I’d love to jump in a time machine and fly this movie back to the ‘90s. It’s hard to describe just how much of a beloved cult hit it would have been back in the DVD or VHS eras, not just because of the dream concept, but because it’s so slickly executed. A gloriously violent cartoon, this is not really a Predator sequel, reboot or remake, but rather a hyper-stylised ‘what if?’ spin-off. What if a Predator dropped into Viking-era Scandinavia? What about feudal Japan? What if one of my 1992 movie dreams came true?
Prey proved the Predator franchise still had bite, although I wasn’t a fan of its fake-looking VFX. Killer of Killers takes a swing at the anthology format with, as is always the case with anthologies, patchy results. Although all four of the animated shorts that make up this whole are created by the same filmmaking team, they vary in quality. Where it shines brightest is in the first two segments, before the connective tissue and heavier lore expansion becomes louder, where instead it focuses solely on kick-arse action.
From the get-go it’s clear that this isn’t just the first animated Predator film, it’s also the furthest from reality this franchise has strayed. Sure, they all feature killer aliens from outer space, but in this heightened, comic-bookish Earth analogue the human characters aren’t exactly human. They’re more like gods, able to single-handedly dispatch entire armies with superhuman strength. And the titular killer? This Predator isn’t just some tall dude in rubber and prosthetics—the animated format allows the Yautja to appear larger and more alien; more anime kaiju than stuntman in a Stan Winston-made creature suit.
The best segment is the Japan one, which—aside from a little poetry—dials the dialogue down to zero and features the most striking visuals. Contrasting meditative elegance with savage mass murder, it boasts some seriously cool ninja and samurai combat, with nods to classic Japanese cinema and even a bit of Tenchu: Stealth Assassins thrown in. There’s a subtle Mt Fuji inclusion, a refreshing ginkgo-tree motif replacing the usual cherry blossoms and even a meaningful, seated slow death in front of a sunset to close it out.
As far as Western takes on samurai pop culture go, this may sound like another tired rehash of the same old visual tropes, but impressively, it doesn’t feel that way when watching it. There’s enough inventive visual stuff going on to make this consistently interesting and exciting, with the focus, of course, being on relentless action that takes great advantage of the animated medium. There’s wild camerawork and staging that could never be done well in a live-action film, let alone the ultraviolence it revels in. Did I mention the samurai and ninja stop fighting each other to team up against a Predator? It’s a fairly surface-level sort of a thrill, but it is a thrill.
The opening Viking segment is also super bloody and fun, then it’s the third segment where things go downhill. What might you think follows the Native American warrior from Prey, then the Viking, samurai and ninja here? Perhaps a Roman gladiator, a gun-toting cowboy of the old West, or a taiaha-wielding Māori toa?
Nay, instead we get a plucky teen rookie pilot in WWII-era USA. He’s no hardened mass murderer like our other protagonists, instead just a nervous youngster who’s never seen combat. It’s an interesting idea to give us airborne combat with a Predator-piloted spaceship and there are some cool moments, but the dogfight doesn’t hit as hard as the boots-on-the-ground brutality. The tonal shift also stings, as endearing as this kid may be.
I don’t think it’s spoilery to say that sometimes the killer of killers gets killed by those it’s supposed to be killing. Also, there are killers of killers of killers, too. There’s a lot of killing going on. Predators kill humans, but humans kill plenty of humans as well, and yes, humans also kill Predators too. And so the final segment drops three victorious warriors from the earlier shorts into a battle royale on a Predator homeworld, which makes the silliness of the earlier segments pale in comparison, and also features the least interesting combat of the lot. Or maybe I was just worn down by then?
Despite its missteps, Killer of Killers is very much worth a watch. It also shows a way forward for how this franchise works: direct-to-streaming but decently budgeted animated anthologies. If they dump the overarching lore and go for pure short-form artistry, maybe share the filmmaking around a few more folks Dan Trachtenberg selects and oversees, we could get some epic stuff. Viewers of a certain age have bits of The Animatrix and Aeon Flux seared into their brains for a reason, and this is a step in that incredible direction.
But they came out at a very different time. Is it possible to become a cult classic like that nowadays? Probably not. There are moments of greatness in the likes of Love, Death + Robots and Secret Level, but we’re in a time where short-form genre storytelling is everywhere and often free. The best bits of Killer of Killers will be rewatched on YouTube as standalone snippets more than as part of their 90-minute whole, which is so much easier than fast-forwarding your videotape or skipping through your DVD.
I can’t help feeling jaded. This movie would have felt so special 30 years ago, but technology and the market didn’t allow it to exist back then. Now we can have it and it just feels like… more content. Younger me would’ve absolutely lost his mind over this. I would’ve rewatched it countless times with mates. 2025 me kind of enjoyed it just fine as one of the new movies I watched this week. That might not sound like high praise, but in this era, it kind of is.
