Listen, we’ve all been through the ringer as Predator fans. After years of convoluted sequels, reboots that missed the mark, and "hybrid" creatures that felt more like fan-fiction than horror, I think we were all a little traumatized. We spent decades watching this legendary monster get caught up in messy plots about DNA splicing and "Super-Predators." But then Prey (2022) dropped, and man... it didn't just meet expectations. It hunted them down, gutted the tropes, and took a trophy.
If I’m being honest? It’s a 9.5/10 for me. It’s the closest thing to cinematic perfection this franchise has seen in thirty-five years.
Stripping It Back to the Bone
What Dan Trachtenberg understood—that so many others forgot—is that this franchise is at its best when it’s primal. It’s not about "lore" or "galactic warring factions." It’s about the hunt. Pure and simple. By stripping away the high-tech gadgets and the modern military jargon, Trachtenberg forced the story to rely on tension rather than firepower.
Setting this in the Northern Great Plains in 1719 was a stroke of absolute genius. The wilderness isn't just a background; it feels like a living, breathing character that wants to kill you just as much as the alien does. The cinematography (shot on Stoney Nakota First Nation lands) is breathtaking, but it’s a deceptive beauty. Every rustling leaf or snapping twig carries weight because Naru doesn't have a heat-seeking missile or a Gatling gun. She has her wits, her dog, and her environment.
Naru: A Protagonist We Can Actually Root For
Can we talk about Amber Midthunder for a second? She is ferociously good. She carries this movie with a performance that is mostly physical, conveying a lifetime of being underestimated through nothing but a look or the way she breathes.
Naru isn't some superhero. She’s an observer, a tracker, and an innovator. I loved the "Thunderbird" interpretation of the ship—it’s such a grounded, culturally rich way to frame an alien arrival. It reminds us that before we had words like "extra-terrestrial," we had legends. And Sari! Shoutout to Coco the dog, who is officially the best girl in cinema history. The bond between them isn't just a gimmick; it's a tactical partnership.
What got me emotionally was Naru’s struggle to be seen by her tribe. Her "failed" hunts weren't failures; they were her learning how to fight a war no one else knew was coming. When she attaches that rope to her tomahawk, it’s not just "cool gear"—it’s a symbol of her refusal to let tradition dictate her survival. She didn't want to be a hunter just for the title; she did it because she saw the world more clearly than the warriors who mocked her.
The "Feral" Predator: Nightmare Fuel
This new "Feral Predator" design? Chills. Seeing Alec Gillis and Tom Woodruff Jr. back (the legends from the '87 original) made my fan-heart swell. This thing is leaner, meaner, and feels much more like a wild animal than a soldier. The bone-skull mask is way more intimidating than the polished chrome we’re used to—it feels ancient, cursed, and terrifyingly organic.
Watching it move through the food chain—ant, mouse, snake, bear—was such a "holy crap" moment. It’s doing its own version of a rite of passage (its kutamiya), which makes the eventual clash with Naru feel like a collision of two mirrors. Both are outcasts in their own way, trying to prove their place at the top of the hierarchy. And that bear fight? Probably one of the top three action sequences in the entire franchise. Seeing the Yautja hoist a grizzly over its head while being drenched in its blood was the moment I knew this movie wasn't playing around.
The "Orange Flower" Moment (The Nerd Stuff)
Okay, fellow lore nerds, did you catch the medicine? This is where the writing really shines. When Naru uses the tatsiya flower to "cool the blood," I actually stood up in my living room. It’s a pharmacological parallel to Dutch using mud in the first movie! It’s such a smart, respectful nod to the 1987 film without being a cheesy, fourth-wall-breaking wink.
It also highlights the "spiritual successor" vibe Naru has with Billy from the original film. Billy was the one who felt the Predator before he saw it, and Naru embodies that same ancestral connection to the land. The score by Sarah Schachner, featuring Robert Mirabal's haunting flute work, drives this home—it doesn't sound like a generic action movie; it sounds like a legend being born.
The French Trappers: The Other Monsters
The introduction of the French fur trappers was a brilliant pivot. It reminded us that the Predator isn't the only "invader" in this landscape. The contrast between the Predator’s high-tech (for the time) efficiency and the trappers' clumsy, brutal violence made the Yautja almost feel like a force of nature dealing out justice. Watching the Predator tear through them with the "Net Ball" and the "Shield" was pure fan service done right. It showed us a whole new side of Yautja technology—more physical, more tactile, and somehow even more violent.
The Ending & That Pistol (I Screamed)
The final showdown in the bog was pure tactical brilliance. It wasn't about who was stronger; it was about who understood their opponent better. Watching Naru use the Predator’s own targeting system against it was the most satisfying "Checkmate" I’ve seen in years. It rewarded the audience for paying attention to the mechanics of the mask throughout the film.
And then... the flintlock pistol. "Raphael Adelini 1715." When I saw that name, I lost my mind. Seeing the origin of the trophy given to Harrigan in Predator 2 (1990) felt like a giant, bloody hug to long-time fans. It tied the whole universe together in one simple, elegant scene, proving that these hunters have been visiting us for centuries, leaving behind fragments of their history.
Final Thoughts
Prey reminds us why we fell in love with this monster in the first place. It’s tense, it’s beautiful, and it has a soul. It treats the Comanche culture with the respect it deserves, involving Jhane Myers to ensure everything from the camp design to the language felt authentic. If you haven't watched it with the Comanche dub yet, do yourself a favor and go back. It adds a whole new layer of immersion that makes Naru’s victory feel even more legendary.
The credits show three ships coming back in that beautiful ledger-art style. Part of me is scared for her tribe, but another part of me thinks... let them come. Naru is a War Chief now. She’s seen their blood, she knows their secrets, and she has her best girl Sari by her side. Earth isn't just a hunting ground anymore; it's a battlefield they might not want to step onto again.
My Personal Rating: 9.5/10 — The best the franchise has been since Arnold left the jungle.
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