If you’ve ever wondered who would win in a royal rumble between a Viking shieldmaiden, a ninja, and a WWII flyboy against an eight-foot alien, Predator: Killer of Killers is here to scratch that very specific itch. When Prey came out in 2022, nobody expected a Predator prequel to slap that hard. But it did. It really, really did. Now, with Predator: Killer of Killers, Trachtenberg and co-director Joshua Wassung return to the franchise, but not with another live-action film, Badlands comes out later this year, but with a gorgeous, gloriously gory animated anthology that feels like a gift to the franchise and a love letter to anyone who’s ever asked the ultimate stoner question: “Okay, but what if a Predator fought a samurai?” And no, the Yakuza enforcer in Predators doesn’t count.
Killer of Killers is broken up into three main chapters, each set in a different historical setting. First, we’ve got Ursa, a Viking warrior out for vengeance after her family is slaughtered. Then there’s Kenji, a ninja estranged from his samurai brother, caught in a family power struggle in feudal Japan. And finally, there’s Torres, a WWII pilot with a knack for fixing things. What links them? Each one gets the ultimate test of skill when a Predator crashes into their lives.
Each story gets its own tone and style. The Shield is very brutal, like The Northman with extra decapitations. The Sword is slick, elegant, and almost wordless, letting the visuals and swordplay do the talking. And The Bullet is a high-altitude aerial dogfight between a junky old fighter plane and a Predator spacecraft. It’s “Top Gun meets Alien,” and somehow it works. Yet, it doesn’t stop there.
Just when you think you’re watching a cool standalone anthology of “What if X fought a Predator?” battles, the film swerves. The surviving warriors, Ursa, Kenji, and Torres, are captured by other Predators, tossed into stasis, and brought to some alien world to fight it out in a literal death arena. The winner supposedly earns the right to fight the Warlord Predator.
But instead of tearing each other apart, our heroes decide to work together because if you’re going to escape a planet full of musclebound space murderers, teamwork kinda matters. And that final battle? Pure chaos in the best way. It’s got hoverbikes, giant monsters, rocket punches, and one hell of a heroic sacrifice that ties everything up with a bittersweet bow.
This isn’t your average Saturday morning cartoon. The animation style is stylized, pulling from Arcane and Into the Spider-Verse, with that hand-painted texture and weighty movement that makes each kill feel murderously real. It’s animated “on the twos,” which gives it a slightly jittery, dreamlike feel, as if you’re watching a graphic novel come to life. It’s bloody. It’s kinetic. It’s beautiful.
And yeah, they went full R-rating with heads getting chopped off. But it’s not just gore for the sake of it. Each kill is choreographed like a deadly dance, whether it’s a Viking berserker charging into battle with twin shield or a ninja sliding across a tiled rooftop.
For me, Torres Stole the Show. Of the trio, our scrappy mechanic, who turned into a reluctant ace pilot, steals the spotlight. He’s got the most personality, the best one-liners (“Whoops!”), and the most fun arc. You root for him because he’s clever and genuinely feels like an underdog in a franchise filled with grizzled warriors.
That being said, all three characters are fleshed out with enough care that you actually care who lives and dies. That’s rare in a franchise known for chewing through humans like gum.
Franchise fans will eat this up. There’s the return of the iconic flintlock pistol, and we get a glimpse of Prey’s Naru in stasis, suggesting she too was collected. If you were wondering whether there was a bigger story in the works, consider this your confirmation.
The ending teases exactly the kind of direction that could bring back a certain Austrian muscleman without needing to worry about how old he is. Animation lets you do things live-action can’t, like throw Dutch back into the fight without asking him to run through the jungle shirtless at 77. Smart move, Disney. Smart move. Not only that, if the third act takes place in the present, then it means perhaps Danny Glover’s character, Lieutenant Mike Harrigan, was also collected, since chronologically he was the last one to get the flintlock pistol.
At a lean 80 minutes, Predator: Killer of Killers doesn’t waste a second. It knows what it is. It’s a brutal, stylish experiment in what this franchise can be when you stop trying to remake the 1987 original. It feels like the Predator version of The Animatrix. The ideas, aesthetics, and violence somehow feel richer than most theatrical releases.
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