Predator: Bandlands Review

Welcome to Genna, the hostile planet in the latest entry in the Predator franchise. Leave it to Dan Trachtenberg to flip the formula inside out again — he once more both honours and reimagines the mythology of one of cinema’s most iconic monsters.

Predator: Badlands surpasses the generic format of alien hunter fare, becoming a textured sci-fi horror adventure that asks who you are to the world when the world says you’re nothing.

We meet Dek first, our outcast Yautja warrior (Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi), and immediately receive his exceptional fighting style. Taught to use the world around him — a runt in his species but sharp of mind — he sets out to prove his worth after being called weak by his father. The fight sequences are phenomenally outrageous in the best way: from the opening one-on-one tussle between Dek and his brother to the severed-limb combat of androids and the stunning monster battles that introduce new creatures to the Predator mythos. The non-stop action never fails to entertain.

The monster design for the apex predators is pure, delightful nightmare fuel — from the warped, vine-like fauna of the forest to the chitinous “tree bug,” and finally the Kalisk, Dek’s ultimate quarry. When a fight makes you wince, when a body hits the ground and you hear it, when you remember these beasts are biological forces of nature — that’s when the choreography stays with you. Badlands gives us those moments, even amid the larger-than-life VFX.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a modern action blockbuster without the “tough-guy-meets-cute-creature” trope. Enter Bud, a big-eyed, mischievous native species who softens the edges of our brutal warrior and offers a strange sense of humanity to Thia (Elle Fanning), an off-world synth designed to study the fauna of Genna. Against all odds, it works — and Bud becomes a genuine delight.

The soundscape complements the violence and the dread beautifully. Composer Sarah Schachner, alongside Benjamin Wallfisch, crafts a score of low drums, alien choral textures, and sudden silences before impact. The Yautja vocalizations are intentionally dissonant to the human ear, while the percussive score amplifies their otherworldliness.

Minor plot-line spoilers ahead

Schuster-Koloamatangi doesn’t speak often, but when he does, it matters. He plays Dek with a potent mix of rage, pride, vulnerability, and isolation — the perfect match for a creature raised to kill but forced to question what family and strength truly mean.

Fanning is stunning in dual roles as Thia and her sister-android Tessa, providing the emotional anchor the film needs. The duality of reason and emotion lives between them: Thia, the more human, has developed what might be called love — though compassion is more accurate — while Tessa serves the cold objective of satisfying MU/TH/UR’s corporate will. Fanning differentiates them beautifully; Thia is curious, endearing, and deeply empathetic, while Tessa is calculating, unsettling, and quietly monstrous.

Duality becomes the richest vein in Badlands — mirrored selves, hunter and hunted, outcast and warrior, biological and found family. Thia and Tessa are literal replicas; Dek’s dynamic with his father and brother reflects another dual edge: the loyalty he’s expected to uphold versus the self he must define. The film asks, Do you accept your family because blood commands it, or because love earns it? When Thia tells Dek, “I could survive on my own. But why would I want to survive on my own?” — the answer becomes the emotional core of the film.

The Collection of Trophies in Dek's brother's ship.

Here’s where Badlands plays big: by placing Weyland-Yutani Corporation at the edges of its world, the film bridges the Alien and Predator mythologies more cohesively than ever before. There are no humans here — only synths, bio-weapons, and androids financed by Weyland. Seeds are planted not only for future stories, but for a richer understanding of the Predator universe itself.

For fans of both franchises, this is thrilling territory. The Yautja are no longer just hunters on Earth; they’re part of a wider galactic ecology — one of corporate exploitation, evolutionary terror, and existential reckoning. One wouldn’t be wrong to walk out thinking this could redefine the future of both Alien and Predator lore.

Verdict: ★★★★½

Predator: Badlands is a thrilling, ambitious expansion of a franchise that could have easily leaned on nostalgia and safe beats. Instead, it dares to give the hunter vulnerability, lets the monster seek redemption, and invites an alien road trip with an android companion and a tiny, gremlin-like creature.

It’s not flawless — the PG-13 rating occasionally dulls the edge, and the scale sometimes loses the primal intimacy of earlier entries — but the ambition, heart, and thematic layering make it one of the year’s standout sci-fi films.

If you’re in it for spectacle, you’ll get your fill. If you’re here for the ideas — identity, family, duality, becoming hero from outcast — there’s substance beneath the claws. And if you’re a lore-hound eager for the Alien–Predator universe to evolve, buckle up: a new chapter just opened.