Badlands’ Right After ‘Predator’ 1987- WTF Happened To This Franchise?

I just watched Predator: Badlands right after seeing the original 1987 Predator movie for the first time; what on earth happened to this franchise? After neglecting the beloved action series for many years, I finally got around to watching the ‘80s classic in preparation for the new Predator: Badlands. While monster movies have never been my particular niche, a long-standing love for Dune and Star Wars has me craving any epic space opera I can find. This made Dan Trachtenberg’s latest installment much more appealing, and while I do plan on watching the rest of the franchise, there’s a bizarre contrast between the two films I have seen that I can’t get out of my mind.

Predator: Badlands isn’t just an evolution for a long-standing sci-fi action franchise; it’s emblematic of a constantly shifting world of blockbuster cinema. I admire Trachtenberg’s willingness to take a familiar IP and completely shift the aesthetic for new audiences. Generally speaking, the planet-hopping space opera is more appealing to me, but with that being said, there’s something to be missed about an era of films where Arnold running through the jungle was enough to satisfy. While we can praise Badlands and its successful reception, it’s also worth exploring what’s been lost.

The Road From ‘Predator’ to ‘Predator: Badlands’ Shows the Development of Action Movies

20th Century Studios

In the 38 years separating Predator and Predator: Badlands, the film industry has changed tremendously. That’s no secret, and I’m not blowing anyone’s mind by saying it. However, when comparing two films like these side-by-side, it’s much easier to understand the exact mechanics of what has changed.

An aspect of Predator I deeply admired was that the film’s climactic action sequence, a one-on-one duel between Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Dutch and the Predator, is completely silent. Compared with the recent film, which barely lasts a minute without a joke or a cute alien animal noise to break the tension, it’s deeply impressive to see an extended sequence that holds attention without dialogue. The scene is dynamic while not relying on gimmicks to maintain entertainment value; it’s meditated and delicate, and it works profoundly well, capturing the essence of the hunt.

Predator features a barely spoken Cold War setting. The context is there, but it’s not bogged down by exposition. This is the jungle, the heart of darkness, and the setting speaks for itself. It’s simplistic, but also powerful. In the post-Denis Villeneuve era of science fiction films inspired by Arrival, Blade Runner 2049, and Dune, building a world is no longer about the unspoken thematic undertones but about sprawling computer-generated landscapes that pose as cinematography.

I’ve long criticized the modern blockbuster for always going bigger. An escapade into the jungle is no longer enough, and a story must be taken to space, hop between planets, include nods to other franchises, and introduce future plotlines. Predator: Badlands’ cliffhanger ending offers excitement for the future, the Alien connections offer hope for an AVP revival on a bigger, more elaborate scale, and the interplanetary setting allows for expansions in world-building and lore for audiences to sink their teeth into. However, what’s lost is the self-contained beauty of that original film.

Predator is a 90-minute venture that ends with Dutch defeating the extraterrestrial foe. This movie never needed a sequel, but the Yautja were a fascinating enough villain to merit one, and so a sequel came, along with multimedia expansions, reboots, and spinoffs. I’m not going to say this is an inherently bad thing; that would be ridiculous. I just want to admire the beauty of a self-contained story that’s released into the world and can stand alone simultaneously as a work of art and a piece of timeless entertainment.

‘Predator: Badlands’s Biggest Weakness is Blockbuster Conformity

Elle Fanning hangs from a tree in Predator Badlands

With that in mind, I don’t want to be too harsh on Predator: Badlands, as, while its story and themes are much simpler, it still works as an individual narrative about family and companionship. I suppose my main wish is that films wouldn’t underestimate their audiences. Maybe the industry needs these IP connections to survive in an era where so many audiences just want to watch movies on streaming, but the need for constant action and fast-paced shots that almost entirely eliminate the potential for blocking is like watching the film industry give in to the supremacy of short-form internet content.

Perhaps I’ve become a 26-year-old boomer, but I believe Predator: Badlands is an awesome movie bogged down by the standards of 2020s blockbuster filmmaking. It’s an exciting story with compelling world-building, evidently a labor of love from someone who loves this franchise and loves science fiction, that conforms to the homogeneous trends of lesser filmmakers and cinematic style. Overall, I’m happy to have seen it, and I hope Predator: Badlands gets people to the theaters, but what I’d really like is for Dan Trachtenberg’s next project to take things up a notch. The original Predator was a game-changing, influential film, while Badlands is derivative of everything that’s come before it.