For almost 40 years, fans of science fiction/action movies have gravitated towards the Predator franchise. Beginning in 1987, when the Jim and John Thomas (Behind Enemy Lines) penned film about an extra-terrestrial, humanoid hunter who stalked humans in the jungle first appeared in theaters, the masses have been drawn to it. The success of the original movie spawned comic books, novels, video games, and four additional films, with two more on the way this year. While the latter movie, entitled Predator: Badlands, will hit theaters in November, the first of the two films is an adult, animated, stand-alone piece coming to Hulu in the United States and internationally on Disney+ beginning on June 6, 2025.

Predator: Killer of Killers is broken into three separate vignettes set in different locations and during different time frames. The first story deals with a female, Nordic Viking, and her army set out to find the man who murdered her father so she can get revenge. However, unbeknownst to them, a creature lurks in the shadows, watching and waiting. Once he pounces, her whole team, including her son, are dead, and she is enslaved.

Story number two involves two brothers somewhere in an ancient Asian country. As their father pits brother against brother, one lays down his sword while the other attacks, winning his father’s praise. The loser of the battle runs away from the kingdom, only to return 20 years later to confront his sibling. Little did they know they would need to team up to defeat the unknown entity trying to kill them.

Finally, the last vignette includes a young American man being drafted during World War II. His dream is to be a pilot, but he is relegated to mechanic. When he is handed a weapon from the alien being, he tries to figure out what it is, and when he does, he takes to the sky in an old fighter plane to warn the other pilots that what they are fighting against is not human. Ultimately, the three “survivors” end up on a different planet and are forced to fight each other, but when they team up, they end up fighting the predators instead.

Writer/director Dan Trachtenberg, who brought us 2022’s Prey, once again helms this feature film, and he does so beautifully. His take on the alien creatures gives audiences a unique story brought to life in a different way than any of the other Predator movies. He includes plenty of blood splatter and gore, but also presents the Predators as intelligent and scheming.

I will admit I’m not a huge fan of the “watercolor”-like technique used in the animation, as it blurs the lines, making the picture perhaps not as sharp and clean as it could be. While this tends to add a bit of softness to an otherwise cold and hard movie, it seems somewhat out of place with the harshness of the plot. It isn’t an anime style of animation, but it seems to be in the same family.

Predator: Killer of Killers remains solidly within the realm of the other Predator films, which makes it familiar without getting mundane. It skirts the edge of the forest while venturing down a less-traveled path, making it recognizable and different all at the same time. As an audience, we become invested in these characters, which makes the film enjoyable.

In the world of Predator, this movie stays true to the source material but gives us something we didn’t know we needed. It is a nice intermezzo between Prey and Predator: Badlands and whets our appetites for more.

Grade: A-

They say there’s no force in the world like a mother’s love — for better or worse. English thespian Sally Hawkins, whose many roles have included Paddington Bear’s adopted mom in the Paddington movies, puts her zany energy to a different and more unsettling use in this psychological horror drama from directors Danny and Michael Philippou, who brought us the fan favorite Talk to Me.

The deal

Seventeen-year-old Andy (Billy Barratt) would do anything to protect his spirited younger stepsister, Piper (Sora Wong), who is blind. He shields her from bullies and tells her about the things and people she can’t see, often fudging the less pleasant details. But he can’t mute the shock of the day the siblings discover their dad dead in the shower.

Andy insists on accompanying his sister to her foster placement, planning to become her guardian once he turns 18. Their new foster mom, Laura (Hawkins), is a colorful eccentric who lives in a state of creative disorder. She welcomes Piper with open arms, and the siblings soon learn she’s grieving her own blind daughter, who drowned in the backyard pool.

Laura is so effusive and loosey-goosey that even Andy lets down his guard. But then he notices something is seriously wrong with her other foster child, the seemingly mute Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips). And Laura doesn’t seem particularly perturbed.

What Andy doesn’t see, and we do, is that Laura obsessively rewatches a grainy VHS tape depicting a murderous ritual. Its purpose? To raise the dead.

Will you like it?

To people who don’t like the genre, all horror movies may seem equally nihilistic. But if you do like it, you probably recognize a vital distinction between horror that provokes screams of glee more than terror (Final Destination: Bloodlines, say) and horror that evokes existential despair.

The talented Philippou brothers, who got their start on YouTube, are purveyors of the latter. Talk to Me, a clever modern twist on “The Monkey’s Paw” with a protagonist who spirals into supernatural addiction, was unrelentingly grim even for me.

Bring Her Back shares that film’s central motifs of protective guardianship, unresolved grief and mounting delusion. But this time, the Philippous have made the savvy choice to divide those traits between two central characters, one of whom is easy to root for.

Once Andy discovers that their foster mom doesn’t plan to let Piper go, his conflict with Laura propels the story. As Laura’s tactics escalate — drugging, gaslighting, playing the siblings against each other — Andy’s touching and believable bond with Piper keeps us on his side, even when his grip on sanity falters.

We watch in horror, but it’s mixed with pity, because the film’s drifting point of view brings us into Laura’s secret world, too. The bizarre title character of last summer’s Longlegs was more meme than man, not real enough to be scary. By contrast, we’ve all known women like Laura, whose too-muchness teeters on the brink between endearing and appalling. And Hawkins’ unhinged performance connects us directly to her outsize emotions.

If watching this movie feels like bathing in a tub stained with decades’ worth of untraceable filth, that’s not because of anything supernatural. We never learn the details of the ritual depicted in the videotape; no paranormal “experts” pop up to offer exposition. This vagueness allows viewers to fill in the story’s gaps with their own conspiratorial theories — and many have. But the real dread sets in with the realization that it doesn’t actually matter whether the ritual works, only that Laura thinks it will.

She’s a cult of one, ruling over an airless house of madness, and the Philippous use all sorts of disorienting techniques to trap us there with the siblings. Ominous circular motifs repeat throughout the film, penning the kids inside Laura’s domain. Some shots are in extreme shallow focus, putting us in Piper’s place as she navigates a world seen only as light and shadow. Sound often deceives us, too, as voices issue from the wrong mouth.

To call Bring Her Back a downer would be an understatement. Be forewarned: The movie depicts harm to children and animals — more graphic in the former case than in the latter. Phillips, as the mysteriously afflicted Oliver, gives a harrowing performance in scenes that provoke the most primal of cringes.

But the siblings are likable, and Hawkins’ larger-than-life presence contributes continual jolts of energy, much like Toni Collette’s turn in Hereditary. Imagine visiting the quirky home of a creative type — a taxidermied dog! a chicken coop! — and gradually realizing their interests run deeper and darker than you ever imagined. The ritual may be demonic, but the horror here is all human.