In 1979, no one could hear you scream in space; and what that meant to a lot of people was that the first installment in the wider Alien franchise was released to the masses-at-large.
Directed by the critically acclaimed Ridley Scott from a script by Dan O’Bannon and Ronald Shusett, the cold and calculating space adventure was – in all honesty – nothing more than a monster movie set in the Final Frontier. The cast included such names as Sigourney Weaver, Tom Skerritt, Ian Holm, John Hurt, and Harry Dean Stanton, all playing blue-collar workers sequestered aboard a huge spacecraft – the Nostromo – who get pulled out of suspended animation when their ship’s sensors detect the signal from a downed vehicle in proximity. After inspection, the crew finds themselves back aboard with an aggressive and unstoppable extraterrestrial biological entity that will stop at nothing to see each of them dead.
Without getting too deep ‘into the weeds,’ I recall being a bit unimpressed with this original film. Its story – while well delivered – was a bit too formulaic for my tastes; and I never got enough information to fully understand just what this seminal alien – the Xenomorph – was, why it behaved the way it did, and what its goal might’ve been. Granted, some of these open-ended questions is why the production works as well as it does – the mythology laid was only a foundation that would somewhat radically be expanded upon almost a decade later in James Cameron’s Aliens (1986) – but I, for one, prefer tales have a bit more narrative closure beyond just Ripley’s big win in the last reel. I like having my questions answered, and I’ve always seen ambiguity as a curse of inferior writing. (Again, sorry, folks, but I’m just being honest.)
So as a ‘haunted house in space,’ Alien achieves probably everything it set out to do and a bit more: the project definitely paved the way for successive entries, and audiences have returned to the multiplexes to see what more was in store for the dark view of our creature-infested tomorrow, though I’m starting to wonder how far producers are willing to go with such diminishing returns. Aliens (1986) rather fabulously re-examined what we knew and took it in surprising directions by making the sequel more of a war movie. Huge box office receipts followed. Alien3 (1992) was, largely, dismissed by fandom as a missed opportunity; and many have purposefully forgotten the existence of Alien: Resurrection (1997). (FYI: I can’t say that I blame them.) Other entries have paired up the Xenomorphs alongside another 20th Century Fox property – the Predator – to even more tragic box office disasters, and that pretty much takes us to where we are today as Alien: Prometheus (2012) and Alien: Covenant (2017) tried to stake out new territory but mostly failed because (I think) there just wasn’t enough ‘alien’ in it, along with lackluster cast additions who tried to make the franchise more about them and less about the influential monster.
Directed by the critically acclaimed Ridley Scott from a script by Dan O’Bannon and Ronald Shusett, the cold and calculating space adventure was – in all honesty – nothing more than a monster movie set in the Final Frontier. The cast included such names as Sigourney Weaver, Tom Skerritt, Ian Holm, John Hurt, and Harry Dean Stanton, all playing blue-collar workers sequestered aboard a huge spacecraft – the Nostromo – who get pulled out of suspended animation when their ship’s sensors detect the signal from a downed vehicle in proximity. After inspection, the crew finds themselves back aboard with an aggressive and unstoppable extraterrestrial biological entity that will stop at nothing to see each of them dead.
Without getting too deep ‘into the weeds,’ I recall being a bit unimpressed with this original film. Its story – while well delivered – was a bit too formulaic for my tastes; and I never got enough information to fully understand just what this seminal alien – the Xenomorph – was, why it behaved the way it did, and what its goal might’ve been. Granted, some of these open-ended questions is why the production works as well as it does – the mythology laid was only a foundation that would somewhat radically be expanded upon almost a decade later in James Cameron’s Aliens (1986) – but I, for one, prefer tales have a bit more narrative closure beyond just Ripley’s big win in the last reel. I like having my questions answered, and I’ve always seen ambiguity as a curse of inferior writing. (Again, sorry, folks, but I’m just being honest.)
So as a ‘haunted house in space,’ Alien achieves probably everything it set out to do and a bit more: the project definitely paved the way for successive entries, and audiences have returned to the multiplexes to see what more was in store for the dark view of our creature-infested tomorrow, though I’m starting to wonder how far producers are willing to go with such diminishing returns. Aliens (1986) rather fabulously re-examined what we knew and took it in surprising directions by making the sequel more of a war movie. Huge box office receipts followed. Alien3 (1992) was, largely, dismissed by fandom as a missed opportunity; and many have purposefully forgotten the existence of Alien: Resurrection (1997). (FYI: I can’t say that I blame them.) Other entries have paired up the Xenomorphs alongside another 20th Century Fox property – the Predator – to even more tragic box office disasters, and that pretty much takes us to where we are today as Alien: Prometheus (2012) and Alien: Covenant (2017) tried to stake out new territory but mostly failed because (I think) there just wasn’t enough ‘alien’ in it, along with lackluster cast additions who tried to make the franchise more about them and less about the influential monster.
Now … I didn’t dislike Alien: Romulus (2024). As a visual thrill ride, the Fede Alvarez written and directed feature hums like a carnival attraction should, though I fear it never quite figured out what it wanted to be except for a carnival attraction. Even at that, it sacrifices what originality it brings to the intellectual property in favor of mustering up bits and pieces that the Alien universe has already done before. Its best moments are, sadly, derivative, and that doesn’t bode well for giving this space saga the legs it needs to march headlong into its fifth decade in existence. In fact, in many ways I thought Romulus felt like a significant lurch backward to where it all started … and I couldn’t help but wonder why.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“While scavenging the deep ends of a derelict space station, a group of young space colonists come face to face with the most terrifying life form in the universe.”
It’s been said that every now and then a saga needs to reinvent itself in order to bring in an all-new generation of fans to sustain it for the next decade or so.
I suppose such a reality is, mostly, accurate. Star Trek: The Next Generation – while being a descendant of the Gene Roddenberry original Star Trek – is probably the entertainment industry’s preferred example. In the process of stepping boldly into the future with a new ship and a new crew, TNG’s writers and producers were able to distance themselves somewhat from the days of cowboy diplomacy Kirk and company demonstrated by having Captain Jean-Luc Picard and friends picking up the mantle of managing outer space. Phasers were more often set for stun, and it seemed as if every episode sacrificed doing something in favor of talking about precisely what to do in committee. While I’m not sure it always worked as well as it could have, the show still rather effectively painted a picture of how progress in this next generation was the result of many hands working in unison as opposed to one captain dragging society kicking and screaming into the proper, moral course of action.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“While scavenging the deep ends of a derelict space station, a group of young space colonists come face to face with the most terrifying life form in the universe.”
It’s been said that every now and then a saga needs to reinvent itself in order to bring in an all-new generation of fans to sustain it for the next decade or so.
I suppose such a reality is, mostly, accurate. Star Trek: The Next Generation – while being a descendant of the Gene Roddenberry original Star Trek – is probably the entertainment industry’s preferred example. In the process of stepping boldly into the future with a new ship and a new crew, TNG’s writers and producers were able to distance themselves somewhat from the days of cowboy diplomacy Kirk and company demonstrated by having Captain Jean-Luc Picard and friends picking up the mantle of managing outer space. Phasers were more often set for stun, and it seemed as if every episode sacrificed doing something in favor of talking about precisely what to do in committee. While I’m not sure it always worked as well as it could have, the show still rather effectively painted a picture of how progress in this next generation was the result of many hands working in unison as opposed to one captain dragging society kicking and screaming into the proper, moral course of action.
But the Alien franchise has never really been one to structure its stories around morality tales. Yes, the universe has a discernable sense of right-and-wrong – in fact, most of the wrongs are committed by the evil capitalists exploiting the various worlds of the galaxy on behalf of the Weyland-Yutani Corporation – and yet its existence in the films really only serves the purpose of giving our heroes a chance to hate their fellow man as much as they fear the Xenomorphs. Audiences never get a ‘deep dive’ into the company or any of the possible good deeds it may’ve done, so Weyland-Yutani becomes this faceless villain who – like the aliens – are present only to make life infinitely more dangerous. Because of this, I just don’t expend a lot of thought on it. It’s the usual Hollywood hypocrisy: hate capitalism at all costs … but buy our stuff.
Indeed, Alvarez opens his journey with yet one more example of the Weyland Corporation’s malfeasance, showing us a world where men and women are essentially enslaved to the whims and wishes of the company’s dirtiest business. Just about the time that Rain Carradine (played by Cailee Spaeny) thinks she’s fulfilled her employment contract and can request a transfer off world, she learns that her hourly requirements was instantly doubled because workers are in short supply owed to such inconveniences as fatigue, disease, and death. With no means to appeal the decision, the lady fears that she, too, will wind up eventually in a grave site on the distant planet.
However, this is generally the point wherein a good scriptwriter inserts an event that poses a cause for hope as well as the catalyst for the real story to unfold: lo and behold, Rain’s friends recently stumbled across the signal for what they believe is a derelict spacecraft floating high above the planet LV-410. As they suspect it to be a decommissioned Weyland ship, Tyler (Archie Renaux) insists it’ll have cryostasis tubes that they can steal and use to abandon this world in favor of an outpost on the distant Yvaga. In order to enter this seemingly quarantined craft, they need the assistance of Andy (David Jonsson), Rain’s synthetic ‘brother’ whose innate company programming will allow them to unseal all automated locks.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that – you guessed it – this allegedly empty space vehicle is going to be far from empty. What this young and inexperienced crew discovers is that this floating space laboratory was previously engaged in reengineering the original Xenomorph that Ripley herself blew out her shuttlecraft’s airlock in the conclusion of 1979’s Alien. (I know, I know, I know. You thought that monster was dead because that film showed it kinda/sorta burning up when the engines fired, and here we are anyway. Don’t blame me: I just review here.) To make matters worse, these now deceased scientists had somehow reengineered those dreaded facehuggers (the precursors to the Xenomorphs) and were storing them cryogenically; and Andy’s restarting the ship’s systems ends up thawing them out. So, Hell is about to rain down on Rain and her friends, and that’s basically what follows.
Indeed, Alvarez opens his journey with yet one more example of the Weyland Corporation’s malfeasance, showing us a world where men and women are essentially enslaved to the whims and wishes of the company’s dirtiest business. Just about the time that Rain Carradine (played by Cailee Spaeny) thinks she’s fulfilled her employment contract and can request a transfer off world, she learns that her hourly requirements was instantly doubled because workers are in short supply owed to such inconveniences as fatigue, disease, and death. With no means to appeal the decision, the lady fears that she, too, will wind up eventually in a grave site on the distant planet.
However, this is generally the point wherein a good scriptwriter inserts an event that poses a cause for hope as well as the catalyst for the real story to unfold: lo and behold, Rain’s friends recently stumbled across the signal for what they believe is a derelict spacecraft floating high above the planet LV-410. As they suspect it to be a decommissioned Weyland ship, Tyler (Archie Renaux) insists it’ll have cryostasis tubes that they can steal and use to abandon this world in favor of an outpost on the distant Yvaga. In order to enter this seemingly quarantined craft, they need the assistance of Andy (David Jonsson), Rain’s synthetic ‘brother’ whose innate company programming will allow them to unseal all automated locks.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that – you guessed it – this allegedly empty space vehicle is going to be far from empty. What this young and inexperienced crew discovers is that this floating space laboratory was previously engaged in reengineering the original Xenomorph that Ripley herself blew out her shuttlecraft’s airlock in the conclusion of 1979’s Alien. (I know, I know, I know. You thought that monster was dead because that film showed it kinda/sorta burning up when the engines fired, and here we are anyway. Don’t blame me: I just review here.) To make matters worse, these now deceased scientists had somehow reengineered those dreaded facehuggers (the precursors to the Xenomorphs) and were storing them cryogenically; and Andy’s restarting the ship’s systems ends up thawing them out. So, Hell is about to rain down on Rain and her friends, and that’s basically what follows.
Alvarez structures his film as this big race-against-time, in no way unlike how director Ridley Scott delivered the last reel of the franchise’s first outing. There, Ripley was engaged in a run against the countdown of the Nostromo’s self-destruct sequence; Romulus gives its young crew much more time to work with, but, yes, it’s still the same formula. In Aliens, director Cameron fashioned his last act mostly around Ripley’s journey both into and out of the Alien Queen’s lair; and, likewise, Alvarez has Rain and Andy needing to get in and out of a similar hive with their lives and limbs intact in the build-up to the final reel. While I wished that the parallels stopped there, the sad, sad truth is that far too much of Romulus has been seen before; the fact that its writer/director even felt it necessary to pick up lines of dialogue from previous entries and use them as callbacks here questions whom he thought he was trying to fool.
To a degree, I’ve no problem with such throwbacks. Some of the practical sets of Romulus resemble a good deal of what was pictured in Alien and Aliens, and the resulting nostalgia works occasionally. In some ways, it’s comforting to be reminded of where and when we are. This being one big cinematic destination, it’s perfectly natural and acceptable to find that some likenesses might exist despite the significant passage of time. Think of it like coming home: you know what you’re going to get once you arrive, and that’s foundationally why you’re going in the first place. Finally, it’s nice when mom tries to cook something new because not every meatloaf tastes the same, but Alvarez can’t seem to help himself. These retrogressions start to get in the way of his film’s forward progress, and I don’t think he even stopped to notice he was smothering his own ingenuity.
There’s no denying – at least, not to this SciFi fan – that Romulus looks wonderful.
While there are some sequences shot with far too much darkness and perhaps a bit too much energy, the end product still works viscerally with sequences that raise tension and perhaps get the audience’s hearts pumping as fast as that of the doomed crew. Though I could be wrong, I think all of these sets were practically built – if not, then color me surprised – and it’s damned refreshing to see that the skilled technicians in a major studio can still churn out real rooms despite the industry’s desire to see everything rendered via CGI. In fact, the only thing that’s rather obviously and embarrassingly fake in all of it is the appearance of deceased actor Ian Holm (formerly the synthetic Ash in 1979’s Alien) playing the synthetic Rook here. Sorry, folks, but while the idea might’ve been good on the drawing board, the final execution here is so God awful and pasty it might bring about the end to this whole campaign of ‘bringing back the dead digitally’ on celluloid.
To a degree, I’ve no problem with such throwbacks. Some of the practical sets of Romulus resemble a good deal of what was pictured in Alien and Aliens, and the resulting nostalgia works occasionally. In some ways, it’s comforting to be reminded of where and when we are. This being one big cinematic destination, it’s perfectly natural and acceptable to find that some likenesses might exist despite the significant passage of time. Think of it like coming home: you know what you’re going to get once you arrive, and that’s foundationally why you’re going in the first place. Finally, it’s nice when mom tries to cook something new because not every meatloaf tastes the same, but Alvarez can’t seem to help himself. These retrogressions start to get in the way of his film’s forward progress, and I don’t think he even stopped to notice he was smothering his own ingenuity.
There’s no denying – at least, not to this SciFi fan – that Romulus looks wonderful.
While there are some sequences shot with far too much darkness and perhaps a bit too much energy, the end product still works viscerally with sequences that raise tension and perhaps get the audience’s hearts pumping as fast as that of the doomed crew. Though I could be wrong, I think all of these sets were practically built – if not, then color me surprised – and it’s damned refreshing to see that the skilled technicians in a major studio can still churn out real rooms despite the industry’s desire to see everything rendered via CGI. In fact, the only thing that’s rather obviously and embarrassingly fake in all of it is the appearance of deceased actor Ian Holm (formerly the synthetic Ash in 1979’s Alien) playing the synthetic Rook here. Sorry, folks, but while the idea might’ve been good on the drawing board, the final execution here is so God awful and pasty it might bring about the end to this whole campaign of ‘bringing back the dead digitally’ on celluloid.
Ultimately, where I struggle with an adventure like Romulus is that I kept asking who is this product for? With so many obvious recalls to vastly superior films, was it intended to convince old fans – such as myself – that there’s still acid blood flowing in them there veins? As the other flicks focused on – ahem – more learned actors and actresses (meaning older), was Romulus meant to introduce only certain bits and pieces of the wider franchise to a new audience? It never feels quite original – certainly not in any way that Alien or Aliens did – but was that Alvarez’s core intent? Did he think it would rise above the noise of lesser entries and maybe reestablish the franchise with the prominence it once had? If so … then how? How would that happen by being so obviously copied?
Alien: Romulus (2024) was produced by 20th Century Studios, Scott Free Productions, Brandywine Productions, Quebec Production Services Tax Credit, New Zealand Film Commission, and a few other partners. (A full accounting can be found on IMDB.com.) The film is presently available theatrically in countries around the world. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the vast majority of the sights-and-sounds to be exceptional: there are some sub-par Special Effects in the second half – along with a wealth of action shot in extreme dark – that could’ve been better, but it is what it is at this point. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? There were no special features under consideration.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
As a one-off experience, I can’t help but think that Alvarez and his talented cast and crew might’ve been better served by taking almost everything in Alien: Romulus and morphing it into an entirely original story. Remove any and all of the associations back to the 20th Century Fox franchise and, instead, march out in some bold, new direction. In that universe, this story serves no purpose. We’ve seen it. We’ve been here. We’ve done that. Occasionally, it feels like it might’ve had the legs to do that – to go on its own road – and maybe even been something interesting if not entirely special. This young crew, their hip vibe, and their young problems just didn’t quite work the way those working-class men and women of past Alien films did; and wasting the Xenomorphs on the trials and tribulations of the 90210 club seems beneath the dignity of an IP that deserved better than what gets delivered. Again … didn’t hate it … but I’ve no reason to ever rewatch it. Ever.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for my review of Alien: Romulus (2024) as I went to the theater to see it on my own dime.
-- EZ
Alien: Romulus (2024) was produced by 20th Century Studios, Scott Free Productions, Brandywine Productions, Quebec Production Services Tax Credit, New Zealand Film Commission, and a few other partners. (A full accounting can be found on IMDB.com.) The film is presently available theatrically in countries around the world. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the vast majority of the sights-and-sounds to be exceptional: there are some sub-par Special Effects in the second half – along with a wealth of action shot in extreme dark – that could’ve been better, but it is what it is at this point. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? There were no special features under consideration.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
As a one-off experience, I can’t help but think that Alvarez and his talented cast and crew might’ve been better served by taking almost everything in Alien: Romulus and morphing it into an entirely original story. Remove any and all of the associations back to the 20th Century Fox franchise and, instead, march out in some bold, new direction. In that universe, this story serves no purpose. We’ve seen it. We’ve been here. We’ve done that. Occasionally, it feels like it might’ve had the legs to do that – to go on its own road – and maybe even been something interesting if not entirely special. This young crew, their hip vibe, and their young problems just didn’t quite work the way those working-class men and women of past Alien films did; and wasting the Xenomorphs on the trials and tribulations of the 90210 club seems beneath the dignity of an IP that deserved better than what gets delivered. Again … didn’t hate it … but I’ve no reason to ever rewatch it. Ever.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for my review of Alien: Romulus (2024) as I went to the theater to see it on my own dime.
-- EZ
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