After "Prey" and "Killer vs Killer," Dan Trachtenberg dared to create an even bolder reimagining, turning the Predator story into an adventure action film in the spirit of early Lucasfilm and Marvel. The result is unexpectedly fresh, daring, and surprisingly fun—not at all what fans expected. But this is no reason to be sad. The buddy dynamic, which has become the heart and soul of the picture, is built in organically, and the PG-13 rating does not prevent brutal action from confidently driving adrenaline through the veins. We tell you why this film deserves your attention in our material.
Outcast Not Alone
The film opens with panoramic shots of Yautja Prime, the home planet of intergalactic hunters, where power is based on strength and clan discipline. The landscapes reflect its grandeur and at the same time emphasize the alien nature of this universe, reminiscent of a perverse version of "Dune." And the meditative musical theme with a drawn-out throat singing enhances immersion in the atmosphere of a world where technological progress coexists with primitive orders.
In the first minutes, we see a young predator named Dek being defeated in a sparring match with his brother Kвей. This episode shows without further ado that weakness is not honored among the Yautja. After losing the fight, Dek hears from his brother that he is "not Yautja" until he obtains a worthy trophy and proves his right to a place in the clan with blood.
As a future trophy, Dek chooses the most hardcore goal—the legendary Kaliska monster, which lives on the "planet of death" Genna. No Yautja has ever defeated this beast, and even their formidable father preferred not to mess with it.
Dek doesn't lack ambition, although he is not like other members of his species. Scrawny, short, and with defective tusks—almost a mistake of nature, an unworthy son of the clan. The father sees shame in him and orders Kвей to get rid of his younger brother. He disobeys, shows mercy, and pays with his life. He dies at the hands of his father, but manages to launch the ship with Dek straight to Genna at the last moment.
After landing, Dek quickly understands why Genna is called the "planet of death." As soon as he sets foot on foreign land, he is attacked by predatory flora, and living roots drag away most of his equipment. Everything here wants to kill you—the grass is as sharp as a razor, the spiky ears of corn act like mines, and small larvae explode at the slightest touch. And this is just the flora—somewhere nearby are lurking winged, toothed, and frighteningly huge creatures that inhabit these wild expanses.
But fate intervenes, and very soon Dek finds an unexpected ally in the face of a synthetic named Tia, played by Elle Fanning. Or rather, half of her—the most talkative half: the poor thing from Weyland-Yutani lost her legs, but manages to pull the hero out of another deadly scrape.
Tia has been surviving on Genna for two years and knows everything about the local fauna. She was created specifically to study the planet, so she has increased sensitivity, unexpected emotionality (by the standards of synths), and easily switches to the Yautja language to establish contact with Dek.
It is worth noting that Dek speaks Yautja throughout the film—this gives the proceedings an additional level of authenticity. The atmosphere only benefits from this, but the viewer should be prepared to read subtitles. Fortunately, Dek is a man of few words, so this does not interfere with viewing and does not cause discomfort.
In exchange for advice and information, Dek reluctantly agrees to take Tia with him to Kaliska's lair—especially since her torn legs remained somewhere there, which she dreams of returning. Of course, the proud hunter is not ready to recognize her as a full-fledged partner and continues to convince himself that Tia is just a "useful tool," and the hunt is still going according to the rules—alone.
From this moment on, the film turns into a fascinating road movie across a wild planet, where a harsh Yautja warrior and a talkative synthetic girl are forced to survive side by side. And I must say, such an unusual duet works amazingly. The silent and formidable Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi and the ironic Elle Fanning perfectly complement each other on the screen—and you literally fall in love with this union from the first minutes.
Chemistry arises between them instantly, and it is she who makes "Planet of Death" special. Trachtenberg at the same time works surprisingly competently with the "halved" Fanning—this approach sets a special type of interaction between the characters and becomes the source of several inventive action episodes, and sometimes the funniest moments of the film.
Initially, the director builds their relationship on contrast, but gradually leads to a mirrored harmony. Tia speaks non-stop, comments on every action, jokes about her stern companion, and he answers only with short phrases or a gloomy look. But behind this external coldness, the warmth of mutual understanding gradually appears. Both are exiles in their own worlds, both are trying to prove that they are capable of more than expected of them, both have actually lost their families and are trying in their own way to find it again.
However, they do not go the whole way alone. A little later, they are joined by a funny animal, resembling a mixture of a monkey and Sonic the Hedgehog, which functionally plays the role of Grogu for our predator from the Mandalorian clan. But this is a completely different story—from the realm of spoilers.
Screening of a Non-Existent Game
In its structure, "Planet of Death" resembles an adventure action game. The film is actually built like a big quest: the hero goes through a series of deadly "levels" on the way to the final boss, gradually pumps up and gets stronger, following the internal logic of the narrative.
Personally, when watching, I was reminded of a parallel with God of War (2018)—including thanks to the music of Sarah Schachner, in whose soundtrack Scandinavian motifs are heard, developed by her back in the days of Assassin’s Creed Valhalla—although Trachtenberg himself, according to him, was inspired by Shadow of the Colossus.
But since we have a film with a much more modest timing, the pace of the narrative sets a frantic rhythm, almost leaving the viewer no time to rest. One hundred and seven minutes fly by in one breath—the picture is full of action and does not contain a single extra scene.
Each fight, each test, and even the smallest detail work for the common cause: they reveal the characters through interaction or natively present the context so that the viewer does not have any questions about where something came from. Everything is built with such precision that at some point I seriously wanted to exclaim to the whole hall that the director is a damn genius. Why exactly—spoiler, so just take my word for it.
There is really a lot of action in the film, but Trachtenberg skillfully alternates tense episodes with short breaks, giving the viewer time to catch his breath, feel the atmosphere, catch the emotion—and does not linger on this longer than necessary. Thanks to this rhythm, the film does not sag for a minute. On the contrary, at the end of the session you want more—not because something was missing, but because everything turned out so exciting that you don’t want it to end.
Separate scenes of "Planet of Death" give that very feeling for which many fell in love with classical heroic science fiction. In some places, the film feels the spirit of old "Star Wars" or early Marvel, where even a predictable plot based on the monomyth of the hero's journey was perceived with delight thanks to accurate and inspired implementation. "Planet of Death" honestly follows genre traditions, but does it wisely, striving to find a balance between spectacle and emotional stress, between primitive cruelty and almost "Disney" adventure.
Virtual Cruelty
Trachtenberg turns Genna into a living organism—both beautiful and dangerous, with wild flora, changing biomes, and a sense of the predatory breath of the planet itself. However, at times this beauty lacks saturation: the spaces seem too empty, and the palette is muted, as if faded.
The visual style works for the atmosphere, but lacks individuality—it is easy to guess the features of dozens of other paintings in it, which is why Genna is not remembered as an independent artistic image. But the very idea of a predator planet certainly deserved more.
It is gratifying that with all the less gloomy tonality, the film remains surprisingly brutal. Even with a PG-13 rating, Trachtenberg does not hide the cruelty: heads still fly and break through here, like ripe watermelons; spines are torn out with a crunch, limbs are cut off, while not human blood is already pouring, but bodily fluids of synths and Yautja.
All this leads to another conclusion—almost all the action in the film is created by means of computer graphics. And although the budget of one hundred and five million (the largest in the history of the franchise) is impressive, it was still not enough for a completely flawless production and editing. "Soap" breaks through to the screen from time to time, especially in the most dynamic scenes.
However, this does not prevent you from being imbued with the chaos of what is happening, because in general everything looks and sounds juicy, tactile and mesmerizing. Even through the digital fog, you can feel the weight, danger and energy of what is happening. As a result, during the entire session, I never looked at my watch and was not distracted by the phone—and in our age of endless notifications and digital noise, this is perhaps the best compliment that can be made to a film today.
Diagnosis
"Predator: Planet of Death" is another bold experiment by Dan Trachtenberg and, perhaps, the most original. If you look at his conditional "trilogy"—from "Prey" to the animated "Killer vs Killer," it is clear that each new project does not cancel the previous one, but offers its own point of view on the franchise and the mythology of the Yautja. It's like he's testing the series for strength, pulling it out of its usual swamp and proving that it's capable of more than an endless cycle of "soldiers against an invisible monster."
Despite the shifted focus, "Planet of Death" retains respect for the spirit of the original and at the same time expands the boundaries. For the first time, we see the native world of the Yautja, observe their culture from the inside, and most importantly, we follow how one of them goes through a personal drama and internal growth. This is something that previous films in the franchise have never allowed themselves to do.
At the same time, "Planet of Death" does not try to seem more profound than it is, and honestly copes with its main task—to entertain the viewer. This is a cheerful adventure with a fresh look, bright characters, warmth and humor. Everything is accompanied by energetic action, so neither lovers of spectacles nor connoisseurs of lore are left behind. Before us is a pure popcorn action movie, made so well that it does not need a second bottom to prove its right to life and a place in the cult franchise—even if it is not at all like what we used to see in it before.
