Summary

The Predator franchise has had one of the most volatile lifecycles in sci-fi history. From the untouchable 1987 classic to the muddled crossover attempts of the 2000s, the Yautja have seen it all. But in 2025, under the stewardship of director Dan Trachtenberg, the franchise has not just survived. It has evolved.

Before we dive into the latest installment, let’s look at the road that led us here.

The Road to Badlands: A Franchise Retrospective

The modern era of Predator really began to turn a corner after the stumble of 2018’s The Predator. That film, directed by Shane Black, attempted to hybridize MCU-style humor with 80s grit, but ultimately failed to land with critics or fans, bogging itself down in convoluted lore about “super predators.”

Then came the resurgence. Prey (2022) stripped the franchise back to its bones. Set in 1719, it pitted a Comanche warrior against a feral Predator. It was visceral, beautiful, and proved that less is often more. It restored the dignity of the hunter.

Earlier this year, we were treated to Predator: Killer of Killers (2025), an animated anthology that surprised everyone. With a 95% approval rating, it used the medium of animation to tell stories across Vikings, Samurai, and WWII eras that live-action budgets would never allow. It was a love letter to the lore, setting the stage for Trachtenberg’s return to live action.

Now, we have Predator: Badlands.

Predator: Badlands – The VirtualUrth Review

If Prey was about fear, Badlands is about empathy. In a bold franchise-first move, the film flips the script completely, placing a Predator named “Dek” as the main protagonist. Set in the distant future on a hostile planet called Genna, the film follows Dek, a “runt” by Yautja standards, who is exiled and must hunt a legendary beast to prove his worth. Along the way, he forms an unlikely alliance with Thia (Elle Fanning), a Weyland-Yutani synthetic.

Overall Analysis

Predator: Badlands is a propulsive, bizarre, and weirdly inspirational sci-fi adventure. It takes the risk of humanizing a monster without removing his fangs. While it lacks the pure horror tension of the 1987 original (it’s hard to be scared of the guy you are rooting for), it makes up for it with world-building and heart. It plays more like a darker Avatar or a violent space-western than a traditional slasher. It revitalizes the lore by showing us the Yautja not as unknowable gods, but as individuals with social hierarchies and flaws.

Acting

The heavy lifting here is done by Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi, who provides the motion capture and physical performance for Dek. Despite having no dialogue, he manages to convey frustration, pride, and curiosity through body language alone. It is a masterclass in creature performance.

Elle Fanning is the perfect counterweight as Thia. Playing an android allows her to bring a “matter-of-fact” innocence to the violence. Her chemistry with a giant alien prop is surprisingly genuine, anchoring the film’s emotional core.

Story

The plot is the film’s simplest element, which is both a strength and a weakness. The “outcast proves themself” trope is as old as time, and the narrative beats are somewhat predictable. However, the context is fresh. Seeing the universe through the Predator’s HUD, understanding their code of honor from the inside, and watching them navigate a planet where everything (plants included) wants to kill them, keeps the simple story engaging.

Music

The score, a collaboration between Sarah Schachner (returning from Prey) and Benjamin Wallfisch, is excellent. Schachner’s primal, scratchy strings return, grounding the alien setting in something tactile and earthly, while Wallfisch adds a sweeping, orchestral scale that fits the futuristic, space-opera setting. It drives the action without overwhelming it.

Directing

Dan Trachtenberg has cemented himself as the savior of this franchise. His direction is confident and clear. He understands that action scenes need geography so we always know where Dek is in relation to the threat. His decision to shift perspective was a massive gamble that could have turned the Predator into a joke, but Trachtenberg treats the material with such sincerity that it works. He balances the fan-service (cool gadgets, lore nods) with a story that stands on its own.

Cinematography

Cinematographer Jeff Cutter returns to capture the planet Genna, and it looks stunning. The film moves away from the claustrophobic forests of Earth to vast, alien vistas. The use of color, including vibrant purples and harsh oranges, distinguishes this planet from anything we’ve seen in the series. The creature design for the local wildlife is terrifying, and the camera captures the brutality of the fights with a steady, unblinking gaze.

VirtualUrth Scorecard