The Screen Scribe

Let’s not pretend this wasn’t on every Predator fan’s wish list: the Yautja finally doing what we’ve wanted them to do for decades, clash with history’s deadliest warriors in beautifully stylised, brutally efficient animated carnage. With Predator: Killer of Killers, the franchise finally gets ambitious in the right way, ditching the modern-day machismo and jungle grit for something bolder, bloodier, and, for the most part, smarter.

It’s not flawless, but when it hits, it kills.

Predator: Killer of Killers is a 90-minute adult animated anthology released on Hulu and Disney+ that throws the infamous alien hunter into three different historical time periods: Viking-era Scandinavia, feudal Japan, and WWII-era Europe. Each segment stands alone in story but is loosely threaded by a final, lore-heavy epilogue that hints at a greater narrative in the making.

This isn’t Saturday morning cartoon fodder. It’s gorgeously rendered, surprisingly meditative in parts, and unapologetically violent, making it one of the most stylish and ambitious entries in the franchise to date.

Let’s start with what doesn’t work, because when Killer of Killers stumbles, it faceplants.

The third and final chapter, “The Bullet,” is where things start to unravel. Compared to the visceral immediacy of the Viking and samurai stories, this segment feels both underwritten and overdirected. It tries to be clever, mixing WWII paranoia with sci-fi horror, but what we get instead is something that veers dangerously close to parody. Character motivations are paper-thin, the pacing is frantic in the wrong ways, and the animation, while still technically sound, lacks the visual confidence and moodiness of the earlier tales. It’s loud, messy, and worst of all, kind of silly.

And then there’s the epilogue.

Rather than ending on a resonant thematic note or an emotional payoff, Killer of Killers closes with a rushed attempt at world-building that’s more teaser trailer than finale. The moment it tries to shift from anthology to franchise launcher, the pacing implodes. New characters and settings are introduced without weight or clarity, and what should feel like a grand convergence of ideas instead feels like a trailer for a spin-off we didn’t ask for. It’s not that a sequel is unwelcome, it’s that the story doesn’t earn the handoff.

But enough about the misfires. Let’s talk about what this film absolutely nails, because when it works, it’s among the best Predator content in years.

First and foremost, the animation is phenomenal. Clearly inspired by the painterly, kinetic style of Arcane, it elevates the material in ways live-action simply couldn’t. Each segment has its own visual identity, but the whole anthology is unified by a rich colour palette, bold composition, and deliberate pacing. It’s not just cool to look at, it’s cinematic, emotive, and layered.

The first segment, “The Shield,” is set in the frostbitten wilds of Norse mythology’s heyday. It’s brutal, bleak, and atmospheric, pitting a lone Viking berserker against a Predator in a fight that feels more like a saga than a skirmish. There’s no forced dialogue, no unnecessary exposition, just primal survival, bone-crunching combat, and a visual reverence for the natural world. It’s Predator by way of The Northman, and it absolutely works.

The second story, “The Sword,” is arguably the high point. Set in feudal Japan, it delivers a stunning cat-and-mouse duel between a masterless samurai and an invading Yautja. It’s slower, more introspective than the Viking tale, but all the more powerful for it. The fight choreography is clean, the use of colour and silence is masterful, and the story actually manages to say something about honour and death without needing to shout. It’s the kind of thoughtful, mythic storytelling fans of Prey will immediately connect with.

Both segments don’t just show us new Predator encounters, they expand what the franchise is capable of.

Predator: Killer of Killers is proof that this franchise has life far beyond shaky cam action flicks and testosterone-soaked one-liners. By leaning into animation, it finds a visual freedom the films could never quite afford, and for two-thirds of its runtime, it delivers on that promise with style, confidence, and bone-splintering clarity.

Yes, the third act falters, and the epilogue is more boardroom pitch than satisfying conclusion. But those flaws don’t undo the sheer artistic and conceptual success of the first two entries. They’re proof that the Predator works best not as a movie monster, but as a myth, an idea, a force, an alien god of the hunt, showing up across time to challenge the best humanity has to offer.

So here’s hoping Badlands course-corrects. Because if Killer of Killers is the blueprint, we might finally be entering the golden age of Predator storytelling.

3 / 5 ✨ from the Screen Scribe.

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