Prey (2022): A Thrilling Return to the Predator Franchise's Roots
Prey (2022), directed by Dan Trachtenberg, revitalizes the Predator franchise by going back to basics—stripping the story down to its primal essence while adding rich cultural depth and fresh perspective. Set in 1719, long before the events of the original 1987 film, Prey delivers a lean, suspenseful, and visually stunning survival tale that pits a young Comanche warrior against one of cinema’s most iconic extraterrestrial hunters.
The film follows Naru (played by Amber Midthunder), a skilled tracker and aspiring hunter living in the Northern Great Plains with her Comanche tribe. Though underestimated by her male counterparts, Naru is determined to prove herself. Her chance comes when she senses a powerful threat lurking in the wilderness—what others assume is a bear or lion turns out to be something far more terrifying: a Predator, an alien species that hunts for sport using advanced weaponry and brutal efficiency.
As Naru tracks the creature, she witnesses the carnage it leaves behind—not only animals but also French trappers and warriors from neighboring tribes. What sets Prey apart is its focus on resourcefulness and instinct. Naru doesn’t overpower the Predator with brute force; she learns, adapts, and uses her environment to survive. Her arc is a compelling tale of empowerment, resilience, and intelligence, and Midthunder’s performance is both fierce and nuanced, making her a standout protagonist in the franchise.
Visually, Prey is breathtaking. The film makes excellent use of natural landscapes—wide shots of misty forests, open plains, and flowing rivers highlight the raw beauty and danger of the setting. The cinematography, by Jeff Cutter, embraces the earthy tones of early America, contrasting the natural world with the alien’s sleek and deadly presence. The action scenes are choreographed with clarity and intensity, avoiding overuse of CGI in favor of grounded, visceral combat.
One of the film’s most notable strengths is its cultural authenticity. The depiction of Comanche life is respectful and immersive, with much of the dialogue available in the Comanche language dub, a groundbreaking move for a Hollywood production. Native consultants and cast members helped shape the story to reflect historical accuracy and Indigenous worldviews, giving the film emotional and cultural weight.
The Predator itself is redesigned slightly to reflect its earlier evolutionary stage. Though still brutal and technologically superior, this version of the creature feels more primal, hunting with slightly less advanced tools. Its cloaking ability, heat vision, and trophy-hunting ethos are familiar, but the stripped-down tech makes the confrontation more grounded—and more terrifying.
Prey succeeds where many modern franchise entries fail: by telling a self-contained, character-driven story that honors its origins while carving out a bold new identity. It’s a survival thriller, a coming-of-age tale, and a historical action film rolled into one, all while delivering the high-stakes tension fans expect from the Predator name.
In conclusion, Prey is not just a great Predator movie—it’s a great movie, period. With a strong lead, smart direction, and meaningful cultural representation, it reclaims the franchise’s primal power and leaves audiences hungry for more.
