
'How To Train Your Dragon' (2025) Review: An Honest Recreation That Brings Back Everything We Love About The Original
Let's face it, we all have that special show or film that we can't help but watch on loop when we're down or there's nothing else better to binge on. One such film that manages to find itself at such a coveted spot is none other than the hit 2010 animated film 'How To Train Your Dragon'. For those who weren't able to catch the film in its first go-around, it was a pivotal release that captivated a generation thanks to its beautiful score, visuals, and message and is still widely loved to this day.
However, if you missed your chance to catch it in theatres the first time, then good news: it's back, this time with a fresh, live-action coat of paint. Directed by Dean DeBlois and with music by John Powell, this film is here to once again unleash some draconic mischief for both the uninitiated and the nostalgic.
The story takes place, once again, in Berk, an isolated island far off the world, filled with the hardiest of Vikings imaginable. They are a resilient bunch, and they have to be, as they have been locked in a vicious war against the dragons for generations. Despite their hardened lifestyle, an inquisitive boy who'd rather ask questions first before fighting emerges – enter Hiccup (played by Mason Thames). He is a scrawny kid who wants nothing more than to be recognised by his father and tribe chieftain, Stoick the Vast (played by Gerard Butler).
However, his life begins to change when he befriends Toothless, a Night Fury dragon. Torn between two worlds, Hiccup struggles to keep his friendship a secret as he simultaneously discovers that the very foundation of Viking society is wrong.
But let's be honest: if you've watched the original, then you'd know this story by heart. And why is that? It's because this film is an honest-to-God, beat-for-beat remake of the 2010 original, barring a few differences. One of the key differences between this film compared to the original is that it features an additional 27 minutes to its runtime, expanding on the story a bit, though it does lose a joke or two.
There's hardly any change to the original, and why should there be? We can all agree that the original was practically perfect and that messing with it might just enrage the fanbase (something that has been happening way too often as of late). This is a fact that director Dean DeBlois knew well, as he is also one of the co-directors for the original animated film. However, there have been a lot of added details that make the world feel more alive compared to the original. Let's discuss them.
First things first, have you ever noticed that, in the animated trilogy, we only see Hiccup's parents? He's hardly the only child in the clan, so what gives? Well, in the remake, we actually see some of the other parents, namely Snotlout's (played by Gabriel Howell) dad. This adds some needed depth and perhaps justifies why Snotlout was always an in-your-face character in the original; sure, we see his father in the original as well, but he has actual dialogue and interaction with his very own flesh and blood, which is a nice touch.
Furthermore, have you ever wondered why Astrid (played by Nico Parker) had this animosity towards Hiccup in the original film? Sure, our protagonist was bullied by his classmates, but Astrid loathed Hiccup even before the dragon training, something that only worsened until she met Toothless. The remake answers that too by giving her a backstory where she comes from nothing and that she had to fight for recognition, unlike Hiccup, who can mess up and get away with it because he's the son of the chieftain.
In its entirety, 'How To Train Your Dragon' (2025) is an amazing recreation that was only possible through its amazing cast. Right off the bat, Mason Thames does an amazing job of recreating the immature nature of the original Hiccup and his slow but steady transformation into a Viking we'd follow to the ends of the Earth. Nico Parker brings a more grounded reinterpretation of Astrid; though it doesn't stray much from the original, she manages to find away to deviate from simply being a love interest without staining the original.
Then there is Butler's Stoick the Vast. You know you're a damn good actor when they have to pull you from the original voice acting cast to the live-action remake. He is an intimidating beast who honours his animated counterpart by going toe-to-toe with dragons in an epic fistfight. Not only that, his acting prowess really shines during the more emotional beats of the story, showing us that there's more to that wall of muscle and beard.
But that's not even half of it yet. We were fully immersed thanks to the excellent blending of CGI that makes everything feel natural and real. Partially shot in Northern Ireland, we could feel that each area is alive with every overhead and long shot shown to us. From the practical to the computer-generated sets, there is not a scene that feels out of place, especially when you add in the dragons and the human cast to the mix, doubly so when it comes to the fight scenes. A major gripe we have with the original was the final fight; it was supposed to be an epic confrontation between Hiccup and Toothless against the Alpha Dragon. Rather than a daring battle in the sky, all we got was the protagonists zipping amongst the clouds, taking potshots whenever they could. In the remake, however, the fight scenes are more visceral and intense, and the fact that we get to see most of it adds to the intensity.
However, it is not entirely perfect. Despite the animation teams' best efforts, Toothless is a tad goofy, but this is largely due to natural design rather than something that is lost in translation. Though he blends nicely with the human cast, you do notice how jarring it could be when you place him side by side with the rest of the dragons. As for the story, we noticed a few key changes that actually hurt the film.
One thing that was sorely missing was Hiccup's epiphany, where our protagonist discovers that dragons are fundamentally different from what they initially assumed. Not only that, in that same scene, he discovers that dragons are not fireproof on the inside. It is a small change, yes, but we cannot deny the snowball-like implications this has at the end of the original film. There are a few gags that we are missing as well, such as Hiccup fainting after freeing Toothless, Hiccup being bound to Toothless for a night following a day of training, and much more. But these are tiny nitpicks, and barring the previously mentioned one, not much of the story is changed. But since almost everything is the same, does it really warrant a live-action remake? That's something only you can decide.
Overall, 'How To Train Your Dragon' (2025) plunges us back into the world of Berk in a stunning live-action recreation that is as true to the original as it can be. Though it is a beat-for-beat retelling of the original, it adds a lot of details that further expands the world and its characters in a way that can satisfy both lovers of the classic as well as emerging fans.
'How To Train Your Dragon' will land in theatres on 12th June, 2025.
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The Live-Action ‘How To Train Your Dragon' Remake Flies Dangerously Close To The Original [Review]
Subscribe to our FREE The 2010 animated How To Train Your Dragon (HTTYD) is beloved for good reason: it's got heart, humour, and a solid three-act story about a lonely, damaged boy bonding with an equally lonely, injured dragon. With its spirited script and swooping animation, it carved out a special place in the hearts of audiences. But when the live-action remake was announced, I wasn't ecstatic about it – not because I didn't think it would be good – just that I felt it's… too soon . Some might argue that 15 years is technically long enough for a reboot, but the third instalment in the animated film series released only 6 years ago. Where do we draw the line between a nostalgic throwback and an obvious attempt at milking a franchise? That's showbiz, baby. © DreamWorks. There are some tweaks. There's a dash more backstory for Astrid (played confidently by Nico Parker), and Berk is now framed as part of an international dragon task force led by Vikings – which is fun, if not exactly transformative. But these little updates feel more like easter eggs for superfans than meaningful reinventions. That said, it's perfectly cast, and everyone does a good job at matching their animated counterparts. © DreamWorks. Mason Thames makes a strong Hiccup, our awkward Viking hero who famously can't bring himself to kill an injured dragon and ends up making history instead. His scenes with Toothless still pack an emotional punch, the fish scene being a highlight for me (you'll know the one). © DreamWorks. Gerard Butler, returning to portray Stoick the Vast in live-action, brings gruff dad energy with real warmth. Nico Parker as Astrid is fierce, curious, and finally given more to do than just roll her eyes and kick things. © DreamWorks. Cinematographer Bill Pope brings the isle to glorious life, with stunning shots of Hiccup riding Toothless through Northern Ireland-as-Berk. But I couldn't help feeling irked by how off some visuals felt, especially certain close-up shots that didn't quite translate so well with the CG background. It's hard not to compare HTTYD to the Lilo & Stitch remake, especially since their releases are only a few weeks apart. © DreamWorks. But the key difference is time. Stitch has had 20-something years to marinate in pop culture – he has earned his resurrection. HTTYD , meanwhile, feels like throwing a freshly baked loaf back into the oven for no good reason. Given how heavily the original film adapted Cressida Cowell's books, you'd think this version might've dared to fly a little further from the nest – take some creative risks, tell a new story within the same world. But instead, it clings tightly to the original flight path. But, I must say again – it's not a bad film. Like I mentioned earlier, the script works and it's undoubtedly an entertaining watch, especially for existing HTTYD fans. There's no denying the care and craftsmanship poured into the project. It's made with love, especially with the same crew stewarding the film. © DreamWorks. What I love most about HTTYD 's story is that it shows how imperative it is to have just one person who defies generations of familiarity and dares to do something different. Hiccup's apparent weakness of not being able to fight dragons causes him and everyone else in Berk to doubt his identity as a Viking, especially with him being Stoick's son. But HTTYD ultimately proves to us that identities are not necessarily defined and limited to passed-down patterns. Sometimes we fight things (or people) purely because we don't try to understand them. But as Hiccup shows us, attempting to understand what scares us is a scary thing to do – yet it pays off in lasting and unimaginably rewarding ways. © DreamWorks. All that said, it's hard to ignore the bigger picture: if we're already remaking HTTYD , what's next? A live-action Moana? How To Train Your Dragon opens in cinemas nationwide on 12 June 2025. If you're watching it in Sunway Pyramid, drop by the HTTYD roadshow now until 22 June at LG2, Orange Concourse for some fire-breathing fun! Share your thoughts with us via TRP's . Get more stories like this to your inbox by signing up for our newsletter.


Hype Malaysia
2 days ago
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'How To Train Your Dragon' (2025) Review: An Honest Recreation That Brings Back Everything We Love About The Original
Let's face it, we all have that special show or film that we can't help but watch on loop when we're down or there's nothing else better to binge on. One such film that manages to find itself at such a coveted spot is none other than the hit 2010 animated film 'How To Train Your Dragon'. For those who weren't able to catch the film in its first go-around, it was a pivotal release that captivated a generation thanks to its beautiful score, visuals, and message and is still widely loved to this day. However, if you missed your chance to catch it in theatres the first time, then good news: it's back, this time with a fresh, live-action coat of paint. Directed by Dean DeBlois and with music by John Powell, this film is here to once again unleash some draconic mischief for both the uninitiated and the nostalgic. The story takes place, once again, in Berk, an isolated island far off the world, filled with the hardiest of Vikings imaginable. They are a resilient bunch, and they have to be, as they have been locked in a vicious war against the dragons for generations. Despite their hardened lifestyle, an inquisitive boy who'd rather ask questions first before fighting emerges – enter Hiccup (played by Mason Thames). He is a scrawny kid who wants nothing more than to be recognised by his father and tribe chieftain, Stoick the Vast (played by Gerard Butler). However, his life begins to change when he befriends Toothless, a Night Fury dragon. Torn between two worlds, Hiccup struggles to keep his friendship a secret as he simultaneously discovers that the very foundation of Viking society is wrong. But let's be honest: if you've watched the original, then you'd know this story by heart. And why is that? It's because this film is an honest-to-God, beat-for-beat remake of the 2010 original, barring a few differences. One of the key differences between this film compared to the original is that it features an additional 27 minutes to its runtime, expanding on the story a bit, though it does lose a joke or two. There's hardly any change to the original, and why should there be? We can all agree that the original was practically perfect and that messing with it might just enrage the fanbase (something that has been happening way too often as of late). This is a fact that director Dean DeBlois knew well, as he is also one of the co-directors for the original animated film. However, there have been a lot of added details that make the world feel more alive compared to the original. Let's discuss them. First things first, have you ever noticed that, in the animated trilogy, we only see Hiccup's parents? He's hardly the only child in the clan, so what gives? Well, in the remake, we actually see some of the other parents, namely Snotlout's (played by Gabriel Howell) dad. This adds some needed depth and perhaps justifies why Snotlout was always an in-your-face character in the original; sure, we see his father in the original as well, but he has actual dialogue and interaction with his very own flesh and blood, which is a nice touch. Furthermore, have you ever wondered why Astrid (played by Nico Parker) had this animosity towards Hiccup in the original film? Sure, our protagonist was bullied by his classmates, but Astrid loathed Hiccup even before the dragon training, something that only worsened until she met Toothless. The remake answers that too by giving her a backstory where she comes from nothing and that she had to fight for recognition, unlike Hiccup, who can mess up and get away with it because he's the son of the chieftain. In its entirety, 'How To Train Your Dragon' (2025) is an amazing recreation that was only possible through its amazing cast. Right off the bat, Mason Thames does an amazing job of recreating the immature nature of the original Hiccup and his slow but steady transformation into a Viking we'd follow to the ends of the Earth. Nico Parker brings a more grounded reinterpretation of Astrid; though it doesn't stray much from the original, she manages to find away to deviate from simply being a love interest without staining the original. Then there is Butler's Stoick the Vast. You know you're a damn good actor when they have to pull you from the original voice acting cast to the live-action remake. He is an intimidating beast who honours his animated counterpart by going toe-to-toe with dragons in an epic fistfight. Not only that, his acting prowess really shines during the more emotional beats of the story, showing us that there's more to that wall of muscle and beard. But that's not even half of it yet. We were fully immersed thanks to the excellent blending of CGI that makes everything feel natural and real. Partially shot in Northern Ireland, we could feel that each area is alive with every overhead and long shot shown to us. From the practical to the computer-generated sets, there is not a scene that feels out of place, especially when you add in the dragons and the human cast to the mix, doubly so when it comes to the fight scenes. A major gripe we have with the original was the final fight; it was supposed to be an epic confrontation between Hiccup and Toothless against the Alpha Dragon. Rather than a daring battle in the sky, all we got was the protagonists zipping amongst the clouds, taking potshots whenever they could. In the remake, however, the fight scenes are more visceral and intense, and the fact that we get to see most of it adds to the intensity. However, it is not entirely perfect. Despite the animation teams' best efforts, Toothless is a tad goofy, but this is largely due to natural design rather than something that is lost in translation. Though he blends nicely with the human cast, you do notice how jarring it could be when you place him side by side with the rest of the dragons. As for the story, we noticed a few key changes that actually hurt the film. One thing that was sorely missing was Hiccup's epiphany, where our protagonist discovers that dragons are fundamentally different from what they initially assumed. Not only that, in that same scene, he discovers that dragons are not fireproof on the inside. It is a small change, yes, but we cannot deny the snowball-like implications this has at the end of the original film. There are a few gags that we are missing as well, such as Hiccup fainting after freeing Toothless, Hiccup being bound to Toothless for a night following a day of training, and much more. But these are tiny nitpicks, and barring the previously mentioned one, not much of the story is changed. But since almost everything is the same, does it really warrant a live-action remake? That's something only you can decide. Overall, 'How To Train Your Dragon' (2025) plunges us back into the world of Berk in a stunning live-action recreation that is as true to the original as it can be. Though it is a beat-for-beat retelling of the original, it adds a lot of details that further expands the world and its characters in a way that can satisfy both lovers of the classic as well as emerging fans. 'How To Train Your Dragon' will land in theatres on 12th June, 2025. What's your Reaction? +1 0 +1 0 +1 0 +1 0 +1 0 +1 0 Follow us on Instagram, Facebook or Telegram for more updates and breaking news.


Hype Malaysia
2 days ago
- Hype Malaysia
Predator: Killer of Killers Review: A Triple Threat Anthology of Carnage Through Time
You know, back when Prey was released in 2022, we were seated here, clamouring for the next logical step: a full-on showdown between the Predator and a warrior in feudal Japan. The setting, the code of honour, the katana clashing against alien tech—it just made sense. So, did we rub a magic lamp and summon a genie or something, ya'll? Because guess what, when you wish upon a star, your Disney dreams do come true. And in this case, they come wrapped in dreadlocks, holding a spine. Of course, no one's expecting a jiggling Will Smith cosplaying as Community's Tobias Fünke to show up in this historically brutal franchise (though, let's be honest, that would be hilarious if he just straight-up set the stage and used a right hook on a Yautja warrior). But under the Hulu banner, Killer of Killers makes its intentions clear right from the title. There's no metaphor, no slow burn—this is blood in the snow, mud, and fire kind of cinema. And that's the hook here. Where Prey stripped things down, Killer of Killers builds it back up into an anthology of carnage, showcasing three brutal matchups across time: Viking berserkers, feudal samurai, and WWII fighter pilots. It's a cinematic gauntlet, and the Predator walks through it like a god of war. So the only question left is: which warriors make it to the final round, and which end up as trophies? Each chapter in Killer of Killers opens with a symbol: Shield, Sword, Bullet. Not just tools of war, but metaphors for the kind of violence that defines the stories we're about to witness. These aren't just tales of survival—they're meditations on why we fight in the first place. Each human character becomes a mirror to a larger truth: What drives us to kill? Is it honor? Revenge? Duty? Survival? The film doesn't ask us to cheer for bloodshed; it dares us to interrogate it. 'Go forth among the stars and seek only the strongest prey.' We open with the Viking storyline, titled Shield. Amid the frostbitten echoes of Norse myth, we meet Ursa — a warrior forged in fire, grief, and merciless ambition. She's a towering presence, the kind of woman who doesn't just survive in a world of blood and snow, she dominates it. Her enemies aren't shown mercy. The twin arcs of her metal-rimmed shields dismember them, which whirl like spinning blades in a gruesome ballet. Heads roll. Limbs fly. And through it all, Ursa stands unflinching. Her son, Anders, follows closely behind, still learning the language of violence. But Ursa wants more than just a fighter—she wants a legacy. And when we learn the story of how her hands were once forced to drive a blade into her own father's chest, it becomes clear: she's not simply hardened by war, she was born into it. But just when you think you've seen the worst this frozen world can conjure, something else arrives—something bigger, crueler. The cold silence of the tundra is shattered by a different kind of hunter, one with no need for swords or shields. Enter the Yautja. Next, we journey to feudal Japan, and the title here is Sword—a fitting emblem for this chapter's central wound. We meet Kenji and Kiyoshi, brothers born to a warlord and raised like blades—forged to cut, sharpened by tradition, and destined to clash. From the moment we see them, we know where this is heading: a tragic tale of sibling rivalry. Think Itachi and Sasuke, but with less chakra and more blood-soaked silence. Kenji refuses to fight for succession, walking away from the legacy that Kiyoshi clings to like a lifeline. But Kiyoshi doesn't hesitate. He fights with fire, draws blood from Kenji's cheek, and carves a rift that splits them for decades. Kenji flees—not just from the village, but from the future everyone carved out for him. Two decades later, he returns after his father's passing. Still bitter. He wants to close the chapter by confronting his brother. However, the Yautja that stalks this era doesn't care for old grudges or family honor. It doesn't have time to bleed but rather to hunt for sport, not story. And what begins as a long-awaited reckoning becomes a desperate battle for survival… Finally, we land in 1941, with the chapter titled Bullet—a fitting symbol of speed, impact, and the inevitability of war. Here we meet Torres, a young American with his sights set on the skies. His dream? To be a fighter pilot, soaring above the chaos and danger. But beneath that ambition lies a reluctance. Torres is enthusiastic about flying, but fixing the machines that keep him airborne? Not so much. We get a glimpse of this when his car breaks down in the middle of a cornfield, and he calls his dad for help. His father, ever the tough but loving man, chides him—a reminder that sometimes you have to fix your own problems before you can chase your dreams. Soon, Torres is drafted into the Navy, and instead of climbing into cockpits, he's assigned to maintain planes on the ground. The tension between what he wants and what he's given simmers beneath the surface—all while a much deadlier enemy, one from beyond this world, is stalking the skies. 'They shall be your trophies.' The ideas behind these three stories? Honestly, brilliant. Much like what Prey did with the Comanche tribe, Killer of Killers taps into the power of setting—dropping Predators into distinct, brutal time periods where survival was already a daily war. Each backdrop amplifies the tension, forcing its characters to reckon not just with alien hunters, but with the violence baked into their own worlds. Just as Prey had a sharp, intentional visual language to explore its themes, Killer of Killers speaks through imagery of its own. Ursa's world is harsh and cold—her face half streaked in red, a symbol of lineage soaked in blood. But once she slays the beast and is submerged in water, it plays like a brutal baptism. A moment of cleansing. In that silence, she's no longer just a warrior—she's a mother mourning the cycle she failed to break. The bloodline she passed down, quite literally. In Sword, wind carries flowers through the air—serene, wistful, almost dreamlike—as if nature itself resists the violence between the brothers. And when that violence erupts, the flowers vanish. Only when the brothers fight together, reclaiming their bond, do the petals return. It's subtle, but deliberate. A visual metaphor for reconciliation, fragile but beautiful. There's a quiet irony in these chapter titles. Ursa is the unrelenting Viking warrior who knows only the language of violence. Yet, her chapter is given the title Shield. But she doesn't protect—not really. She leads the charge, pushes her son to kill, and only after blood has soaked the snow does she realize what a shield should have been. It's not about defense in battle. It's about protection in spirit—the kind a mother fails to offer when she's blinded by vengeance. Similarly, Sword, tied to the story of the two brothers, isn't just about combat. It's about the cut between them—that emotional gash that forms when power and legacy are prioritized over love. The title is as much about what divides them as it is what eventually unites them. There's real pathos underneath all the blood and fury. Each segment grapples with the violence of its era, how warriors are shaped—or shattered—by their codes of honor. The film isn't trying to be deep in a self-serious way, but it understands its characters enough to give the carnage emotional weight. That's especially true with Ursa, whose pain becomes the film's anchor, even as she's pitted against a hulking beast out of myth. It's no accident that the Yautja she fights is referred to as 'Grendel'—a monster of legend for a people who live and die by the sword. In this world, the Predator isn't just an alien—it's the embodiment of every warrior's final trial. We were also mesmerized by the sheer silence of Sword. Brief moments of dialogue bookend it—the tension of reunion, the heartbreak of departure—but everything in between is told through motion, breath, and glances. There's a poetry in how Kenji and Kiyoshi communicate: with grunts, gasps, and the clang of steel. The silence isn't empty; it's filled with history, resentment, love, and the aching regret of everything left unsaid. It's desperate at times, deliberate at others. In those long, wordless stretches, you don't need subtitles to understand the weight of their bond. You feel it—like a blade hovering just above the skin. Then there's Bullet. Torres isn't a hardened warrior. He's not a decorated ace or a battle-scarred soldier—he's a kid who just wants to fly, who barely knows how to fix the very machines he rides. He's the least equipped combatant, and yet he becomes the symbol of momentum, precision, and forward motion. He becomes the bullet—not because he starts out as one, but because he's forged into one through desperation and will. That's the brilliance of these titles. They're not just labels for each chapter—they're ideals the characters grow into, even if through pain, loss, or complete irony. The shield who kills. The sword that mends. The bullet who learns to aim not with violence, but with purpose. 'Become the Killer of Killers…' Now, the chapters are eventually bound together in a team-up kind of way. Does it work? Well, honestly, not really. It gave us flashbacks to those Marvel What If…? finale arcs, where every cool solo story gets mashed into a contrived ensemble moment. Sure, it ties the characters together in a grand climax, but it feels like a tonal shift—like a different movie stepped in for the last act. And while it's not bad per se, it lacks the focused emotional weight each story had on its own. As much as we were in awe, the ending did test our patience. Bringing the three survivors together felt like the film dipping a bit too deep into the 'plot armour' bucket. Even in their individual arcs, we already had to suspend disbelief as each of them managed to take down a Predator solo. But mashing them together into an arena setting? That stretched things a little thin. It's fire, no doubt—but it veers dangerously close to fanfiction logic, where the rule of cool overrides the stakes we'd been taking seriously. What did work—and work spectacularly—was the deep glimpse into Yautja culture and practice. The real thrill wasn't just watching humans outsmart these alien warriors, but getting a peek behind the mask. Their rituals. Their brutal gladiatorial arenas. Their unspoken code of proving one's worth through blood and fire. We see their leadership, their hierarchy, the almost sacred way they view combat—not just as killing, but as ascension. That's where Killer of Killers is at its most captivating: when it pulls back the curtain and reveals that the monsters are part of something bigger, older, and terrifyingly majestic. Not just hunters, but a civilization defined by challenge, spectacle, and honor. Much like Prey before it, Killer of Killers draws its creative lifeblood from the stripped-down, survivalist spirit that Dan Trachtenberg reignited in the franchise. Prey took us to the 1700s for a taut, character-first showdown between a young Comanche warrior and a brutal Predator. Killer of Killers feels like its spiritual heir—amplifying that same primal focus, but dialling the intensity up to eleven by throwing us into three epic epochs of human endurance and alien terror. Because when it hits, it is spine-tingling. The action is creative, animated splendour at its most ferocious. The Viking segment delivers a brutal tracking shot that barrels through blood and snow like a war-drum. The WWII dogfight? Pure adrenaline. It's a fist-pumping moment that finally showcases one of the Predators' most effective forms of combat: aerial warfare, done with ruthless precision. And then there's the swordfight—wooooh. Think intimate samurai choreography meets high-tech horror, as feudal blades clash with cloaked monsters in a blur of steel, speed, and snarling tension. So, is Predator: Killer of Killers the next Prey? Maybe not quite. It stumbles on cohesion with that final team-up feeling like a forced afterthought. But it stands tall as a worthy expansion of the universe—a brutal, beautiful tapestry of fight, blood, and honor. And honestly, if we could be in any timeline hunting alongside these warriors, it'd be here. In the end, Killer of Killers reminds us that no matter the era—whether the icy fjords, the cherry blossom groves, or the thunderous skies of WWII—the fight is always about more than survival. It's about what it means to be human when everything wants to tear you apart. It's wild to think that Dan Trachtenberg isn't just returning with another film later this year—but that it's another Predator movie. That's right, Predator: Badlands, starring Elle Fanning, is gearing up to hit cinemas soon, and honestly, the hype couldn't be higher. After how Prey and Killer of Killers shook up the franchise—bringing fresh perspectives, rich world-building, and a gritty survivalist spirit—there's every reason to believe Badlands will continue that winning streak. Trachtenberg's touch brought a grounded, visceral energy that redefined what a Predator movie could be, moving away from big-budget spectacle and leaning into tense, character-driven storytelling. If the previous entries taught us anything, it's that these films thrive when they blend brutal action with sharp character arcs and immersive atmospheres. So, while we're still unpacking the savage mythos and bloody legacy of Killer of Killers, we can already look ahead with excitement. If this is the new era of Predator, then sign us up. We're ready for the hunt. Get us to the chopper.