Alien: Romulus review: Full of fan service (to a fault)

A confession: Long before Alien: Romulus, I've not been much for Fede Álvarez's brand of horror.

His reboot of Evil Dead was so grisly that I saw a colleague who deeply loves a good scary movie flee the theater in revulsion. His Texas Chainsaw Massacre was likewise dripping with buckets of blood and viscera, as was his 2016 original thriller Don't Breathe. It's not the gore alone that put me off, but more how it heightened a bleakness so intense it might well steal your breath. It seems he revels in seeing his heroes suffer, providing little hope to his audience they'll find a way out of it. That knocks the fun out of horror for me.

This suffocating grimness soured me on Álvarez's work. Frankly, I approached his spin on the Alien franchise with dread, even though I've relished this freaky franchise's blend of body horror and alien terror for decades. But I was wrong to doubt him. To his credit — and to producer Ridley Scott's as well — Álvarez's signature stomach-churning violence and deeply dark attitude are perfectly suited to Alien: Romulus. Moreover, his style suits the franchise's haunting message, in which the real villain is not the "perfect organism" that runs amok on remote spacecrafts but the inhuman corporation that exploits human suffering for profits. It's a capitalism critique that remains as relevant now as it was in 1979, when Scott first took us aboard the Nostromo. Here, Álvarez finds a fitting vessel for his darkest side. 

There's no sign of Ripley in this curious prequel, which is set between Alien and its 1986 sequel Aliens. However, fans of the franchise will relish the return of such harrowing space critters as the facehugger, the chestburster, the queen Xenomorph, and more. Alongside these iconic extraterrestrials is a crackling ensemble cast, comprised of Cailee Spaeny, David Jonsson, Archie Renaux, Isabela Merced, Aileen Wu, and Spike Fearn. But amid fresh faces, new twists, and a standout star, this entry flounders in a desperate frenzy of climactic fan service.

Alien: Romulus plays like Aliens meets Don't Breathe. 

Álvarez and co-writing/producing partner Rodo Sayagues love a story about a group of young friends, brash and dangerously naive, who go on an ill-considered quest, be it vacationing in a remote cabin in a creepy forest, creating influencer content in a notorious ghost town, or breaking into a reclusive war vet's house with plans to burgle him and get out alive. Alien: Romulus aligns most closely to the last of these, as like Don't Breathe, its setup involves a sketchy heist. 

Cailee Spaeny (Civil War, Priscilla) stars as Rain, an indentured worker on a Weyland-Yutani space colony, where disease and industrial accidents have made her and her synthetic "brother" Andy (David Jonsson of Industry and Rye Lane) orphans. So when her situationship-mate Tyler (Archie Renaux) proposes a heist that could get them to a nice space colony — one where sunshine actually exists — she's eager to sign on, whatever the cost. 

The plan is for Tyler, his pregnant sister Kay (Isabela Merced), his aggro cousin Bjorn (Spike Fearn), and Bjorn's chill girlfriend Navarro (Aileen Wu) to burgle a derelict space station floating above their colony, snatching the equipment they need to fly far, far away. But this is an Alien movie, so their plans are complicated when they come across some otherworldly pests.

Álvarez and Sayagues' soft spot for impulsive (and criminal) youth plays well in the sandbox Ridley built. Like Ripley's crew, Rain's is a motley bunch; they know how to operate this highly specialized space tech, but they're essentially blue-collar folk with simple ambitions and all-too-human impulses. They are in no way prepared for the horrors that lurk in deep space. The first act of Alien: Romulus revels in character work, like the best of the Alien movies, embedding us with people so their pain becomes our own.

For Spaeny, this means much frowning and some tough choices about loyalty and risk. For the others, franchise-familiar friction sparks over Andy's involvement, as Weyland-Yutani's artificial persons have a reputation for betraying their human colleagues when it comes to benefitting the company. But Andy isn't like the snarling Ash (Ian Holm), the stoic Bishop (Lance Henriksen), the wide-eyed Annalee Call (Winona Ryder), or even the scintillatingly strange David (Michael Fassbender). And that's exciting.

David Jonsson steals this movie. 

Spaeny is put in the Ridley-like role of the hardened heroine who's destined to fight back against a towering and terrifying queen. But her character is perhaps too much an echo of Ripley, with the rough edges of spurting rage smoothed out. Andy, however, is an interesting new spin on AI in the Alien series. Programmed by her dad, Andy's directive is to "do what's best for Rain," and that includes delivering lovably lame dad jokes. For instance: Did you hear about the claustrophobic astronaut? He needs space. (Buh-duh-dum!)

These jokes might be a bit cringe, but they're undeniably endearing. Where the rest of the cast shoulders the angst and terror demanded of this high-tension franchise, Andy is a breath of fresh air because he can experience neither. This brings some warmth into Álvarez's movie, which creates a sharper contrast: a ray of hope amid the darkness. Andy is essentially the well-meaning little brother, exerting a guilelessness that is so rare in this franchise that it shines bright like a diamond. Eventually, plot twists will complicate matters, giving Andy a glitch in his programming and Jonsson room to show his range. Without giving away spoilers, suffice to say he is absolutely riveting across this journey. 

Props to the ensemble as a whole, which rattles with raw emotion, be it wrath, hope, or horror. But by rights, Alien: Resurrection should elevate Jonsson to movie star status. 

Alien: Romulus is revoltingly frightening and savagely entertaining.

Literally, this movie had me dry-heaving.

It's not just that Álvarez leans hard into H.R. Giger's visual designs, which are a nauseating mix of genitals, generous glop, and hard, glossy exoskeletons. Though make no mistake, this movie's monsters are so sensationally rendered you can practically smell their musk. But what takes the scares here to the next level is a sound design that is loud, enveloping, and absolutely brutal — sometimes to the point of losing dialogue to it.

Props to composer Benjamin Wallfisch for a score that is nostalgic, tapping into past Alien movies with love and care, while creating an orchestral soundscape that raises goosebumps with its trills and stings. Yet the sound team, led by Lee Gilmore, owes me a good night's sleep after the hellish sounds they made echo through my skull. You can get a taste of it in the teaser. The roar of jet engines rattled me in my seat, making me physically feel like a part of this mission. The screech of relentless aliens left my spine tingling. The auditory memory of the fleshy skittering of too many legs down a hallway still makes me gag. The hiss of acid blood cutting through metal and flesh still rings in my ears. You don't just watch Alien: Romulus; you are absorbed into it. Brace yourselves.

Combining this immersive soundscape with the mindful use of Xenomorph monsters makes Alien: Romulus sensationally scary and well worth the price of admission. Unfortunately, the filmmakers fumble this marvelous build-up with a climax that is a sloppy burst of fan service.

Alien: Romulus bungles its finale with too many callbacks. 

If you thought Deadpool & Wolverine went hard on fan service, well, you're right. Alien: Romulus doesn't hit those degrees of pandering, but it does fall prey to the seemingly studio-mandated checklist for sequels.

The first half of this prequel elegantly blends the signatures of Álvarez's horror films with the well-established lore of the Alien movies, lacing in Weyland-Yutani's impact, familiar terms like "artificial person," and of course the Xenomorphs. It's all world-building; it works to establish Romulus while charting its own course. But as Alien: Romulus barrels to a conclusion, it begins to feel less like a fresh and thoughtful new adventure in this space (where no one can hear you scream), and more like a clumsy clip show of franchise highlights.

There'll be some familiar lines, and while some are subtle, one feels so forced that it sparked guffaws from the audience. Memorable shots are replicated, like the human heroine coming face-to-mouth(s) with the vicious alien queen. Plot points from previous films are reenacted with little to no innovation, so the tension of Romulus' final act becomes derailed by predictability. The character logic and action-scene geography suffers under the need to be like the other Alien movies, for better or worse. To that end, what will likely be most polarizing among fans of these films is the resurrection of a particular character who, while crucial to the plot, feels more like a cheat code than considerately included. 

As Rain races to her final moments on-screen, audience may get a bit beleaguered by her, because she's no longer forging her own path. She's doggedly following Ripley's. We've seen that movie before, and it's a great movie! But it's time for something new and as daring as the group of reckless goofs this film drew us in with. Alien: Romulus won't be sunk by its flimsy final act, but some of the thrill is lost amid the clutter of callbacks. Still, this is a movie that demands to be seen in theaters, where the volume can gobble you up like so many alien maws.

Alien: Romulus is now streaming on Hulu.

UPDATE: Nov. 19, 2024, 3:28 p.m. EST "Alien: Romulus" was reviewed out of its theatrical release. This article was originally published on Aug. 14, 2024. It has been updated to include the latest viewing options.