Predator: Badlands (2025) | Movie Review

Dan Trachtenberg just flipped one of cinema's most brutal franchises on its head. After proving himself with Prey, he returns to shatter expectations with a film that dares to ask what happens when you hand the spotlight to the monster itself.

This is not another group of commandos getting picked off one by one. This is not Arnold flexing his way through a rainforest. Badlands transforms the Yautja from bloodthirsty villain to struggling underdog, and somehow it works.

What makes this review essential reading is simple: this film challenges every assumption audiences have carried for nearly four decades. If you walked into the theater expecting another humans-versus-alien survival story, you already lost.

This is a character study disguised as a blockbuster, a science fiction Western wrapped in the skin of an action film. The franchise needed this risk. Trachtenberg built something that stands alone while respecting franchise DNA.

The story centers on Dek, a young Yautja outcast who's basically the runt of his clan. His father nearly kills him for being weak. Rather than accept defeat, Dek flees to Genna, known across the galaxy as the Death Planet.

His mission: hunt down a legendary creature no Predator has ever defeated and bring its skull home as proof of worth. Everything from the plants to the atmosphere wants him dead. Survival alone seems impossible.

On Genna, Dek encounters Thia, a Weyland-Yutani synthetic who's been severed in half and left for scrap. She's sarcastic, practical, and desperate to find her legs. They strike an unlikely partnership that changes both of them.

The film explores what happens when a culture built on violence and dominance meets the concept of empathy. Dek slowly learns that survival isn't just about being the strongest. Thia learns that tools and logic can't solve everything.

Trachtenberg confirmed that Badlands is the first Predator film to draw heavy inspiration from the expanded comic universe. Marvel's Predator: Black, White & Blood series and Predator Kills the Marvel Universe both influenced how the film depicts Yautja culture beyond simple hunting.

The film also pulls from Dark Horse's original Predator runs, particularly stories about Yautja rituals and coming-of-age trials. The concept of a runt Predator seeking validation mirrors themes found in Predator: Prey to the Heavens and similar tales that humanized the hunters.

What works here is restraint. Trachtenberg takes the spirit of those stories and translates them into something cinematic. The comics provide texture without dictating structure. Longtime readers will catch references, but newcomers won't feel lost.

Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi delivers a breakthrough performance as Dek, buried under layers of prosthetics and practical effects. Every movement feels deliberate. The physicality conveys emotion without dialogue. This is someone fighting to prove he belongs, not just another killing machine.

Elle Fanning plays dual roles as Thia and her twin synthetic sister Tessa. Thia is the heart of the film, sarcastic and sharp-tongued even when dragging herself across hostile terrain. Her chemistry with Dek is bizarre yet compelling through shared survival.

Tessa serves as a foil, colder and more obedient to corporate orders. Fanning shifts between them effortlessly. The contrast highlights how much choice matters, even for beings designed to follow commands.

Genna is a visual marvel. The cinematography captures sweeping vistas of crimson deserts, bioluminescent jungles, and jagged rock formations that stretch toward alien skies. Every frame emphasizes scale, with Dek appearing small against massive landscapes that reinforce his outsider status.

The film uses practical effects wherever possible. Dek's armor, weapons, and injuries feel tactile. When he fights, you feel the impact. The CGI integrates well for larger creatures, though some sequences lean too heavily on digital effects during the final confrontation.

Trachtenberg's decision to shoot in IMAX pays off. The thermal vision sequences return with updated clarity. The color grading shifts between cold blues and warm reds depending on emotional tone, making every frame purposeful.

The opening establishes Dek's brutal homeworld within minutes. His father's rejection happens fast with no drawn-out exposition. The crash landing on Genna introduces planetary dangers efficiently through carnivorous plants, poisonous air pockets, and shifting terrain that kills without warning.

The first encounter with Thia is played for dark comedy. She's dragging herself across the ground, cursing the universe, when Dek stumbles upon her. Their negotiation is tense and funny, establishing the dynamic that carries everything forward.

The mid-section focuses on varied skirmishes. Dek fights hostile wildlife, scavengers, and rival Predators. Each fight teaches him something new as Thia's advice changes his tactics from mindless warrior to strategic hunter.

The third act shifts when corporate interference escalates. Tessa arrives with synthetics, complicating everything. The final battle delivers spectacle without abandoning character. The ending suggests growth over glory with a quiet moment that speaks louder than explosions.

The script moves. At 107 minutes, Badlands never drags. Quiet moments between action sequences allow characters to develop naturally. Conversations matter as Thia challenges Dek's worldview without preaching, and Dek questions his upbringing without melodrama.

The pacing stumbles slightly when the film introduces too many side threats. A sequence involving rival Predators feels redundant and could have been trimmed without losing impact. Otherwise, the rhythm holds strong.

What elevates the narrative is thematic consistency. Every scene reinforces the central question: what defines strength? The film shows you through action rather than spelling it out, making the message land harder through restraint.

Sarah Schachner's score avoids obvious callbacks to Alan Silvestri's original theme. Percussive elements mirror Yautja culture while strings underscore emotional beats. The music supports without overwhelming, though it lacks a memorable motif that lingers after credits roll.

The sound design excels. The Predator's signature clicking mandibles return sharper and more varied. Weapon effects hit with weight, especially the plasma caster in IMAX. The planet hums with ambient noise that keeps tension high.

Silence is used strategically to amplify sudden violence. When action explodes, it hits harder because the film knows when to hold back. The audio mix balances dialogue, effects, and score without muddying any element.

Predator: Badlands earns its place as one of the franchise's boldest entries. Trachtenberg's gamble on centering a Predator protagonist pays off because character matters more than carnage. Dek's journey resonates through genuine emotional growth.

This is a story about finding worth beyond violence, about choosing connection over conquest. For a franchise built on brutality, that's revolutionary. The action delivers, the world-building expands, and the performances surprise.

Is it perfect? No. The score could be stronger, some CGI feels overused, and certain sequences drag. But these flaws don't sink the experience. Badlands proves the franchise still has stories worth telling when filmmakers take risks.

If you've been waiting for evolution beyond survival horror, this is it. Badlands respects its roots while planting seeds for something new. Just don't expect a Schwarzenegger cameo.

Predator: Badlands (2025) is streaming exclusively on Hulu in U.S. and Disney+ internationally. It's also available for digital rental and purchase through Amazon Prime Video, Apple TV, Google Play Movies and YouTube. A 4K UHD Blu-ray with bonus featurettes and behind-the-scenes content is expected later this year for collectors.