Reviews
‘Predator: Badlands’ Review – An Unlikely Hero’s Journey Shakes Up the ‘Predator’ Franchise
Like Prey, director Dan Trachtenberg‘s latest entry in the Predator franchise centers on a young warrior’s rite of passage, a self-imposed hunt of impossible prey to prove themselves to their disbelieving clans. It even comes with sly callbacks to the original film that began it all. But Trachtenberg is far more interested in exploring the Yautja universe and its possibilities than safe retread, so much so that the seventh film in this series is a complete and audacious departure. Predator: Badlands takes a sharp detour into adventure, with its propulsive, creature-filled action matching the polarizing thrills of Yautja innovation.
Opening text from the Yautja codex reiterates that this species is friend to none and predator to all, a statement in stark contrast to Dek (Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi), the runt of his clan and this story’s unlikely hero. He’s introduced as his skills are being tested by his older brother Kwei (Mike Homik), who’s trying to prepare him for an important but familiar rite of passage: bring a worthy trophy home from a perilous hunt or die trying. That Dek is perceived as weak means that he has even more to prove, and he vows to retrieve a Kalisk from the hostile planet Genna, a perilous hunt from which no Yautja has ever returned.
(L-R) Thia (Elle Fanning) and Dek (Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi) in 20th Century Studios’ PREDATOR: BADLANDS film. Photo courtesy of 20th Century Studios. © 2025 20th Century Studios. All Rights Reserved.
Predator: Bandlands introduces an insane amount of franchise firsts, beginning with the opening sequence set on the Yautja home planet and the introduction of the Yautja language, fully created by Britton Watkins. That doesn’t mean that Dek is particularly chatty, though; that falls mainly to unlikely ally Thia (Elle Fanning), Weyland-Yutani’s most advanced synth yet. Thia’s previous encounter with the Kalisk left her separated from her legs and her team, including counterpart Tessa (also Fanning), which sets the stage for an odd couple pairing hacking their way through hostile terrain and lethal flora and fauna.
That becomes the narrative thrust of Badlands, an imaginative adventure story that sees Dek stripped of everything, including most weaponry, and forced to adapt to what’s available while dodging the latest death trap or encounter and processing what it means to be Yautja. Trachtenberg knows how to create scale and spectacle; Genna is as dazzling as it is deadly with Dek trekking through razor-bladed plains, treacherous cliffs, and beyond. Dek’s journey moves at a rapid clip, his resolute determination plowing forward through thrilling action set pieces and battles, all a showstopping showcase of practical effects and VFX talent from the likes of Alec Gillis, Wētā Workshop, Framestore, and more.
Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi as Dek in 20th Century Studios’ PREDATOR: BADLANDS film. Photo courtesy of 20th Century Studios. © 2025 20th Century Studios. All Rights Reserved.
As a creature-filled adventure tale, Badlands is a genuine crowd-pleaser with no shortage of creativity and heart. As a Predator movie, it’s a peculiar beast that’s trickier to reconcile. Dek is unlike any Yautja we’ve seen before, and not just for his shorter stature. This is a young warrior whose journey is shaped by trauma, though one Dek isn’t quite ready to acknowledge, and it’s one that introduces the loner Yautja to the foreign concept of found family.
Schuster-Koloamatangi does an admirable job with Dek’s tricky arc as a young, inexperienced warrior honorbound to a clan that rejects him, but one who slowly comes into his own. Patrick Aison‘s script constantly reminds us that Dek, by Yautja standards, is deficient. It not only underscores Dek’s underdog status to great effect, but it also doubles as an acknowledgment that Dek, and his film by proxy, is an abnormal outlier in Yautja culture. Trachtenberg also makes sly visual callbacks to the original Predator, drawing parallels from Dutch to Dek, especially in a trap montage, to further position the Yautja as the underdog hero.
The mandible design, prompted by the need for Dek to talk, makes for one of the weakest Predator character designs yet, but Schuster-Kolomatangi’s winsome personality compensates. Personality goes far here, especially when it comes to the film’s dialogue. Thia’s introduction comes with a rather clunky and distracting explanation for overcoming the language barrier, made more jarring by Thia’s perky nature. That bubbly persona complements Dek’s rough stoicism, but it does take some initial adjusting. Fanning quickly finds her stride as the surprising moral compass, but also impresses with her complete opposite turn as Tessa.
Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi on the set of 20th Century Studios’ PREDATOR: BADLANDS film. Photo courtesy of 20th Century Studios. © 2025 20th Century Studios. All Rights Reserved.
Tractchtenberg’s complete disruption of a Predator film extends right through to the film’s closing moments, where a single line of dialogue doubles both as the film’s final punchline and a massive Yautja bombshell guaranteed to get fans buzzing over its divisive implications. It sums up Badlands well; Trachtenberg and his talented team craft a stunning adventure epic with winsome characters, action, and creatures, but one that’s so drastically different that it’s polarizing. The dialogue and humor can feel out of place, and Dek is at odds with every Predator before, and yet it somehow works. Trachtenberg boldly keeps pushing these films into new territory, yet never forgets the past.
Predator: Badlands also blows the doors wide open on the franchise’s future. Tratchtenberg has explored the Yautja across time, with Badlands the furthest into the future yet. It functions well as a thrilling adventure, albeit very PG-13, but also lays exciting seeds for the future, from crossovers to sequels and beyond. That limitless potential is as exciting, if not more so, as this bold new adventure tale that introduces the Yautja’s heart.
Predator: Badlands releases in theaters on November 7, 2025.
Movies
‘Recluse’ Review – Harrowing Haunted House Horror With Lots Of Skeletons In Its Closet [Tribeca 2026]
A haunted house story is tense, terrifying storytelling when it’s properly executed. There’s been a growing tendency in horror to blend together harrowing haunted house stories with traumatic homecomings. A family member’s illness or death triggers a return to something dark that was intentionally left behind. Recluse hits all the tropes that one expects to find in this type of horror film, yet it manages to push this story in a daring, disturbing new direction that uses sound as a superpower.
It’s a unique lens to experience a familiar story about family secrets, generational trauma, unresolved grief, and the importance of not just legacy, but preservation. It’s a hell of a directorial debut from Henry Chaisson that’s guaranteed to get under the audience’s skin as they’re dragged through this painful, toxic tale.
Recluse is a gothic haunted house story where an isolated audio engineer, Joan (Sasha Frolova), returns to her family’s estate to check in on her father after he suffers a terrible accident. Joan suddenly discovers something much more sinister that paints her family’s tragedies in a very different light. Chaisson’s debut functions as a fascinating companion piece to this year’s undertone, which does a lot of the same things.
These two films make for a fascinating case of parallel thinking that tackles comparable subject matter through a similar lens, albeit in a bigger, less claustrophobic story in Recluse’s case. In fact, it’s the perfect horror film for anyone who was let down by undertone and didn’t feel like it brought enough to the table. It’s a considerably more conventional horror film, but this isn’t meant to denigrate its high quality. Recluse may hit some familiar notes, but it’s a scary, well-crafted haunted house horror story that goes for the jugular.
A gripping mystery that involves the tragic, unresolved circumstances that surround Joan’s mother teases a chilling connection to the recent horrors that have afflicted her father. Joan desperately tries to put these pieces together and give her family some sense of grander peace before she’s pulled under and becomes another victim of this festering curse that’s systematically worked its way through the Wyatt family. By doing so, Recluse digs into some deeper commentary on collective trauma, a very literal look at the “sins of the father” adage, and how one selfish decision can ripple through generations and fracture off into different dilemmas. By the end, Recluse has brilliantly flipped the powerful concept of legacy on its head by illustrating the horrors and sense of entitlement that can be born out of this idea.
A legacy is just another name for a curse under the right context.
”Listen” is a simple but powerful command from Joan’s father that she briefly obsesses over. In a way, it becomes Recluse’s grander mission statement, whether it’s in response to Joan listening to the people in her life, the signals that her body and mind are telling her, or the world’s greater whims. It’s important to reconnect with these grounding pillars, especially when it feels like control is slipping away.
Recluse excels with how audio and soundscapes can create entire universes that are full of rich details that transport individuals to these environments. There’s also a level of objectivity when it comes to audio recordings and the evergreen permanence that they’re able to provide. Joan’s career as an audio engineer makes sense for someone who wants to cling to hard evidence and proof of existence. It provides great insight into Joan without ever getting lost in contrived exposition.
Joan’s entire life is built around audio engineering, and so it makes sense that Recluse features excellent sound design that really goes above and beyond with its production elements. All of the sound design is expertly handled and turns the film into something special. These auditory elements intuitively keep the audience on edge so that they’re more susceptible to the actual scares that eventually strike. The smallest sound effect gets turned into a crushing, cacophonous assault. It’s a really effective way to build terror. Writer/Director Chaisson also handles the film’s music, which achieves a sublime, unnerving dissonance that further heightens the free-floating anxiety.
The story at the center of Recluse is slightly generic in some respects, but the film’s visual language and tone make it feel distinctly memorable. It also doesn’t hurt that the home that Joan returns to is basically an eerie art studio that’s full of contorted paintings. Recluse never struggles to generate mounting dread and terror that pump through every scene. Powerful, thoughtful cinematography consistently reinforces the film’s themes. Joan is constantly reflected in different surfaces or viewed through mirrors. She’s also often confined to tight, constricting framing that all speaks to her refracted identity during this moment of loss and her attempts to regain agency and control by making sense of something that’s seemingly unexplainable.
Recluse is full of truly disturbing visuals that make it seem like Joan is lost in a dream that turns out to be an extended nightmare. It’s a surreal journey reminiscent of invasive psychological horror like Silent Hill, with a touch of Sinister and Hereditary thrown in for good measure. There are so many individual frames that could endlessly fuel urban legends and creepypastas.
It does a great job with how it presents Joan’s fragile state of mind, where chilling flashes of the past sneak up on her and unresolved trauma manifests into unsettling imagery. There are endless shots that are obscured in darkness, or shadow is creeping in from the corners of frames like a suffocating force of nature. It’s very rare that a scene is fully lit. It leads to a very lonely, isolating atmosphere that’s easy to get lost in.
Chaisson’s debut stands out from the many other high-minded haunted house horror films without succumbing to the same pretensions that often drag down these stories. It’s a grief-stricken character study that’s full of upsetting visuals that scratch at something visceral and raw. The horror elements connect, and the answers to its grander mystery provide an appropriate and believable sense of closure. Those who are looking for an atmospheric horror film that isn’t afraid to be different while still channeling something real will appreciate Recluse.
Recluse made its world premiere at Tribeca; release info TBD.
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