4 Or More Shots From 4 Or More Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films lets the visuals do the talking!
4 Shots From 4 Texas Films
4 Or More Shots From 4 Or More Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films lets the visuals do the talking!
4 Shots From 4 Texas Films

“Here, you’re not the predator. You’re the prey.” — Thia
Predator: Badlands, directed by Dan Trachtenberg, marks a significant evolution within a franchise that has captivated audiences for nearly four decades. Known for its intense action and the enigmatic extraterrestrial hunters called the Yautja, the Predator series has continuously explored themes of survival, honor, and primal combat. Trachtenberg’s vision shifts the focus toward a more intimate and nuanced perspective by centering the narrative on Dek, the youngest and smallest member of the Predator clan. Through Dek’s journey, the film delves deep into Predator culture, ritual, and the personal struggles of one cast out from his tribe.
Dek, the youngest and smallest member of his Predator clan, finds himself exiled and cast out due to perceptions of weakness. Determined to prove himself worthy, he crash-lands on the hostile planet Genna—infamously named “The Death Planet”—where he must navigate a dangerous ecosystem full of lethal creatures and unpredictable hazards. Struggling to survive alone, Dek forms an uneasy alliance with Thia, a damaged synthetic android with knowledge of the planet. Together, they embark on a perilous journey that will test their strengths, challenge their beliefs, and redefine what it means to be predator and prey.
The chemistry between Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi and Elle Fanning as Dek and Thia is notably believable and compelling. Their performances breathe life into this unconventional duo—Dimitrius conveys Dek’s internal struggle and fierce determination almost entirely through physicality and subtle expression, while Fanning’s portrayal of Thia is richly layered with intelligence, resilience, and warmth despite her synthetic nature. Their interactions—marked by moments of tension, wit, and genuine connection—ground the narrative emotionally, making their partnership feel authentic even amid the film’s relentless action and alien setting.
At the emotional core of the film lies this evolving relationship, where Thia’s intelligence, wit, and empathy contrast Dek’s warrior stoicism. Physically bound to Dek early on, their partnership forged from necessity deepens into a profound bond that challenges traditional Predator stereotypes of ruthless isolation, opening space for exploration of trust, companionship, and mutual reliance in an unforgiving universe.
Adding to this complexity, Fanning also portrays Thia’s sister Tessa, embodying a dogmatic loyalty to the Weyland-Yutani corporation’s ruthless agenda. This dual role enriches the film’s meditation on identity, autonomy, and control, as the opposing android personas reflect divergent paths of resistance and compliance. The tension between Thia’s compassion and Tessa’s dogmatic obedience mirrors Dek’s own conflict between inherited tribal honor and his emerging personal values shaped by empathy and survival.
The narrative intensifies in the second act as the story shifts from Dek and Thia navigating Genna’s rough terrain to confronting the formidable forces of Weyland-Yutani and their synthetic android enforcers. This escalation brings broader stakes and a shift from survival to active resistance, with Dek’s combat style evolving into inventive use of the alien ecosystem’s deadly plants and creatures. His resourcefulness and adaptability are tested as much as his physical prowess.
Thia’s role grows beyond mere survival partner, serving as a moral compass guiding Dek through escalating challenges. Their deepening bond underscores themes of loyalty and defiance against overwhelming power. The rivalry between Thia and Tessa encapsulates both personal and systemic struggles, enriching the narrative’s emotional and thematic layers.
Action scenes in this act blend visceral intensity with strategic ingenuity, highlighting the evolving dynamic between Dek’s warrior instincts and Thia’s empathetic intelligence. This partnership provides an emotional anchor amid rising external threats.
Visually, while some of the VFX may not reach the technical heights of blockbuster films like Avatar, Predator: Badlands excels in blending digital effects with practical makeup and effects work. This approach makes the portrayal of Dek and the other Yautja—particularly when not helmeted—convincing and tangible. The hybrid effects allow Dek’s Yautja character to emote convincingly, adding crucial depth and relatability to a typically masked and silent character. This tactile realism enhances the immersive quality of the film and brings the Predator characters to life in a way that CGI alone might not achieve.
A distinct departure for the franchise, the film carries a PG-13 rating—a strategic decision enabled by the filmmakers’ exclusive use of non-human characters—synthetic androids and other alien beings—in violent scenes. This choice eliminates the display of red human blood, substituting blue synthetic fluids, thereby maintaining intensity while broadening audience accessibility. Although this approach softens the visceral brutality traditionally associated with the franchise, it allows for sustained creative violence and suspense without an R-rating’s restrictions. Some fans may find the absence of traditional gore reduces the raw impact and immediacy familiar to previous entries.
Throughout, the violence is intentional and purpose-driven, enriching the narrative rather than serving gratuitous spectacle. The film’s conclusion thoughtfully underscores themes of self-determination, as Dek eschews rigid tribal expectations in favor of personal autonomy, while Thia embraces an evolving identity beyond her synthetic origins.
One of the film’s most impressive achievements—and a testament to its commitment to authenticity—is the introduction of a fully constructed Yautja language. Developed by linguist Britton Watkins, who was recommended by Paul Frommer (the creator of the Na’vi language for James Cameron’s Avatar), this language was crafted with respect for the anatomical and cultural traits of the Predator species. Lead actor Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi and his fellow Yautja cast members learned to perform fluently in this language. This effort adds remarkable depth and realism to the Predator characters, creating a linguistic culture that supports the film’s immersive world-building. Scenes featuring Yautja dialogue are carefully subtitled, offering fans a fascinating and detailed glimpse into Predator communication and ritual.
Predator: Badlands is a layered, compelling addition to the saga. It pairs exhilarating action with thoughtful meditations on identity, survival, and connection. The evolving relationship between Dek and Thia, amplified by Elle Fanning’s complex dual roles, grounds the film emotionally and thematically, broadening the Predator mythos in significant ways.
Director Dan Trachtenberg has firmly cemented his position as the franchise’s caretaker, continuing a remarkable three-film streak following the critically acclaimed Prey and the animated Predator: Killer of Killers. Each installment boasts distinctive narrative voices and innovative approaches that have successfully engaged and expanded the fanbase. Trachtenberg’s vision skillfully balances honoring the franchise’s core elements with fresh storytelling, ensuring Predator remains vital and intriguing for both longtime followers and new viewers alike.
Predator Franchise Reviews
Since today’s scene came from Over the Top, it seems only appropriate that today’s scene should come from it as well.
Every moment returns again in time
When I’ve got the future on my mind
Know that you’ll be the only one
Meet me halfway
Across the sky
Out where the world belongs
To only you and I
Meet me halfway
Across the sky
Make this a new beginning of another life.
In a lifetime
There is only love
Reaching for the lonely one
We are stronger when we are given love
When we put emotions on the line
Know that we are the timeless ones
Meet me halfway
Across the sky
Out where the world belongs
To only you and I
Meet me halfway
Across the sky
Make this a new beginning of another life.
[Instrumental interlude]
Meet me halfway
Across the sky
Out where the world belongs
To only you and I
Meet me halfway
Across the sky
Make this a new beginning of another life.
In the wake of Zohran Mamdani’s victory in New York City and Graham Platner’s possible victory in Maine, I’ve become a lot more interested in watching anti-communist films. And really, it doesn’t get more anti-communist than a movie about an independent, non-union trucker who has no interest in being an authoritarian and who only want to be left alone so that he can raise his son and make a little money arm-wrestling.
In this scene from 1987’s Over The Top, Lincoln Hawk (played by Sylvester Stallone) explains the importance of turning his hat. That’s all it takes.
Hi, everyone! Tonight, on twitter, I will be hosting one of my favorite films for #MondayMania! Join us for The Wrong Tutor, starring Vivica A. Fox!
You can find the movie on Prime and then you can join us on twitter at 9 pm central time! (That’s 10 pm for you folks on the East Coast.) See you then!
As a film lover, there are three letters that strike fear in my heart. U. F. C.
Seriously, directors — especially male directors — love the UFC and Mixed Martial Arts in general. If I had to guess, I would say that in another few years, there will be no more boxing movies. Sorry, Balboa. Sorry, Creed. You’re going to be replaced by movies that are exclusively about men kicking each other in a cage and then pounding on each other once they’re down. I’m not even saying that’s a bad thing. Obviously, the sport has a lot of fans. In the future, when Conor McGregor is doing double duty as both the President of Ireland and the Pope, a lot it will be due to the popularity of MMA. I have to say, though, that I almost always seem to find films about MMA and cage matches to be a little bit boring, unless they star Jean-Claude Van Damme or, in some cases, Lou Ferrigno. I prefer boxing movies. I guess I like my fights without the little kicks.
The Smashing Machine is a biopic of Mark Kerr (played by Dwayne Johnson), an MMA fighter who, the film tells us, was one of the early pioneers of the sport. When he’s first seen in the film, he’s being interviewed about his success in the UFC. We see a few clips of him fighting and watching his fists fly, we understand why he’s known as The Smashing Machine. He’s known for his ability to end fights quickly. He assures the interviewer that he doesn’t hate any of the men that he fights. (“Is he okay?” Mark asks about an opponent after one particularly brutal beat down.) Mark leaves the United States for Pride, which is Japan’s version of UFC. Not long after arriving in Japan, he discovers that Pride has changed its ruled to disallow almost all of Mark’s techniques because Mark was ending the fights too quickly.
One thing that we notice about Mark is that he’s always smiling and that he seems to have a rather low-key personality for someone who makes his living as a fighter. It’s easy to see that he’s holding back a lot of his emotions and that he gets those emotions out in the ring. When he’s not fighting, he’s living in a nice home with his girlfriend, Dawn (Emily Blunt). He’s a bit of a control freak, worrying about the cat getting on his couch, telling Dawn exactly how to make his protein shakes, and obsessing over the way a cactus is growing outside. Mark may be a fighter but he also constantly worries about his “tummy,” which is apparently overly sensitive. Mark is also a drug addict, popping painkillers like candy and shooting up in his bathroom. When Mark and Dawn argue, his temper can flare and he can go from being soft-spoken Mark to the someone who can tear a door off of its hinges. After Mark loses his first fight, he sinks deeper into depression and then tries to get clean. Complicating things is that Dawn is still using and Mark is preparing for his next fight in Japan.
For all the anticipation and the hype that surrounded its release, The Smashing Machine is an uneven film. It’s not necessarily a bad film but it is a film that leaves the viewer feeling somewhat detached from the action, on the outside looking in. Dwayne Johnson gives a good performance as Mark and Emily Blunt gives a good performance as Dawn but they’re never quite believable as a couple. (In fact, I would argue that Johnson’s best dramatic performance remains his nearly silent but physically powerful turn in the unfairly overlooked Faster.) Because the film is based on a true story and, I imagine, also because the film was directed by Benny Safdie, The Smashing Machine avoids a lot of the traditional cliches of the sports film. It’s very much an A24 film, wearing it’s indie aesthetic like a chip on its shoulder. I have to admit though that, while watching the film, I missed a lot of those cliches. There are some good scenes scattered throughout The Smashing Machine but there’s also not much narrative momentum.
That said, I do have to say that the film’s ending, which feature the real Mark Kerr shopping for groceries, did bring a smile to my face. He’s someone who has been through a lot so seeing him smiling and debating which cut of beef to purchase was definitely something of a relief.
As some of our regular readers undoubtedly know, I am involved in hosting a few weekly live tweets on twitter and occasionally Mastodon. I host #FridayNightFlix every Friday, I co-host #ScarySocial on Saturday, and I am one of the five hosts of Mastodon’s #MondayActionMovie! Every week, we get together. We watch a movie. We snark our way through it.
Tonight, for #MondayActionMovie, the film will be 1987’s Over The Top! I picked it so you know it’ll be good.
It should make for a night of fun viewing and I invite all of you to join in. If you want to join the live tweets, just hop onto Mastodon, find the movie on YouTube, Tubi, or Prime hit play at 8 pm et, and use the #MondayActionMovie hashtag! The watch party community is a friendly group and welcoming of newcomers so don’t be shy.
See you soon!

“A fight to the death… only one will live… and the survivor… will face me!” — Grendel King
Hulu’s Predator: Killer of Killers signifies an ambitious and stylistically bold evolution of the Predator franchise, once again directed by Dan Trachtenberg following his excellent 2022 film Prey. Trachtenberg has clearly become the new creative caretaker of this series, bringing fresh vision and depth to the franchise. This animated anthology spans three distinct historical periods—Viking-era Scandinavia, feudal Japan, and World War II Europe—and tells the story of humanity’s ongoing, brutal clash with the alien hunters. By setting the predator mythos across such different cultures and eras, Trachtenberg presents a compelling exploration of survival, legacy, and adaptation.
The film unfolds in three chapters, each focusing on a different protagonist. The first segment introduces Ursa, a Viking mother consumed by grief and vengeance, who soon encounters a Predator in a primal battle that tests her strength and will to survive. The second segment is largely silent, centering on estranged brothers—a samurai and a ninja—in feudal Japan, who must unite against the alien menace. The final chapter shifts to World War II, following Torres, a Latino mechanic who seizes a chance to become a pilot amid chaotic battles against the Predators. Each story is steeped in its cultural milieu, aiming for depth and texture despite the limited runtime.
Visually, the film leverages a painterly animated style reminiscent of acclaimed adult animations like Arcane and Spider-Verse, yet it carries a darker, grittier tone suitable for the Predator universe. This style allows for intense, stylized violence—gore, blood, and brutal combat—which the anthology format showcases spectacularly. The distinct visual aesthetics of each era—from the somber shadows of Viking times, the flowing elegance of Japanese landscapes, to the metallic intensity of WWII dogfights—remarkably serve the film’s atmospheric ambitions. Notably, the Predators themselves are designed to reflect the atmosphere of each segment: the hulking, brute force Predator in the Viking-era matches the raw, physical brutality of that time; the lithe, agile Predator in feudal Japan suits the stealthy, precise combat of the samurai and ninja; and the grizzled, veteran pilot Predator in the WWII segment complements the aerial warfare and war-hardened theme. While some viewers may find the animation style unconventional compared to live-action, it delivers a fresh and inventive energy, allowing for spectacle and mood impossible in a traditional film.
Trachtenberg and screenwriter Micho Robert Rutare invest effort in creating emotionally grounded characters despite the anthology’s compressed storytelling. Ursa’s portrayal as a grieving mother brings weight to her arc, the Japanese chapter uses sibling rivalry and silence to evoke tension and tradition, while Torres embodies hope, determination, and cultural representation in a largely unexplored protagonist archetype for the series. The Predator itself remains a fearsome, vigilant hunter. Yet this film adds layers by examining how violence and survival shape human experience across eras, giving thematic weight beyond simple action thrills.
The film delivers relentless and varied action, ranging from poetic, skillful duels in Japan to brutal, visceral fights in the Viking and WWII chapters. Its anthology structure allows exploration of different combat styles and settings. However, this rapid pace sometimes sacrifices emotional depth and character development, making the stories feel like glimpses rather than fully realized narratives. Regarding the WWII segment, I found Torres’s character problematic; he often seems to succeed less through skill or ingenuity and more through luck or circumstance, embodying a “failing upwards” trope that weakens the audience’s emotional investment in his narrative. His frequent self-dialogue also disrupts the tone established by the near-silent Japanese chapter, creating a jarring shift that detracts from the overall cohesion.
Another notable aspect is the anthology format itself: while it enables a rich diversity of storytelling across periods and styles, the film’s roughly two-hour runtime limits how deeply each segment can develop. This leaves viewers craving more time to fully explore the characters and settings. In this respect, Predator: Killer of Killers might have been better served as a four-episode limited series rather than a single anthology film. Such a format would have allowed each segment to breathe, providing more room for nuanced storytelling and emotional engagement without making the runtime feel excessive. Stretching this anthology into a feature film already pushes its length near two hours, and adding more time to fully flesh out each story could have pushed it close to three hours, which might have been challenging for a theatrical or streaming movie. A limited series would have accommodated this expansiveness, letting each era’s story flourish while maintaining pacing and cohesion across episodes.
Though the film culminates in a grand finale combining the protagonists, the climax is somewhat chaotic and lacks coherence, which diminishes its impact. Notably, the movie ends on an unresolved note that doesn’t fully tie up the main storyline but instead clearly hints at a future sequel. While this open-ended conclusion may frustrate viewers seeking closure, it sets up anticipation for what lies ahead under Trachtenberg’s continued direction.
A fun piece of trivia is Michael Biehn’s inclusion as one of the voice actors in the film. With his role as Vandy in the WWII segment, Biehn has joined a very exclusive club: he is just the second actor to be part of all three iconic 1980s sci-fi franchises—Alien, Predator, and Terminator. Known for his roles as Kyle Reese in The Terminator and Corporal Dwayne Hicks in Aliens, Biehn’s presence in Killer of Killers cements his unique legacy alongside fellow actors Lance Henriksen and the late Bill Paxton, who both previously held this sci-fi trifecta distinction. Director Dan Trachtenberg deliberately cast Biehn as a nod to this legacy, making his involvement a meaningful Easter egg for longtime fans.
While Predator: Killer of Killers marks a striking artistic and narrative effort within the franchise, it is not without flaws. The anthology format, while innovative, sometimes feels like a drawback—it limits how much the film can dig into each character or setting fully. The weakest link remains the WWII chapter and its protagonist Torres, whose arc doesn’t quite deliver the same resonance and often feels contrived. The finale’s lack of narrative closure may leave some feeling unsatisfied, though it promises more to come.
Despite these negatives, this film confirms Dan Trachtenberg’s role as a visionary leader for the Predator franchise, blending genre thrills with cultural specificity and psychological insight. For fans and newcomers alike, it offers a unique, stylized, and intense take on the alien hunters—the best the franchise has offered in many years. The film’s ambition and creativity outweigh its shortcomings, setting a foundation for a promising future for Predator under Trachtenberg’s direction.
Today’s scene that I love comes from my favorite film of all time, 1972’s The Godfather.
In this scene, Kay Adams (Diane Keaton) has moved on and is working as a teacher. Suddenly, Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) shows up. He’s been back from Sicily for a year and he’s working with his father. Michael promises her that the Corleone family is getting out of the rackets. We, of course, know that is never going to happen.
It’s my birthday so today, here are four shots from my four favorite films!
4 Shots From My 4 Favorite Films