MLWBD Movie Reviews – Predator: Badlands Review
A Thrilling, Wildly Inventive, Genre-Smashing Adventure That Rewrites What a Predator Movie Can Be
Few film franchises have undergone as dramatic and unexpected a reinvention as the storied Predator series. Born from the testosterone-soaked action cinema of the 1980s, the original film remains a gold standard of creature-feature perfection—a tight, muscular blend of horror, survivalism, and sci-fi adrenaline. For decades, every attempt to capture that lightning again has leaned into the same formula: a team of hardened warriors is hunted, one by one, by the galaxy’s most ruthless killer. It’s simple, primal, and—when done right—spectacular.
But in recent years, filmmaker Dan Trachtenberg has taken hold of the franchise with an energy that borders on gleeful chaos. His 2022 film Prey brought the Predator mythos back to life with astonishing freshness, pitting the iconic hunter against a Comanche warrior in a stripped-down, visceral survival tale praised by critics and fans alike. Then Trachtenberg doubled down with the animated anthology Killer of Killers, an exuberant blast of creative storytelling that thrust the creature into battles with Vikings, samurai, and WWII pilots.
Now comes Trachtenberg’s boldest gamble yet: a Predator film in which the Predator is the hero, the emotional core, and the beating heart of the story. Predator: Badlands is the biggest swing this franchise has ever taken—an audacious, borderline-insane high-concept film that somehow manages to be both deeply affectionate toward the lore and wildly irreverent about everything we thought we knew.
It’s a film that asks:
What if the killer became the underdog?
What if the monster became the warrior we root for?
What if a Predator could carry a character arc?
In lesser hands, the idea might have collapsed under its own ambition. But Trachtenberg, with his clear reverence for both sci-fi pulp and Predator mythology, makes Badlands a raucous, heartfelt, visually bombastic odyssey that stands proudly as the most fun Predator film since the original.
This is mlwbd movie reviews at its absolute best: a look at a movie that reinvents an icon and delivers two hours of unfiltered sci-fi delight.
A New Kind of Predator Story
The film begins not on Earth, but on the Predator homeworld—Yautja Prime—a volcanic, brutalist landscape drenched in harsh reds and oppressive shadows. Here we meet Dek, played by Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi, a young Yautja who is, by his species’ standards, a bit of a runt. Still towering over humans at eight feet tall and loaded with technology, Dek is nevertheless dismissed by his father, who embodies the worst kind of warrior elitism.
Dek is sent to the death-planet of Badlands as part of a coming-of-age trial. His mission: kill the unkillable Kalisk, a leviathan that devours everything in its path. If Dek succeeds, he returns a warrior. If he fails, he dies alone among the bones of thousands before him.
This setup is pure pulp—reminiscent of sci-fi paperbacks from the 1960s and 70s—and Trachtenberg leans into that aesthetic beautifully. The film’s environments are rich, colourful, and saturated with imagination. Badlands is a place where the grass can stab you, the sky tries to crush you, and every organism’s singular goal is consumption.
It’s exhilarating, dangerous, and perversely fun.
A Predator With a Personality—And A Soul
For the first time in franchise history, the Predator protagonist speaks—in grunts, clicks, and snarls translated through subtitles. This could have been disastrous. Instead, it gives Dek a depth and emotional complexity the series has never attempted before.
Dek is not a stoic, unstoppable killer. He is insecure, determined, and occasionally funny—not because he is made into a joke, but because Trachtenberg lets us see the gulf between how Dek sees himself and how others see him. It’s a surprisingly moving performance, rendered through physical acting, body language, and carefully moderated vocalisations.
The decision to give the Predator an arc—to show fear, frustration, camaraderie, and even tenderness—sounds sacrilegious. But Trachtenberg isn’t dismantling the mythology; he’s expanding it. For decades, we’ve understood Predators only as hunters. Badlands reveals something richer: they are also shaped by expectation, pressure, and hierarchy. Dek becomes the first Predator audiences are meant to identify with, and the gamble pays off.
The Android Partner You Didn’t Know You Needed
Dek’s mission takes an unexpected turn when he meets a Weyland-Yutani synthetic, played by Elle Fanning. Or rather, half of her.
Literally.
Her legs have been ripped off by the Kalisk, and she drags herself across the toxic soil with unfazed politeness. What should have been laughable becomes endearing. Her bright, chipper optimism collides perfectly with Dek’s brooding energy, and their dynamic is one of the film’s greatest triumphs. She is talkative and quirky; he is terse and serious. She analyzes everything with scientific curiosity; he grunts through problem-solving like a disgruntled teenager.
Fanning’s performance is a standout—clever, vulnerable, and often hilarious. The conceit of her legs acting independently (yes, they fight on their own) is exactly the kind of playful, imaginative touch that makes Badlands feel like a love letter to sci-fi fans.
Before long, the duo becomes a trio when a monkey-like blue alien joins them—a mischievous creature that acts as both comic relief and emotional glue. The rag-tag vibe calls to mind Guardians of the Galaxy, but filtered through the gritty, blood-spattered lens of the Predator universe.
A Fresh Tone With the Franchise’s Hard Edges Intact
Hardcore Predator purists may balk at the film’s tonal shift. The franchise’s trademark dread and muscle-bound bravado are replaced with humor, heart, and high adventure. Some might accuse the film of softening the Predator, but that criticism misses the point.
Trachtenberg isn’t de-powering the creature; he’s re-contextualising him.
Instead of hunter-vs-hunted, we get a compelling underdog story. Instead of nihilistic slaughter, we get a hero’s journey. Instead of the Predator as implacable doom, we see him as a warrior shaped by culture, expectation, and personal failure.
And make no mistake: the film is still violently fun. The kill-count is massive—but thanks to android blood being white, Badlands dodges the ratings board and earns a 12A without neutering the carnage. The action sequences are energetic, often hilarious, and always inventive. Fans of classic sci-fi weaponry will particularly lose their minds over a sequence involving the famous pulse rifle from Aliens, used with a wink that signals deep affection for genre history.
A Geek’s Paradise of Visual Spectacle
Though the film doesn’t reach the visual transcendence of James Cameron’s Avatar films, it still brims with creativity. The landscapes of Badlands feel alive—sometimes too alive. Deadly plants, floating spores, shape-shifting predators, and bubbling acid pits fill the screen with constant danger.
Trachtenberg crafts every confrontation as both an action sequence and a survival puzzle. Dek and his companions must constantly evolve their strategies, learning the rules of the planet like players in an elaborate video game. This creates a sense of progression rare in sci-fi action films. Every fight teaches the characters something new—and every victory feels earned.
The CGI creatures are occasionally weightless, but the film’s charm overrides these minor shortcomings. The creature design is wildly varied, embracing a campy, retro-futuristic aesthetic that feels lovingly lifted from the golden age of pulp sci-fi. These aren’t elegant, majestic beasts—they’re gory, gooey, bizarre horrors that look like the nightmares of an over-caffeinated illustrator.
And that’s precisely the point.
Humour, Heart, and Earnestness in a Franchise Not Known for Either
To the shock of many, Predator: Badlands has—dare we say it—heart.
The relationship between Dek and his synthetic partner forms the emotional backbone of the film. Their mutual dependence, their gradual respect, and their shared determination to survive transform Badlands from mere spectacle into something resonant.
There are shades of Guardians of the Galaxy here, but also The Iron Giant and Edge of Tomorrow. Trachtenberg’s gift is blending genre elements without ever losing sight of character. He understands that investment in spectacle relies on investment in personality, and Badlands succeeds because it makes us care.
This emotional undercurrent becomes especially powerful in the final act, where Dek confronts the Kalisk. The beast is enormous, terrifying, and rendered with magnificent detail. But the confrontation is not just physical—it is psychological. Dek is not merely fighting a monster; he is fighting the expectations of his species, the dismissal of his father, and his own crippling self-doubt.
When he rises above all three, it’s genuinely triumphant.
A Celebration of What Genre Cinema Can Be
Trachtenberg’s work on the Predator franchise marks one of the most exciting creative renaissances in modern science-fiction cinema. Rather than being constrained by canon, he treats the lore as an endless well of possibility. Badlands feels like a playground where every sci-fi trope—from robot companions to alien wildlife to monstrous boss fights—is embraced with childlike enthusiasm.
It’s rare to see a film that is so unabashedly fun. Even rarer to see one that reinvents a decades-old character without betraying its essence.
Badlands manages to be:
- a blistering action spectacle
- a buddy-comedy
- a coming-of-age story
- a space opera
- a creature-feature
- and a heartfelt misfit adventure
—all at once.
That blend shouldn’t work. And yet it does, magnificently.
Final Verdict: The Most Fun Predator Film Since the Original
Predator: Badlands is an amped-up rock concert of a movie—loud, exhilarating, messy in the best ways, and unashamedly earnest. It embraces the absurdity of its concept and commits so fully that resistance becomes futile. If you can accept the paradigm shift of a Predator hero, what unfolds is one of the most entertaining sci-fi films in years.
Rating: ★★★★☆ (4/5)
A wildly inventive, deeply affectionate reinvention of an 80s icon—bursting with heart, humour, and unrestrained imagination.