Predator: Killer Among Killers (2025)

Score: 4.5 / 5

As an only partial-fan of the Predator franchise, I initially had no intention of seeing a direct-to-streaming animated film under the title. The Hulu feature -- with Disney expanding its entertainment monopoly to include Alien as well, though I haven't yet seen Alien: Earth -- piqued my interest when, upon closer inspection, I learned that Dan Trachtenberg was at the helm. To paraphrase myself vis a vis his other franchise entry this year, Predator: Badlands, Trachtenberg is the only reason this franchise works in my mind, and I'll watch anything the man creates. Since 10 Cloverfield Lane, he's more than earned his place in my esteem. 

Building on the franchise in increasingly fascinating ways, Trachtenberg here seems to take his brilliant impetus in Prey to a more extreme degree. Killer Among Killers is an anthology film, episodically exploring Yautja hunters as they visit various populations on Earth, stalking and slaying human warriors for sport in times of terrestrial trial and violence. It's a wonderful fleshing-out of the premise of the franchise that it's never quite embraced; moreover, it combines several different time periods and locations into one film, so that by its end you feel a certain epic scope to the whole thing.

Which says a lot about an animated film. The Third Floor, the animation company behind this artistry, has a long history of fantasy, sci-fi, and action films, especially for superheroes and monsters (like the MCU and Godzilla, respectively). Here, they accomplish the unlikely in winning over my attention and my heart with gorgeous animation that rivals most other 2D material out there. More importantly, and likely due in no small part to Trachtenberg's style, the film justifies itself as animation through its determination to "film" its action in ways that wouldn't be normal in a live-action feature. It would be possible, of course, especially in these days of CGI, but even the cinematography of this -- the framing, I suppose, fluid and shot-specific as if filmed practically -- draws attention to its own impossibility. In this way, the film seems to be reaching out to us skeptical viewers, encouraging us that this medium was the only feasible way to do this project.

And it works! After Prey was released three years ago, I hoped more would be made in the vein of Assassin's Creed, meaning applying the same concept to other human cultures across time and space. And what a concept: seemingly drawn to people in the midst of tension and violence, a monstrous Yautja hunter materializes, studying its prey while invisible, and gradually working up to claim their heads. Or, rather, their skulls and spines, which they tend to rip from corpses of lesser predators before spraying with some kind of acid to "clean" their trophies. Flesh isn't the goal here so much as pride.

In "The Shield," first of the three episodes, Viking warlord Ursa leads a campaign against a rival who killed her father. Not unlike in The Northman, she has sworn to avenge her father, just as she forces her son to do for her. At her moment of reckoning -- with no small amount of disdain from her nemesis about her gender -- an enormous, hulking Yautja appears, and a riveting, bloody battle ensues across a frozen lake. Second, "The Sword" is a mostly nonverbal story of ninja brothers, battling each other for succession under the watchful, abusive eye of their samurai father. The underdog, Kenji, returns years later for revenge on his brother, when a lithe Yautja begins grappling with them both. Third, "The Bullet" follows Latino fighter pilot Torres for the US Navy in World War II who discovers and battles an airborne Yautja destroying planes over North Africa. All three episodes are rigorously paced and immaculately conceived, less about worldbuilding than about building character and theme through action. Each episode features a main character whose search for validation, acknowledgement, and/or vengeance leads them to victory, yet they also undergo grievous loss before defeating their hunters by their resourcefulness, quick-thinking, and sheer guts. It's all very classical, actually.

And that's not all! There's a final, fourth episode of the film that ties all three together: some time after each encounter, the heroes are abducted by the Yautja in ships that leave crop circles. It's this kind of cutesy nod that really elevates the material to a certain metafictional sensibility. Ursa, Kenji, and Torres find themselves brought to a Yautja arena and forced to fight each other to the death. Hence the title, this will show the Yautja what kind of human is most dangerous and therefore worthy prey. Or, perhaps, the Yautja simply like gladiatorial entertainment so much that this arena is more of a victory lap. Lorded over by what Ursa calls their "Grendel King," the Yautja want to see blood. Much like us, in fact, which Trachtenberg knows full well. I cannot underscore enough how bloody this film is; not wholly unlike Zemeckis's Beowulf, this film surprises with its sheer brutality. And not just when the aliens appear! The human-against-human fight scenes are inventive and gritty, hypnotic in their flair while upsetting in their aggressive ferocity. I said 2D earlier, but there is a distinct 3D approach to the visuals here, and the filmmakers utilize that best when letting blood splatter across the boundaries between prey and predator: on the sheet of ice, on a papery screen, on a plane window.

Each episode is beautifully realized, especially in their attention to accents and/or language. Each story is perfectly self-contained narratively and thematically, and would work just as well without the alien presence. Yet when the beastie boys inevitably reveal themselves, they function as a necessary extension -- a logical intensifier, if you will -- of the primary thematic concern for their chosen hero to continue to battle. And then, when they're all thrown together in the finale, the language barrier between them becomes a much-needed source of light comedy before the gauntlets come off. There are plenty of nods, especially in this last bit, to the rest of the franchise (I think I counted at least one significant reference to each of the previous films in the franchise, including a certain French pistol), and its final shots of other Yautja-killers including Naru, Mike, and Dutch suggest that our heroes may yet return again. If the ominous and bleak ending of this film is any indication, the survivors will need all the help they can get!

Predator: Badlands (2025)

Score: 4 / 5

I was never a big fan of the Predator series, mostly because action flicks aren't to my taste. Knowing that Dan Trachtenberg was continuing his streak in the franchise, however, led me to watch all the damn movies. And I was right; the first has its notable plot and memorable imagery, and the second I actually quite liked. The third makes its lore a bit too explicit, but its casting makes for a fun time; the fourth similarly has a fabulous cast, but its writing and direction doubles down on the franchise's weakest points for no clear reason. When Trachtenberg released Prey three years ago, I was only able to see it on Hulu, and I was amazed. Beautiful and gritty and violent and smart, not to mention culturally fascinating while branching out the lore in exciting new ways, the film remains the high point of the franchise for me. 

Badlands is Trachtenberg's second outing in this franchise, and again he proves his astonishing ability to think outside the box of familiar territory and deliver something substantially fresh and innovative. Fans of the franchise will, doubtless, decry it for being "woke" or some such drivel; it seems any time a female becomes a main character in an action film that's the result from a vocal subset of obnoxious white men. And while there is tons of action to be had here, this entry is notable for its plot structure, which is more adventure than action. Here, we're treated to a Star Wars-like (or Star Trek, perhaps, especially with the Klingon comparison, though I'm not familiar enough with that franchise) excursion to a wonderfully realized alien world known in-universe as one of the most dangerous habitable planets. And, even apart from the considerable visual artistry that makes this film an eye-popping pleasure on a big screen, Trachtenberg and writer Patrick Aison have crafted a meticulously plotted screenplay that hinges on the nature of what makes humans human. Even though there are no humans in the film, it's a fascinating and thrilling ride that doesn't skimp on the violence or marginal scares while ratcheting up emotional tension the franchise has long failed to master.

I'll interject here with some geeky personal admiration. I remember an interview in which Trachtenberg claimed, while making Prey and his subsequent Predator films, that he was inspired by various kinds of filmmakers like Sergio Leone and Terrence Malick. And while I can certainly see that at work in these movies, it goes to show how intricately intertextual genre films so often are, and how liberally well-read quality filmmakers have to be to work in these genre films. So much of the Predator vibe, in general, is just about action and badassery. But when Trachtenberg steps in with these kinds of ideas and muses, he makes the stories as much about the nature of nature, and how sentient beings can/do/do not exist well in such environments, as about the nature of killers. That is so brilliant and refreshing in our age of endless sequels and reboots that rehash original ingredients without so much as care for new inspiration. Trachtenberg did this with 10 Cloverfield Lane as well: a film that works wonderfully as a psychological thriller between two terrifying people, and then reveals its shocking and weird place in what we didn't even know was a burgeoning franchise.

I won't labor in retelling the plot, because there's not a ton. Suffice it to say that this is -- to my admittedly recent knowledge -- the first time a titular Predator is the main character of one of these movies. And he's fabulous. Played with impressive physicality by Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi, protagonist Dek is a Yautja (the actual Predator species) who is called a runt. He's shorter and less accomplished than his own brother, much to the chagrin of his resentful and dismissive father. Preparing for a suicide mission to prove himself on the "death planet" Genna -- I wonder if this is a corruption of the hellish place Gehenna near Jerusalem -- his father suddenly orders his brother to kill him. Refusing, the brother sends Dek to space, but not before Dek witnesses his father summarily execute his kin. Thus, the story takes on the mythic proportions of a hero's revenge against a wicked clan leader.

His goal is to slay a Kalisk, supposedly unkillable, and return its skull to his father, as their culture deems their purpose to be. Yet once on Genna, he must first survive. A gauntlet of biological horrors, the planet is so hostile to Dek's presence that he gets a severe beating after his crash-landing. Thankfully, he soon encounters Thia, an android (like Ash in Alien), who helps him navigate the terrain and learn how to find the Kalisk. Elle Fanning plays Thia and her sister Tessa, who elsewhere plans to antagonize them; the dual role allows her lots of room for showcasing her considerable thespian skills. Not only can she be hilariously blunt as the only character who speaks English, but she can also be quite scary in her attempts to manipulate her way out of jams. She's legless, you see, from her own encounters on Genna, so Dek must carry her around like a humanoid backpack; it's outrageous and clever in equal doses. Genre movies so rarely laud actors with awards, and it's a real shame; Fanning unleashes her powers in a dazzling display of dynamism and insight and sheer fire-forged skill that should decorate her with many medals. 

While I've not yet seen the AvP flicks, and have no intention to, I appreciated the Weyland-Yutani Corporation subplot here, a clear connection to the Alien franchise. You know, I don't need crossovers between these IPs, but if the writers continue to hinge any connections as a problem of uber-capitalistic empires like this, then I'm all for it. While it's not the focus of this film, it does underscore the connection in what may be the most material way that we've yet seen. Thankfully, the film only uses that to excite the nerdy fans. Mass audiences are treated to the real feast of the film: the way it combines genres. Because for all my descriptors thus far here, I've yet to say that the entire midsection of this film is a delightful buddy adventure.

Thia and Dek collect a ragtag group of misfits to help them find and kill the Kalisk, and it's all very endearing and sweet. They discuss new meanings of words, like a heartwarming moment of Thia claiming Tessa as her sister after learning about the concept from Dek and his brother, and when Dek learns that emotions (the touchy-feely stuff real Predators eschew) not only help people become stronger but make success worth achieving. Through it all, moreover, Dek is never infantilized, feminized, or otherwise meaningfully different than a brutish, hulking warrior; the actor's amazing physical performance is often nonverbal, and he conveys essays of meaning with the subtlest of movements. For all the complaints I expect will be levelled at this film by dubious "alpha males," Dek remains one for the entire runtime, especially in his final battle against his father. And it goes a long way to show that a true alpha male isn't admirable because of superficial qualities of isolation, brusqueness, indifference and cruelty, or even violence. It's about thoughtful and caring leadership, integrity and perseverance, and resourcefulness cultivated from community-building.

Apparently Trachtenberg preceded this release with an animated feature on Hulu: Predator: Killer of Killers, which I'll eagerly be watching soon. My impression, based on its trailer, is that of separate vignettes of various times and places in Earth's history in which humans have clashed with Yautja hunters. We've already seen a jungle war a la Vietnam but in Central America, street fighting in downtown Los Angeles, the American frontier, and alien hunting grounds; it looks like we'll expand into Viking and samurai historical settings soon enough, and that's even more brilliant. With Trachtenberg at the helm, I have no doubt even an animated feature will satisfy me well. But there is little right now that can compare to the gorgeous visual effects of the films in live action, and if you get a chance to see this on a big screen, you've got to take that shot.

Prey (2022)

Score: 5 / 5

I can't believe this movie was dropped directly on Hulu. I'm not even really a fan of this franchise -- I've only ever seen the first Predator, and yeah it's an exciting time -- but this one looked pretty cool. Just a matter of minutes into streaming it, I got angry that I wasn't seeing it on a bigger screen and with surround sound. Jeff Cutter's cinematography makes most landscape shots look like paintings, and most action scenes feel as beautiful as a dance. Much as Predator was a streamlined action film 35 years ago, and in many ways established tropes of the genre, this film takes the genre to a level of high art. This is much like how Ridley Scott saved his Alien franchise in Prometheus: giving us more of the same material, but in a surprising way and with the most updated and sophisticated technology and aesthetic intent.

In a move of pure genius, the setting of this film takes us back to 1719, apparently to the first Predator alien to arrive on Earth and begin hunting. That kind of makes this a period piece, and it reminded me visually more than once of The Revenant in style, color palette, and even some content. For someone who doesn't know the franchise well, I had to learn quickly some of the elements of interest, such as that the Predator uses somewhat more rustic versions of its typical weapons in other installments. But those details are mostly Easter eggs for the fans; the movie works brilliantly for newcomers as well! The Predator, we learn quickly enough, is much more advanced technologically than the Native Americans in the great plains that populate the setting of Prey; it is also very strong and fast and hunts living organisms for sport, often skinning or beheading them for trophies. We see this is how it treats a snake, a wolf, and even a bear. It seems to want the most dangerous game it can find.

Enter Naru (Amber Midthunder), a young Comanche warrior who hunts like the men in her tribe despite their teasing and ostracism. Her brother Taabe (Dakota Beavers) is a bit more sympathetic but sometimes might be embarrassed by his sister upsetting the applecart. But Naru knows there is something monstrous stalking their tribe and tries to warn them, from the moment she sees the strange lights of its ship floating through a cloud bank. They first suspect a mountain lion and hunt it; after a tense and violent confrontation, Taabe kills it and returns to the village a hero. Naru knows more is going on when she discovers a herd of bison that have been skinned; a grizzly then chases her down to a riverbed. It's all terrifying and realistic (I told you this reminded me a bit of The Revenant, right?) and then, BAM -- enter the Predator.

I rather wish we hadn't seen several snippets by this point of the alien landing, hunting, prepping its weapons. While they are interesting shots, they take away so much from the realism of the film to this point and they take away the horror of the unseen/unknown. Granted, the Predator uses high-tech camouflage that basically makes it invisible, but I think the first half of the film would be much more effective if Naru had suspicions but no real proof, like us, until the Predator's reveal during the grizzly attack. It's such an effective scene already, and I wanted it to be as scary as it was awesome. The bear gets distracted moments before chomping our heroine and fights something invisible until it gets lifted in the air, its blood pouring out onto the silhouette of the hulking alien. It's magnificent. And, of course, Naru immediately runs.

The rest of the film is, essentially, a series of chases as the Predator slaughters its way through the tribe, through fur trappers and traders, and ultimately singles out Naru as apparently its worthy opponent in combat. One of the most interesting and satisfying sequences in this film is when Naru is captured by the French voyageurs, who, we learn, were the sadistic predators that killed and skinned the bison. The film wants us to understand that the Predator isn't the only predator in play; sure, there are the lovely food chain nods to other apex predators like the wolf, bear, and puma, but man is a horrifying (and wasteful) predator in his own right. Then again, considering the unique title of this film, one wonders exactly who the prey in this situation are. Naru might just be capable of taking down the big bad; when its neon green blood spills, she all too readily paints her face with it.

I can't speak highly enough of this film. See it on the biggest screen with the best sound you can get. It's dazzlingly beautiful, thanks largely to the cinematographer's work and the direction by Dan Trachtenberg (10 Cloverfield Lane). The leading performance by Midthunder is nothing short of a stunning star turn. Its respect for Comanche culture and language is manifest in the full Comanche language version of the film also available on Hulu. Even for not much liking the franchise or knowing anything about it, this was one of the most surprising and entertaining movies I've seen lately. It elevates the adventure/action/horror/sci-fi shtick of the '80s and '90s and turns it into a vision, one that will surely continue to offer rewards on subsequent viewings. I can hardly wait to jump back in again!

10 Cloverfield Lane (2016)

Score: 4.5 / 5

Well, there it is. The franchise I never knew I wanted.

Cloverfield, in all its post-9/11 horrific glory, stole a bit of my heart way back eight years ago, but I never really thought it would become a franchise. It's a good solid flick on its own, deceptively simple and daringly, well, daring. I figured, if anything, a sequel would follow [REC]'s example and maybe just do a sister film, a comparison point with similar found-footage style camerawork and repeated themes. But after so many years -- and a fairly polarized audience, with horror fans either loving or hating it -- I don't think any of us saw this coming.

Going in, you need to know a couple things about 10 Cloverfield Lane. First: Don't even think about comparing it to its sister picture. Whereas Cloverfield took Blair Witch into breakneck big-scale horror territory, keeping close to the roots of its real-life horror in senseless, monstrous death and destruction in NYC, this new film instead plays on psychological horror in the vein of home invasion thrillers with a dash of post-apocalyptic spice. Most of the film takes place in a fallout bunker under a conspiracy theorist's rural house, where the owner has locked himself and two young people in out of fear that the outside world has come under biological attack.

The film unfolds fairly quickly, with wildly unpredictable beats and turns. I don't mean "unpredictable" in the sense that you don't know where it's going. It's a bleak enough film to know full well what will happen. But first-time director Dan Trachtenberg does some really amazing emotional work here, mirroring the intense and complex psyches of his characters in the pacing, cinematography, lighting, and editing; he focuses so intently on the people that it's easy to feel more claustrophobic that the film really is. It's a dazzling example of how a director can perform his job with integrity and bravery, undiluted by a previous film, and perfectly balance technique, spectacle, and honesty.

And the performances he captures are, if possible, even more astounding. John Goodman is electrifying as the bestial conspiracy theorist who locks in two helpless young people. In his nightmare-inducing (yes, I had nightmares last night) turn, Goodman is as surprising and vicious as Heath Ledger's Joker from The Dark Knight, completely insane yet making perfect sense, burning with his inner passions and concealing particularly insidious demons under his baleful visage. Matching him in energy and wit is Mary Elizabeth Winstead, a shining star of female power in a genre that often subjects such figures to pain, fear, and torment. Winstead carries the film, ceaselessly strong and smart, never sexualized or victimized, an action hero struggling - nay - demanding to be treated as such from the men both on screen and behind it. Her bright, wide eyes reveal far more of her character than her dialogue or even her action choreography, though she delivers in both those realms with admirable ferocity.

It's one of those rare films where every single element joins together in perfect harmony to create a transcendent experience, one that had me shrieking and laughing often at the same time. It's a taut thriller, to be sure, but one with unexpected humor and vast thematic implications. It's also one of those rare sequels that, to my mind, surpasses its predecessor in ways technical and emotional, and also as a result of its being so very different. I might also add that the pacing and overarching drama of the film feels distinctly mixed-genre: The first four-fifths of the film are a sort of home invasion/post-apocalyptic psychological thriller. The final fifth is something else entirely. It's even filmed very differently. Like how in the end of The Cabin in the Woods the thematic import of the film skyrockets into implausible chaos, the end of this film rapidly spirals into a frenzied fever dream of special effects and sci-fi violence. Before you say that's weird and doesn't make sense, I mean to assure you that it works. I don't know how, exactly, but it's not done over-sensationally; at least, not more so than the rest of the film. It fits, and it is profoundly effective in revealing the greater elements of chaos at work in the world of the film. It's operatic, it's enchanting, and by the end of the film, it feels strangely epic in intellectual scope.

But do we see the monster? You might be wondering if this film answers any of the questions posed by the first, and frustrated with the lack of overt monstrosity in the original film. I have an answer for you.

But first, a question: Why does it matter? Perhaps we never saw the huge monster in its entirety in Cloverfield, but doesn't that make it far more terrifying? We saw plenty of its offspring (or whatever they were). We saw all of the death and destruction it caused. I challenge you to go back and watch the news footage from 9/11. Isn't the whole point of horror in the last fifteen years that death is not predictable or just? That's the new face of horror. Terrorism. Biological warfare. Crumbling towers, alien invaders, undead armies, cataclysmic apocalypse. The age of seeing a specific monster (Dracula, the Blob, Michael Myers) is over; now it's religious extremists, political idealists, shadowy terrorist regimes. There's a reason the villains in last summer's continued spy sagas were called Rogue Nation and Spectre.

My answer: No. We don't see "the monster". We see several. We see a gun-toting, amoral conspiracy theorist and control freak who demands absolute power in his little microcosm of people he "saved", who is revealed to be exactly what we suspect from the beginning. We see an alien monster beast attacking our hero near the end. We see a giant flying alien/monster grab our hero and attempt to eat (?) her. We don't see "the monster"; there are many. Which is more horrifying? I couldn't say, though my nightmares were about a human, not a slimy monster with too many teeth. As the tagline says, monsters come in many forms.

I might also add that if you only want to see a movie because of its monster, that says far more about you than the movie. Selah.

IMDb: 10 Cloverfield Lane