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Yahoo
11-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘Predator: Killer of Killers' Review: Hulu's Awesomely Violent Animated Death Match Highlights the Full Potential of the Franchise
An awesomely violent and artfully staged piece of animated pulp, 'Predator: Killer of Killers' feels like a movie that was dreamed up by a couple of stoned teenage boys in a suburban basement one night during the summer of 1987, but this is the rare case where that feels like a good thing. A very good thing, even. Close your eyes and you can practically hear Dan Trachtenberg — whose impressive 'Prey' made him the de facto thought leader of the 'Predator' franchise — passing a miserable blunt to screenwriter and co-director Micho Robert Rutare as one of them asks 'Who would win in a fight: a Predator or a ninja? What about a Predator or a Viking?' These are some of the great questions of our time, and 'Killer of Killers' answers them with enough style and savagery to share a sweet little contact high with everyone who streams it. More from IndieWire Does 'Materialists' Satisfy as a Romance? Screen Talk Debates Celine Song's Film, Shares 'F1' First Reactions 'I Don't Understand You' Review: Nick Kroll and Andrew Rannells Kill It in Grisly Destination Rom-Com The project's charm lies in the fact that it doesn't try to do anything else. An anthology-like collection of death matches in which cinema's most toxically militaristic alien species hunts the greatest human warriors across our planet's history, 'Killer of Killers' is so mission-driven and self-possessed that it never feels the least bit like an elaborate teaser for Trachtenberg's forthcoming 'Badlands' (a theatrical release that will determine the continued viability of the 'Predator' franchise), even if it does a phenomenal job of convincing people to give a shit about the 'Yautja' again — or for the first time. All red meat and no gristle, 'Killer of Killers' leapfrogs through the centuries — with occasional flash-forwards into sci-fi territory — as if it were using the 'Assassin's Creed' games like a treasure map. The action starts on the shores of Valhalla circa 841 A.D., where a vengeance-obsessed valkyrie named Ursa (voiced by Lindsay LaVanchy) leads her son Anders on a raid to kill the barbarian king who ransacked her village when she was a child. 'Why do we fight?,' she asks the boy. 'Because our enemy still lives,' he replies. Locked into the siege like Timothée Chalamet at a Knicks playoff game in Indiana, the invisibility-cloaked Predator who's watching from the sidelines may have traveled hundreds of light years for a front-row seat to the carnage, but that sort of zero-sum ethos surely reminds him of home. The alien's plan is the same across the first three of the movie's four segments: Let the humans slaughter each other, and then ambush the last — and presumably strongest — warrior standing as a test of its own skill as a hunter. One second Ursa is standing triumphant over the corpse of her enemy, and the next her minions are screaming 'Grendel!' as the Predator starts ripping their spinal cords out of their backs and/or pulverizing their bodies into red mush. While those combat tests have a tendency to be wildly unfair (I'm not sure what a Predator would prove to itself by using a space-age shockwave gun to obliterate a guy holding a wooden spear, but maybe a red-blooded American man who shoots forest animals for sport could explain it to me), the Yautja also have a tendency of failing them in spectacular fashion, as it quickly becomes clear that people are still the most dangerous game. Contextualized as a duel between two different breeds of 'monster' (one being Ursa's bloodlust, and the other a demon from outer space), the battle that comprises much of the opening chapter is nothing less than nerd-ass shit par excellence. As in subsequent episodes, the movie's 'violence is unevolved' moral framing doesn't stop Rutare and Trachtenberg from choreographing the Viking vs. E.T. fight with fetishistic grace, particularly because the CG animation — stilted in its faux-rotoscoped movement, but soaked with the detail and lush ferity of a classic graphic novel — allows them to stage action that would be impossible to sell (or afford) in live-action. Moving away from green screen, the Volume, and other sources of sludgy-looking FX also gives the filmmakers license to make fantastic use of their characters' environments. A good time for its gore alone, the Ursa brawl is made all the more satisfying because of how cleverly she weaponizes Viking ships against against the Predator, in much the same way as the Japan-set episode that comes next takes full advantage of Tokugawa period architecture as a shinobi hops around a 17th century fortress with a Yautja on his tail (no spoilers, but let's just say the Predators are ill-prepared to fight on the Kawara tiles that lined every 17th castle from Edo on out). If 'The Sword' maxes out all of the cultural tenets you'd expect an American cartoon like this to exploit, Rutare and Trachtenberg solve the triteness of its story — two brothers, raised by their father as bitter rivals, fight to the death in order to prove their supremacy — by embracing its basicness. Almost entirely wordless from start to finish, the segment pares the sibling rivalry down to its purest level so that it can distill what its characters might be capable of achieving together if they ever fought as one… a theme that 'Killer of Killers' will return to with a vengeance in its out-of-this-world fourth segment. But in order to reach those heights, the movie first has to take to the skies, which it does in a 1942-set chapter about a wide-eyed Navy mechanic (voiced by Rick Gonzalez) who steals a rickety old plane and flies into battle against the Nazi fleet after he becomes convinced that something else has been hiding in the clouds and shooting down all his friends. This episode is slow to take off, as it starts by doubling down on the film's recurring fixation with children proving themselves to their parents (a relevant motif in a franchise preoccupied with self-worth, but one that 'Killer of Killers' can only glance at between grudge matches), and its chatty protagonist grows tiresome in a hurry. But once he's airborne, Rutare and Trachtenberg delight in orchestrating some ultra-graphic aerial mayhem, as our hero tries to outfox a heat-seeking alien jet from the cockpit of a busted tin can. Tom Cruise might have a slight edge when it comes to realism, but Rutare and Trachtenberg giddily compensate for that with stratospheric nose-dives and hailstorms full of disembodied limbs. The gore never quite reaches 'Ninja Scroll' levels or anything like that, but 'Killer of Killers' is able to maintain a rock-hard R without ever lowering itself to the level of empty titillation. By that point in the movie, there's little mystery left as to what Rutare and Trachtenberg are building toward for a grand finale: A melee that will somehow blend Ursa's ambivalent revenge with the ninja's regretful lonerism and the flyboy's inextinguishable resourcefulness. This final segment is a bit sillier and more cartoonish than the ones before it, as 'Killer of Killers' is suddenly forced to juggle a variety of (very) different personalities on a hostile alien world whose rules and physics are as rooted in fiction as the film's previous settings were rooted in fact, but there's a satisfying concision to how the script pulls all of its various stories together, and — for a project that could have felt like nothing but fan service — I appreciated that Rutare and Trachtenberg save their movie's only explicit allusion to the rest of the 'Predator' franchise until the end credits. Running a very tight 80 minutes or so between titles, 'Killer of Killers' doesn't pretend to be a blockbuster-sized entry in a series that has always struggled to find the right scale for itself, but it even more adamantly refuses to be the sort of throwaway junk that we've been conditioned to expect from straight-to-streaming spinoffs, remakes, sequels, and the like. Fantastic as this film would be to see on the big screen, I'd go so far as to say that this is what streaming should be for: Immaculately crafted bonus treats that stand on their own two feet and demand to be watched with both eyes at the same time as they serve to reinforce the primacy of the theatrical releases that prop them up. In a bottomless content abyss where only the strongest material survives, 'Killer of Killers' should have no trouble slaying the rest of its competition on your Hulu home page. 'Predator: Killer of Killers' will be available to stream on Hulu starting Friday, June 6. Want to stay up to date on IndieWire's film and critical thoughts? to our newly launched newsletter, In Review by David Ehrlich, in which our Chief Film Critic and Head Reviews Editor rounds up the best new reviews and streaming picks along with some exclusive musings — all only available to subscribers. Best of IndieWire The 25 Best Alfred Hitchcock Movies, Ranked Every IndieWire TV Review from 2020, Ranked by Grade from Best to Worst
Hype Malaysia
09-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Hype Malaysia
Predator: Killer of Killers Review: A Triple Threat Anthology of Carnage Through Time
You know, back when Prey was released in 2022, we were seated here, clamouring for the next logical step: a full-on showdown between the Predator and a warrior in feudal Japan. The setting, the code of honour, the katana clashing against alien tech—it just made sense. So, did we rub a magic lamp and summon a genie or something, ya'll? Because guess what, when you wish upon a star, your Disney dreams do come true. And in this case, they come wrapped in dreadlocks, holding a spine. Of course, no one's expecting a jiggling Will Smith cosplaying as Community's Tobias Fünke to show up in this historically brutal franchise (though, let's be honest, that would be hilarious if he just straight-up set the stage and used a right hook on a Yautja warrior). But under the Hulu banner, Killer of Killers makes its intentions clear right from the title. There's no metaphor, no slow burn—this is blood in the snow, mud, and fire kind of cinema. And that's the hook here. Where Prey stripped things down, Killer of Killers builds it back up into an anthology of carnage, showcasing three brutal matchups across time: Viking berserkers, feudal samurai, and WWII fighter pilots. It's a cinematic gauntlet, and the Predator walks through it like a god of war. So the only question left is: which warriors make it to the final round, and which end up as trophies? Each chapter in Killer of Killers opens with a symbol: Shield, Sword, Bullet. Not just tools of war, but metaphors for the kind of violence that defines the stories we're about to witness. These aren't just tales of survival—they're meditations on why we fight in the first place. Each human character becomes a mirror to a larger truth: What drives us to kill? Is it honor? Revenge? Duty? Survival? The film doesn't ask us to cheer for bloodshed; it dares us to interrogate it. 'Go forth among the stars and seek only the strongest prey.' We open with the Viking storyline, titled Shield. Amid the frostbitten echoes of Norse myth, we meet Ursa — a warrior forged in fire, grief, and merciless ambition. She's a towering presence, the kind of woman who doesn't just survive in a world of blood and snow, she dominates it. Her enemies aren't shown mercy. The twin arcs of her metal-rimmed shields dismember them, which whirl like spinning blades in a gruesome ballet. Heads roll. Limbs fly. And through it all, Ursa stands unflinching. Her son, Anders, follows closely behind, still learning the language of violence. But Ursa wants more than just a fighter—she wants a legacy. And when we learn the story of how her hands were once forced to drive a blade into her own father's chest, it becomes clear: she's not simply hardened by war, she was born into it. But just when you think you've seen the worst this frozen world can conjure, something else arrives—something bigger, crueler. The cold silence of the tundra is shattered by a different kind of hunter, one with no need for swords or shields. Enter the Yautja. Next, we journey to feudal Japan, and the title here is Sword—a fitting emblem for this chapter's central wound. We meet Kenji and Kiyoshi, brothers born to a warlord and raised like blades—forged to cut, sharpened by tradition, and destined to clash. From the moment we see them, we know where this is heading: a tragic tale of sibling rivalry. Think Itachi and Sasuke, but with less chakra and more blood-soaked silence. Kenji refuses to fight for succession, walking away from the legacy that Kiyoshi clings to like a lifeline. But Kiyoshi doesn't hesitate. He fights with fire, draws blood from Kenji's cheek, and carves a rift that splits them for decades. Kenji flees—not just from the village, but from the future everyone carved out for him. Two decades later, he returns after his father's passing. Still bitter. He wants to close the chapter by confronting his brother. However, the Yautja that stalks this era doesn't care for old grudges or family honor. It doesn't have time to bleed but rather to hunt for sport, not story. And what begins as a long-awaited reckoning becomes a desperate battle for survival… Finally, we land in 1941, with the chapter titled Bullet—a fitting symbol of speed, impact, and the inevitability of war. Here we meet Torres, a young American with his sights set on the skies. His dream? To be a fighter pilot, soaring above the chaos and danger. But beneath that ambition lies a reluctance. Torres is enthusiastic about flying, but fixing the machines that keep him airborne? Not so much. We get a glimpse of this when his car breaks down in the middle of a cornfield, and he calls his dad for help. His father, ever the tough but loving man, chides him—a reminder that sometimes you have to fix your own problems before you can chase your dreams. Soon, Torres is drafted into the Navy, and instead of climbing into cockpits, he's assigned to maintain planes on the ground. The tension between what he wants and what he's given simmers beneath the surface—all while a much deadlier enemy, one from beyond this world, is stalking the skies. 'They shall be your trophies.' The ideas behind these three stories? Honestly, brilliant. Much like what Prey did with the Comanche tribe, Killer of Killers taps into the power of setting—dropping Predators into distinct, brutal time periods where survival was already a daily war. Each backdrop amplifies the tension, forcing its characters to reckon not just with alien hunters, but with the violence baked into their own worlds. Just as Prey had a sharp, intentional visual language to explore its themes, Killer of Killers speaks through imagery of its own. Ursa's world is harsh and cold—her face half streaked in red, a symbol of lineage soaked in blood. But once she slays the beast and is submerged in water, it plays like a brutal baptism. A moment of cleansing. In that silence, she's no longer just a warrior—she's a mother mourning the cycle she failed to break. The bloodline she passed down, quite literally. In Sword, wind carries flowers through the air—serene, wistful, almost dreamlike—as if nature itself resists the violence between the brothers. And when that violence erupts, the flowers vanish. Only when the brothers fight together, reclaiming their bond, do the petals return. It's subtle, but deliberate. A visual metaphor for reconciliation, fragile but beautiful. There's a quiet irony in these chapter titles. Ursa is the unrelenting Viking warrior who knows only the language of violence. Yet, her chapter is given the title Shield. But she doesn't protect—not really. She leads the charge, pushes her son to kill, and only after blood has soaked the snow does she realize what a shield should have been. It's not about defense in battle. It's about protection in spirit—the kind a mother fails to offer when she's blinded by vengeance. Similarly, Sword, tied to the story of the two brothers, isn't just about combat. It's about the cut between them—that emotional gash that forms when power and legacy are prioritized over love. The title is as much about what divides them as it is what eventually unites them. There's real pathos underneath all the blood and fury. Each segment grapples with the violence of its era, how warriors are shaped—or shattered—by their codes of honor. The film isn't trying to be deep in a self-serious way, but it understands its characters enough to give the carnage emotional weight. That's especially true with Ursa, whose pain becomes the film's anchor, even as she's pitted against a hulking beast out of myth. It's no accident that the Yautja she fights is referred to as 'Grendel'—a monster of legend for a people who live and die by the sword. In this world, the Predator isn't just an alien—it's the embodiment of every warrior's final trial. We were also mesmerized by the sheer silence of Sword. Brief moments of dialogue bookend it—the tension of reunion, the heartbreak of departure—but everything in between is told through motion, breath, and glances. There's a poetry in how Kenji and Kiyoshi communicate: with grunts, gasps, and the clang of steel. The silence isn't empty; it's filled with history, resentment, love, and the aching regret of everything left unsaid. It's desperate at times, deliberate at others. In those long, wordless stretches, you don't need subtitles to understand the weight of their bond. You feel it—like a blade hovering just above the skin. Then there's Bullet. Torres isn't a hardened warrior. He's not a decorated ace or a battle-scarred soldier—he's a kid who just wants to fly, who barely knows how to fix the very machines he rides. He's the least equipped combatant, and yet he becomes the symbol of momentum, precision, and forward motion. He becomes the bullet—not because he starts out as one, but because he's forged into one through desperation and will. That's the brilliance of these titles. They're not just labels for each chapter—they're ideals the characters grow into, even if through pain, loss, or complete irony. The shield who kills. The sword that mends. The bullet who learns to aim not with violence, but with purpose. 'Become the Killer of Killers…' Now, the chapters are eventually bound together in a team-up kind of way. Does it work? Well, honestly, not really. It gave us flashbacks to those Marvel What If…? finale arcs, where every cool solo story gets mashed into a contrived ensemble moment. Sure, it ties the characters together in a grand climax, but it feels like a tonal shift—like a different movie stepped in for the last act. And while it's not bad per se, it lacks the focused emotional weight each story had on its own. As much as we were in awe, the ending did test our patience. Bringing the three survivors together felt like the film dipping a bit too deep into the 'plot armour' bucket. Even in their individual arcs, we already had to suspend disbelief as each of them managed to take down a Predator solo. But mashing them together into an arena setting? That stretched things a little thin. It's fire, no doubt—but it veers dangerously close to fanfiction logic, where the rule of cool overrides the stakes we'd been taking seriously. What did work—and work spectacularly—was the deep glimpse into Yautja culture and practice. The real thrill wasn't just watching humans outsmart these alien warriors, but getting a peek behind the mask. Their rituals. Their brutal gladiatorial arenas. Their unspoken code of proving one's worth through blood and fire. We see their leadership, their hierarchy, the almost sacred way they view combat—not just as killing, but as ascension. That's where Killer of Killers is at its most captivating: when it pulls back the curtain and reveals that the monsters are part of something bigger, older, and terrifyingly majestic. Not just hunters, but a civilization defined by challenge, spectacle, and honor. Much like Prey before it, Killer of Killers draws its creative lifeblood from the stripped-down, survivalist spirit that Dan Trachtenberg reignited in the franchise. Prey took us to the 1700s for a taut, character-first showdown between a young Comanche warrior and a brutal Predator. Killer of Killers feels like its spiritual heir—amplifying that same primal focus, but dialling the intensity up to eleven by throwing us into three epic epochs of human endurance and alien terror. Because when it hits, it is spine-tingling. The action is creative, animated splendour at its most ferocious. The Viking segment delivers a brutal tracking shot that barrels through blood and snow like a war-drum. The WWII dogfight? Pure adrenaline. It's a fist-pumping moment that finally showcases one of the Predators' most effective forms of combat: aerial warfare, done with ruthless precision. And then there's the swordfight—wooooh. Think intimate samurai choreography meets high-tech horror, as feudal blades clash with cloaked monsters in a blur of steel, speed, and snarling tension. So, is Predator: Killer of Killers the next Prey? Maybe not quite. It stumbles on cohesion with that final team-up feeling like a forced afterthought. But it stands tall as a worthy expansion of the universe—a brutal, beautiful tapestry of fight, blood, and honor. And honestly, if we could be in any timeline hunting alongside these warriors, it'd be here. In the end, Killer of Killers reminds us that no matter the era—whether the icy fjords, the cherry blossom groves, or the thunderous skies of WWII—the fight is always about more than survival. It's about what it means to be human when everything wants to tear you apart. It's wild to think that Dan Trachtenberg isn't just returning with another film later this year—but that it's another Predator movie. That's right, Predator: Badlands, starring Elle Fanning, is gearing up to hit cinemas soon, and honestly, the hype couldn't be higher. After how Prey and Killer of Killers shook up the franchise—bringing fresh perspectives, rich world-building, and a gritty survivalist spirit—there's every reason to believe Badlands will continue that winning streak. Trachtenberg's touch brought a grounded, visceral energy that redefined what a Predator movie could be, moving away from big-budget spectacle and leaning into tense, character-driven storytelling. If the previous entries taught us anything, it's that these films thrive when they blend brutal action with sharp character arcs and immersive atmospheres. So, while we're still unpacking the savage mythos and bloody legacy of Killer of Killers, we can already look ahead with excitement. If this is the new era of Predator, then sign us up. We're ready for the hunt. Get us to the chopper.
The Review Geek
07-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Review Geek
Predator: Killer of Killers (2025) Ending Explained – The post-credits scene changes what we know about Prey
Predator: Killer of Killers Plot Summary Killer of Killers is the newest addition to the Predator franchise. It's an animated anthology set in different times, such as the Viking era, feudal Japan, and the US during World War II. Each period has its specific Yautja targeting humans in their quest to prove they're the strongest hunters in the universe. The three main characters trying to survive are Ursa (a Viking), Kenji (a ronin), and Torres (a pilot). As in all Predator movies, these people are living their lives when, suddenly, the alien arrives, wreaking havoc. When she was a child, Ursa was forced to kill her dying father or choose to die in his place. Her dad forced her to kill him and avenge him when she was older. Now, that's her mission. But the creature reveals his presence right after she accomplishes her desire. Kenji's father was a fierce feudal lord, and the man demanded that Kenji and his brother fight each other to prove themselves. The kid ran away and prepared to get revenge when he was older. As an adult, he strikes at his brother's domain with all the contempt he has been carrying throughout his life. Unlike the others, Torres had a more peaceful life. However, he never went after his dreams. So, after being drafted, he arrived at the place where he could become the pilot he always wanted to be. The only problem is that his enemy wasn't only other soldiers but a Yautja spaceship. Do Ursa, Torres, and Kenji die? After their terrible battles against the Predators in their time, each of the humans managed to come out on top. The monster killed Ursa's entire clan in front of her, even her son, but she survived. In their heated battle, she tricks the alien, breaking the icy floor below him and submerging the creature. He tries to drag and drown her with him, but she uses his weapons to kill him. The Yautja interrupts Kenji's fight with his brother and destroys everyone in his path while trying to kill the ronin. Kenji almost doesn't survive, but he meets his sibling again, and they work together to defeat the threat. Although they accomplish that, Kenji is the only one who makes it out alive. Torres analyzes a strange object that pierced through one of the army's planes and finds out they have a new and strange opponent. However, he could never have imagined how superior and out of this world that enemy would be. With his spaceship, the Predator obliterates everyone in his way, leaving only Torres alive. The boy concocts a crazy but inventive plan and destroys the monster's vehicle. However, that isn't the end of any of these stories. Later, we find out the aliens have kidnapped Torres and the other survivors and taken them to the Yautja planet. What happens on the Yautja planet? Torres wakes up in a weird spaceship wearing a collar and surrounded by aliens. Even though he finds two more humans like him there, Ursa and Kenji, they can't understand each other's languages. So, they arrive on the planet not knowing anything. Then, what seemingly is the Yautja emperor, tells them they have to kill each other, and the winner will fight him. Kenji learned from his previous fight that they must work together if they want to survive, but the Viking has a different opinion. She charges him and the boy, who's also reluctant to fight, and almost kills Torres. While Ursa and Kenji fight, Torres is eaten alive by a massive monster. However, the movie quickly shows he's alive and trying to fight the creature from the inside. All of them work together to defeat the alien, but the kid is still inside it, so he's mistakenly taken out of the arena. Ursa keeps trying to kill Kenji, but he lets go of his sword, refusing to fight. That paralyzes her, leaving the woman confused about what she should do. That sets them as failures in the emperor's eyes, so he decides to activate the collars, which will explode their heads. Thankfully, Torres gets back there, revealing he deactivated the bombs. Now that they're free, they go after the emperor Yautja and its spaceship. While Ursa and Kenji distract the monster, Torres finds a way to use the vehicle and starts the engine. Although they get inside it, they still aren't in the clear. More Predators arrive and use a mechanism to chain the spaceship, preventing it from flying away. That's when Ursa decides to sacrifice herself to save them. She jumps off after leaving her final words, 'Don't avenge me,' and destroys the mechanism. The creatures easily kill her, but her new partners manage to survive and fly off into the distance. Who is inside the cryo pods? Right after that, we get a glimpse of somewhere on the Yautja planet. There are many cryo pods with mysterious creatures that the aliens have probably hunted down. Even though it's impossible to see what's inside most of them, we zoom in on one with a familiar face. Naru, the protagonist from Prey, is frozen inside one of the pods. This implies that, like with Torres and the others, the Predators have gone after her again and taken her to their planet. There's still a lot to find out, but this might mean a sequel to the movie. Or the girl might even appear in Badlands, the franchise's next instalment, giving us more insight into her situation. Read More: Predator Killer of Killers Movie Review
The Review Geek
07-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Review Geek
Predator: Killer of Killers (2025) Movie Review – Dan Trachtenberg keeps on giving us the best Predator movies
Dan Trachtenberg keeps on giving us the best Predator movies Dan Trachtenberg is at it again! The director of Prey gives us the latest incredible addition to the franchise, Predator: Killer of Killers. The movie almost behaves like an anthology, portraying Predators hunting their targets in three different scenarios: the Viking era, feudal Japan, and World War II USA. By the end, the human survivors are gathered on the Yautja planet for a last fight à la Predators (2010). Even though the three segments are very different, all of them are equally great. The first one follows Ursa, her son, Anders, and their clan as they embark on a journey of revenge. Their objective is to kill Zoran, the man who made her kill her father when she was a kid. Little do they know, someone (or should I say, something) is hunting them, as well. The Yautja is built like a tank, fitting the massive Viking bodies and weapons. The second segment — the best of them all — follows two Japanese brothers who love each other deeply but are put against each other by their father. A conflict between them changes the direction of their lives; one becomes the feudal lord, while the other, Kenji, turns into a ronin. They only meet again years later during a fatal confrontation, which a Yautja interrupts. This time, the creature is way leaner and stealthier, almost acting as a ronin, too. The last story is the most different. Torres has always wanted to be a pilot, and even in the middle of the war, he can't seem to achieve his dream. However, what grants him the opportunity to prove himself is a Predator attacking the US army. Unlike anything we've seen, the monster doesn't charge the soldiers, dismantling their bodies with his weapons. The alien only attacks them with his ship, creating a different kind of battle. Even after almost an hour, the movie still manages to feel fresh and use new ideas. One of Prey's greatest strengths came from its Predator design and how it fits the scenery of the movie. Trachtenberg obviously learned from that experience because he does the same here three times. It's not only their bodies that fit the space they're in, but also their movements. The first relies more on big blows, and his weapons are less futuristic than the others. The second rarely stops using his invisibility, counting on his stealthiness to kill enemies. The Yautja using the ship doesn't wear armour like the others or feel as menacing, implying that he mainly fights with the vehicle. Still, they have one thing in common: no one would like to face off against them, even with the heaviest artillery. The animation team also deserves high praise, as the film is beautiful. Each fight is fluid, frenetic, and exciting as it must be. That – and all the gore of course – make the kills even more satisfying to watch, gluing us to the screen. Even if it wasn't their intention, Killer of Killers proves the Predator franchise could benefit from a series like Love, Death & Robots. And as important as the Yautja are, the humans who survive the deadliest hunters of them all are equally as endearing. Each character shares a theme in their stories – stemming from their desires. Ursa journeys to avenge her father; Kenji fights his brother while carrying a similar anger, albeit not wanting his death, only to finish the first they had. Torres has the most optimistic tale of the bunch, wishing to prove his worth and achieve his dreams. Still, the desire fueling their bodies and lives is also what puts them on the Yautja's path. But surviving isn't the conclusion to their stories. The fight against the aliens and their new conflict brings changes to the characters. It's exciting to see how they evolve throughout the whole movie, sometimes in ways you didn't expect. Ursa easily becomes the best and most developed character in the end. Her final fight is a bittersweet thrill that pays homage to her son. Predator: Killer of Killers cements Dan Trachtenberg as the best director in the franchise. He knows his strengths and plays them well, always creating great designs, characters, and conflicts. And he's not done yet; with Badlands releasing in November, he's all set to bring us another all-time favourite this year. Even if it's still far off, there's a chance Dan directs the three best movies in the series. It's the year of Predator, and we're here for it.
Geek Culture
06-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Geek Culture
Predator: Killer of Killers
There's no denying how much of an impact the Predator franchise has left on the monster movie genre, evolving from its humble beginnings in 1987 with a relatively straightforward, almost slasher movie-like premise, to a massively successful series of films spanning time, space and even crossing over to another franchise, pitting man against monster across Earth and beyond. Still, there was a space that even the titular apex hunter had yet to conquer – the animated one – or at least until now, as the franchise's latest outing, Predator: Killer of Killers , not only aims to break new ground in the field of animated films, but to also bundle three stories into one with its ambitious anthology format, featuring different Predators on the hunt across three periods of human history. But as with its predecessors, it's the humans and not the alien hunters who continue to take centre stage, as the ugly creatures remain mostly cloaked and in the shadows across the film's three short story segments: The Shield sees a Viking raiding party led by Ursa and her son Anders taking revenge on an opposing faction led by Zorun, a brutal warlord responsible for the death of the shield-maiden's father; The Sword focuses on a pair of brothers in feudal Japan forced to go against each other after a childhood betrayal; and The Bullet, which follows an aspiring pilot during World War II as his squadron encounters something in the sky far deadlier than the German Luftwaffe. Despite literally being in the title of the show and placed front and centre in promotional material, each Predator variant across the three chapters is mostly left on the sidelines, delegated until the closing minutes of its associated story for the big reveal and final showdown. Granted, the little screentime given to each hunter is certainly impactful, as not only do each Predator look intimidating in their own right, but each also fits nicely into their respective timelines. Take the Vikings' Predator, for example, a massive, muscle-bound brute that leaves viewers questioning how it could have even kept to the shadows in the first place, decked out in appropriately low-tech weaponry (for a Predator, at least), armed with a single hand-cranked shockwave device in place of its missing right arm. There is still advanced equipment used by the creature, but the story focuses more on the ancient fight, as the Viking age brings the franchise the furthest back the series has gone, since its 1719 setting in 2022's Prey . This same level of culturally appropriate detail extends to the two other hunters as well, with the Japan-era Predator equipped with all the stealth-centric tools fitting of a ninja during the time period, or the technologically advanced spaceship which stalks the skies of World War II, leading to an intense chapter set almost exclusively in the air. That being said, with the majority of each chapter focuses on the story of human conflict, the film ultimately falls victim to its own ambitions, as by cramming three stories into a short 90-minute runtime, the speedy pace of each means that there simply isn't enough time for audiences to develop any sort of emotional attachment to the newly introduced characters. To put it another way, it's tough to truly grasp the Viking Ursa's pain and anger when the backstory of her father's death lasts no longer than five minutes, or the sting of a brother's betrayal when their shared relationship is only depicted on-screen via a short montage. Frankly, the movie would have benefited more if it had been spread across more fleshed-out episodes as a miniseries instead. Granted, when the action does kick in, it's truly a sight to behold, with decapitations, dismemberments, and disembowelment alike as the Predator makes quick and gory work of almost all who stand in its way, supplemented by a fluid stepped animation style similar to that seen in the recent Spider-verse films from Sony's Spider-Man series. Still, it's simultaneously satisfying yet disappointing to see what is supposedly the world's greatest hunters get outsmarted by a bunch of mere humans, although, as the film's title so aptly puts it, it takes a killer to kill a killer. Yet, amidst all the glorious animated bloodshed occurring on screen, one can't help but wonder how much more epic the action would look if the film were made in live-action instead. As impressive as the film's animated scenes are, it can't emulate the same visceral feel of seeing actual blood and guts (or at least, CGI-ed ones) pouring out of an unfortunate soul as they scream in agony. And for a franchise so rooted in graphic violence, the shift to animation, while offering a new perspective, does unfortunately present a step down in terms of its thrill-factor. Despite its missteps and missed opportunities, it's still heartening to see an almost 40-year-old franchise continuing to take risks to freshen up the monster movie formula. With its comparatively 'family-friendlier' visual style that's more accessible while still retaining on-brand amounts of violence, along with some interesting nods along the way to other shows in the franchise, Predator: Killer of Killers serves as a commendable starting point for those looking to dip their toes into the franchise, while still offering something refreshing for long time series veterans, just don't expect its move to animation to blow anyone's minds, well, apart from some of the unfortunate on-screen victims. So what's the point of this film? Aside from bringing audiences a closer look at the various Predators across time, look out for a blink and you'll miss it cameo from a franchise favourite character. Given Trachtenberg's larger involvement in the franchise, with his live-action Predator: Badlands out later this year, this could jolly well be his attempt at bringing back a prey he has an affinity for. Summary Predator: Killer of Killers pits man against monster in the yet-to-be-conquered animation space, and while there are no true winners, the film itself included, it's always something special when a franchise chooses to break convention and try something new, no matter the success of the final result. Story - 7/10 Direction - 7.5/10 Characterisation - 6.5/10 Geek Satisfaction - 7/10 Kevin is a reformed PC Master Race gamer with a penchant for franchise 'duds' like Darksiders III and Dead Space 3 . He has made it his life-long mission to play every single major game release – lest his wallet dies trying. Disney+ Predator Predator Killer of Killers Review
