Let’s be honest: being a fan of 80s action franchises is usually a recipe for disappointment. We spend decades watching studios drag our favorite monsters out of retirement, slap a fresh coat of CGI on them, and force them into PG-13 plots that make zero sense. I’d pretty much given up. I didn't want another "upgrade." I didn't want a Predator fighting in a suburban high school. I just wanted the feeling I had when I was twelve years old, sitting too close to the TV, terrified that something was watching me from the trees. I wanted the sweat, the dirt, and the fear.
So, imagine my surprise when I was doom-scrolling through myflixer website on a Friday night, desperate for anything that wasn't a true-crime documentary, and I stumbled across Predator: Badlands. I knew Dan Trachtenberg was directing it, which gave me a glimmer of hope after what he did with Prey, but I wasn't prepared for this. I clicked play with a beer in one hand and a healthy dose of skepticism in the other. Two hours later, the beer was warm, and I was literally sitting on the edge of my couch. This isn't just a "good sequel"; it's a reminder of why we fell in love with this ugly motherf*cker in the first place.
The first thing you notice? The silence. Most modern blockbusters start with an explosion to wake you up. This movie starts with the wind howling over scorched rocks. The setting is the "Badlands"—vast, open, arid, and completely unforgiving. It’s a genius pivot. In a jungle, you can hide. In a city, you can run into a building. Here? You are exposed. Where do you run when the sky is the only roof?
Trachtenberg understands that the scariest thing about the Predator isn't the plasma cannon; it’s the fact that it is a better hunter than you. By stripping away the cover, he ramps up the paranoia to an unbearable level. Every shimmering wave of heat on the horizon could be the enemy. I found myself squinting at the screen, trying to spot the tell-tale shimmer of the cloaking device, feeling just as helpless as the characters. It’s a masterclass in "less is more." You aren't watching a superhero fight; you're watching a chess match where one player is invisible and the other is dehydrated.
Director: Dan Trachtenberg (The guy who actually understands this franchise)
Visual Effects Supervisor: Joshua Watkins
Stunt Coordinator: Richard Cowan
Lead Actress: Elle Fanning
Production Design: Kara Lindstrom
We need to talk about the look of this thing. Joshua Watkins, the Visual Effects Supervisor, deserves a raise. The problem with recent movies is that the CGI looks too... clean. It looks like a video game. Watkins and his team have managed to make the Predator’s tech feel grounded and gritty. The cloaking effect has this weird, oily distortion to it that feels organic, like a heat mirage gone wrong.
And it’s not just the alien tech. The world feels lived-in and dirty. When things blow up—and they do—it feels dangerous. This is thanks in large part to Richard Cowan’s stunt coordination. In an era where everyone floats around on wires, the action here has weight. When a character gets thrown into a rock face, you feel the crunch. It’s ugly. It’s messy. It reminded me of the bruising physicality of the original film. There’s a sequence involving a scramble up a scree slope that had me wincing in sympathy pain. It’s nice to see action stars who actually look like they’re struggling to survive, rather than just performing a dance routine. It's that tactile grittiness that keeps you glued to Myflixer even when the pacing slows down to let the suspense build.
The pacing is relentless. There is no bloat here. No subplot about a government agency trying to capture the alien for research (thank god). It’s just survival. Pure and simple. The film focuses heavily on the protagonist, played by Elle Fanning, who has to rely on wits rather than firepower. It’s a terrifying dynamic.
There’s a moment—I won't spoil the context—where she has to stay perfectly still while the Predator is inches away, searching for a heat signature. The sound design drops out completely, leaving just the sound of her heartbeat and that iconic, clicking purr of the alien. I swear I stopped breathing for a full minute. It’s visceral. It treats the audience like adults who can handle suspense, rather than kids who need keys jangled in front of their faces every five seconds.
Runtime: A tight 100 minutes (approx). No wasted time.
The Vibe: Think Mad Max meets Alien.
Key Gadget: The Predator has some new toys adapted for the desert environment, including a terrifying new projectile weapon.
Location: Filmed in actual arid badlands to capture the harsh lighting and vast scale.
Connection: While standalone, it shares the gritty DNA of Prey.
Look, if you want deep philosophical debates, go read a book. But if you want to see a movie that grabs you by the throat and drags you through the dirt for an hour and a half, Predator: Badlands is it. It’s violent, it’s tense, and it looks incredible. Dan Trachtenberg has proven twice now that he is the only person who should be allowed to touch this franchise.
It’s rare that I finish a movie and immediately want to watch it again, but this one hooked me. It’s the perfect antidote to the sanitized, green-screen sludge we usually get. Do yourself a favor: turn off the lights, put your phone in another room, and stream this on Myflixer. Just maybe check the corners of your room before you go to sleep. You never know what’s hunting you.
