – haven’t we already seen that company doing this sort of thing enough? – and I wasn’t all that much thrilled with the army of synthetics trying to pose any real threat to a Predator (for Pete’s sake). Independent of the wider universe, Badlands had some prospects going for it. Let’s just say that Trachtenberg clearly had some issues with coloring inside the lines.
In the interests of fairness, I’m beholden to no one for this review of Predator: Badlands (2025) as I viewed the film entirely of my own accord.
-- EZ
RSS Feed