Imagine the crushing letdown of anticipating a thrilling reboot of Terrence Malick's iconic drama Badlands—transformed into a chilling sci-fi horror where Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek battle a menacing alien with bizarre, mouth-like features. But alas, that's not what we get. Instead, Predator: Badlands delivers yet another chapter in the notoriously resilient Predator franchise, a series that's proven as hard to eradicate as a cockroach, kicking off way back in 1987 with Arnold Schwarzenegger's legendary showdown against a snarling extraterrestrial hunter prowling the jungles of Central America. If you're new to this universe, think of the Predator as a deadly alien warrior, clad in advanced armor and equipped with high-tech weapons, who stalks and kills its prey for sport—often humans in perilous settings.
But here's where it gets controversial—does revamping such a beloved action-horror icon dilute its edge? Predator: Badlands barely clings to life thanks to Elle Fanning's undeniable charisma and effortless screen presence, yet it starkly illustrates the pitfalls of overhauling the central antagonist. When the script demands that the Predator character be softened, made relatable, sympathetic, vulnerable, and even... somewhat endearing, it fundamentally alters what makes this creature terrifying. For beginners, this is like turning a ruthless villain into a misunderstood hero—exciting for character development, but it risks losing the original's core appeal of raw, primal fear.
Enter Dek, a youthful member of the grotesque Predator clan, brought to life through impressive prosthetics by New Zealand actor Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi. This youngling features those infamous, nightmarish mandibles—clustered claws that evoke pure dread—and is marked by his supposed gentleness and fragility. (For those wondering, a true horror flick might even delve into more unsettling anatomical details, like the creature's alien anatomy.) Dek faces execution by his rigid father for these traits, so he embarks on a daring escape to restore his predatory honor by slaying a formidable beast known as the Kalisk—a monster so fearsome that even his dad trembles at the thought.
And this is the part most people miss—the twist that flips the franchise on its head. Dek crosses paths with two robotic-human hybrid clones, or 'synths' as they're called, both portrayed by the versatile Fanning. One is Thia, the bubbly, quirky, error-prone type—a manic pixie dream girl in synthetic form—who sparks an unlikely bond with Dek, like a buddy comedy crossover. The other is a cold, mechanical assassin, a precision-driven Stepford wife ninja who becomes the true predator in the story, effectively overshadowing the alien's role and questioning the entire series' identity. Is this innovative storytelling or a betrayal of what fans love about the Predator? It's a bold move that could divide viewers—some might argue it evolves the mythos, while others see it as stripping away the visceral thrill.
Ultimately, the utter futility of the plot drains all excitement, and even Fanning's timeless sparkle can't revive it. So, what do you think? Does attempting to humanize a monster like the Predator breathe new life into a aging franchise, or is it a misguided attempt that dooms it further? Agree or disagree—let's discuss in the comments!
