Predator: Killer of Killers – Film Review

In Predator: Killer of Killers, directors Dan Trachtenberg and Joshua Wassung take the legendary franchise into uncharted territory with an adult animated anthology film that slices through the ages with a savage, kinetic energy. This latest installment — the sixth film and eighth overall — is a bold, multi-layered experiment in storytelling that manages to honor the franchise’s roots while forging new paths through Norse sagas, samurai clashes, and the gritty skies of World War II dogfights. It’s an impressive feat that rarely feels disjointed, thanks to the sharp script by Micho Robert Rutare and a consistently high level of animation and voice talent.

Unlike the more straightforward survival-horror tone of previous Predator films, Killer of Killers leans into the anthology format, splitting its narrative into three distinct yet thematically connected segments: a brutal Viking-era revenge quest, a tense samurai sibling rivalry, and a high-stakes WWII aerial dogfight. Each segment introduces a unique protagonist, whose personal journey intertwines with the inevitable clash with the fearsome Predator.

This structure allows the film to dive deep into the psychology of each hero, exploring themes of honor, vengeance, and the thin line between humanity’s own savagery and the Predator’s bloodlust. The decision to animate the film gives the creators the freedom to stage truly spectacular action sequences that would be daunting, if not impossible, to achieve in live-action. The result is a visual feast of stylized violence, atmospheric backdrops, and character designs that evoke both historical accuracy and dark, fantastical elements.

The film opens in the harsh wilderness of Viking-era Scandinavia, introducing Ursa (Lindsay LaVanchy), a fierce warrior determined to avenge her father’s death. The segment captures the cold brutality of the era with stark visuals — snow-covered forests, blood-drenched battlefields, and the imposing fortress of her enemy. Director Trachtenberg crafts a visceral, emotionally charged arc that grounds the viewer in Ursa’s motivations while foreshadowing the franchise’s signature alien horror.

When the Predator appears, it’s not just a monster; it’s a towering, almost mythic figure — a silent hunter that elevates the threat level beyond anything human warriors have faced. The animation style leans into this horror, framing the Predator as a silhouette of dread in the darkness. The action here is particularly strong, with fluid, bone-crunching choreography that captures the desperation and determination of Ursa’s final stand.

Transitioning to feudal Japan, the second tale follows Kenji (Louis Ozawa), the estranged son of a warlord returning home under fraught circumstances. This segment shines in its exploration of brotherhood, honor, and the burden of legacy. The emotional tension between Kenji and his brother Kiyoshi is beautifully written and voiced, adding depth to the eventual confrontation.

Visually, the animators embrace a painterly aesthetic — cherry blossoms drifting in the wind, shadows flickering against ancient castle walls, and rain-slicked battlegrounds that feel both dreamlike and deadly. The Predator’s appearance here is more stealthy, reminiscent of a lurking oni, striking from the shadows. The sequence captures the vulnerability and heroism of human warriors who must confront both internal conflict and an external, unstoppable force.

The third segment shifts gears to WWII, introducing Torres (Rick Gonzalez), an American fighter pilot whose mechanical prowess and quick thinking make him a standout protagonist. This part of the film is thrillingly kinetic, with dogfights that evoke the best of war cinema, while the Predator’s spacecraft adds an otherworldly twist.

The high-octane aerial combat sequences are a highlight of the film’s animation, combining dynamic camera angles, dramatic lighting, and intricate detail in the planes and weaponry. Torres’s journey is perhaps the most classically heroic, capturing the everyman spirit of soldiers thrown into extraordinary circumstances. His voice performance brings a grounded, likable charm to the role, balancing out the film’s darker themes.

What makes Predator: Killer of Killers particularly satisfying is the way it eventually brings these disparate heroes together in a final, blood-soaked confrontation. The anthology format risks feeling episodic, but Rutare’s script cleverly unites the protagonists’ arcs, creating a sense of fate and shared purpose.

The arena sequence that brings Ursa, Kenji, and Torres together is a spectacle of savage entertainment — a callback to the franchise’s tradition of “man vs. monster” but on a grander, more cosmic scale. The voice performances remain strong, especially from LaVanchy and Ozawa, who imbue their characters with raw determination and defiance. Gonzalez, meanwhile, anchors the trio with a down-to-earth resilience that feels earned.

Technically, the film is a triumph. The animation style shifts subtly between each era, embracing distinct color palettes and textures that reinforce the historical and emotional tone of each chapter. The animators use shadow and silhouette to build tension, often letting the Predator lurk unseen until the moment of attack. It’s a perfect marriage of horror and action, reminiscent of the franchise’s best live-action entries.

The sound design is equally impressive. The Predator’s iconic clicking and growls are present but enhanced with more monstrous variations that add to its menace. The score blends orchestral swells with eerie electronic pulses, creating an atmosphere that is both grand and unsettling.

Predator: Killer of Killers is a thrilling, bloody, and surprisingly thoughtful addition to the franchise. By embracing the anthology format and focusing on historical warriors, the film reinvigorates the Predator mythos, offering a fresh perspective on what it means to be both hunter and hunted. Its animation is top-tier, and the voice performances give each chapter a human heart that resonates beneath the gore and spectacle.

While the film occasionally struggles with pacing — especially in the transitions between segments — and might have benefited from slightly longer runtimes to fully develop the supporting characters, these are minor quibbles in an otherwise excellent installment. Fans of the franchise will find plenty to love, and newcomers may be pleasantly surprised by the emotional depth layered beneath the Predator’s monstrous visage. It’s a fierce, innovative, and visually stunning addition to the Predator saga that proves the hunt is far from over.