Pop Mythology Pop Mythology: Movie, Book, Comic reviews & commentary
Despite having seen almost every film in the series, the Alien franchise is one that I’ve never felt a particular fondness toward. In fact, given the brutality of the subject matter and the tendency of characters to not survive long enough to make it to a second let alone third or fourth film, it’s mildly baffling that audiences feel such nostalgia toward the series. It’s not like these H.R. Giger-produced monstrosities are likely to cause any warm feelings beyond the acid burning through their victim’s skin. Maybe it’s in the sheer innovation of Ridley Scott’s 1979 original film which introduced the now iconic Xenomorphs in all their facehugging and chestbusting grotesquery. Or maybe it’s in the way that James Cameron’s Aliens transitioned the franchise from sci-fi horror to action while still expanding the lore with warrior aliens and their queen. Whatever the case may be, by the time I’d managed to watch my first Alien film, 1992’s much maligned Alien 3, the franchise had already started a decline that has continued through a crossover series, a pair of prequels, and innumerable spin-offs and clones all of which diminish the initial terror, failing at what made the first film such a landmark. Or, in the case of its best sequel, Aliens, fundamentally altered the nature of the original work.
However, after watching Alien: Romulus, it feels as though I may finally understand the appeal of the series. It’s not about nostalgia or even world-building, it’s in the dramatic irony of seeing these killing machines slither through the background, the claustrophobic tension as every shadow becomes a danger, and the sudden rush of adrenaline as characters we know won’t survive to the next film come face-to-face or face-to-unmentionable with a monster yanked straight out of our own primal fears. Cliché as it is, the best Alien films really are like a roller coaster. We see the rise in the track, hear the click of the chain, feel the tension of the inevitable fall and yet, when that fall comes, it still takes our breath away. Perhaps more than anything else, and even more than any other horror franchise, Alien benefits from its own inevitability.
Image: 20th Century Studios.
Romulus wisely wastes little time on set-up with its background, characters, relationships, and stakes all established within the first twenty minutes. Having watched the original years ago for a university film class and then Aliens for the first time one night ago, as preparation for this latest film, it’s refreshing to see an Alien film finally understand that by now the audience doesn’t need long explanations for what these creatures are and how our characters meet them. The franchise itself is older than much of its audience. We know the horrors the Xenomorphs carry with them. A big part of the dread we feel is watching characters who lack this knowledge slowly catch us with the rest of us. Thankfully, unlike recent entries in the franchise, Romulus includes some characters who are actually worth caring about, even those we know will only meet a grizzly end.
More than the Xenomorphs, the most common element of the Alien franchise is the female protagonist, also known as The Ripley. For Romulus, this character Rain Carradine (Cailee Spaeny), whose parents both died under employ of the infamous Weyland-Yutani Corporation and who is likely the suffer the same fate herself as her work hours are extended in a Yossarian-like satire of company control. While never matching the physicality of Sigourney Weaver’s debut in Alien, Rain demonstrates the same determination which initially made Ripley such an icon. With that role covered, the Alien checklist is furthered filled by David Jonsson as Rain’s adopted brother/android protector Andy. Fresh from his film debut in last year’s wonderful Rye Lane (seriously, this movie is great. Watch it.), Jonsson’s gentle and dim-witted demeanor does an admirable job of winning audience sympathy toward Andy and Rain. Having the protagonist chase away a group of boys beating on her simpleton brother may be the most obvious way to gain audience favor but, face it, the Alien franchise is staggeringly obvious. Yet where Jonsson’s performance truly shines is when a turn in the story shifts him away from his caring, damaged programming and toward a colder more utilitarian stance akin to other androids in the series. Archie Renaux, Isabela Merced, Spike Fearn, and Aileen Wu round out the remainder of the young cast and while none of their characters are fleshed out …so to speak… many of them do make for able bodies …so to speak.
Image: 20th Century Studios.
Let’s be real here, no one watches an Alien movie for deep character studies or examinations of interpersonal relationships. We go to see those characters be scared, hunted, and inevitably die at the hands of acid-bleeding monsters that would give Freddie Krueger nightmares. Whereas recent Alien-related films, particularly those in the prequel Prometheus series, seem hell-bent on overloading the franchise with unnecessary origin stories and pseudo-philosophical claptrap about humanity’s role in its own demise, Alien: Romulus understands that at their core the Alien films are and have always been creature features about the most terrifying monsters in movie history. To borrow a current phrase, Romulus knows the assignment. And Romulus completes the assignment.
Having already established his horror bonafides with 2013’s remake of Evil Dead and 2016’s Don’t Breathe, director and co-screenwriter Fede Álvarez crafts the closest thing the franchise as ever had to Scott’s original. The parallels are at times so obvious that some viewers may find it derivative or trending too heavily on nostalgia (again, I don’t understand nostalgia for faceless elongated skulls with mouths within their mouths but I also generally don’t understand nostalgia so what do I know?) yet Álvarez’s fundamental understanding of what makes a great Alien film is so strong that even those of us who aren’t aware of or are indifferent to the various allusions and homages can still enjoy a return to the franchise’s roots, complete with the 1970’s vision of low definition monitors, clunky computers, backlit cooling systems spewing out clouds of chilled air, and automated doors that open at the speed most needed for suspense. Like the Nostromo before it, the dual stations of Romulus and Remus provide the perfect setting for claustrophobic terror, sudden reveals, brutal encounters, and openings for characters to ominously advise others to “Run.” There is even a pervasive countdown to absolute disaster to further heighten the tension and provide for several spectacular closing visuals.
Image: 20th Century Studios.
If nothing else, Alien films have always looked good. Or, whatever the repellent version of “good” is. Upon release, Alien was a not so much a visual feast as a visceral shock. Aliens expanded into even more immersive practical puppetry and some of the best gunfire sound effects ever. Even the transition to computer effects provided Prometheus with enough striking imagery and spectacle to make it worth seeing. With its mix of practical alien effects and computer-based space visuals, Romulus is like a melding of the best of the entire franchise into a single entry. The Xenomorphs themselves are of course terrifying, and the years and refinements have removed the obvious fake features which date the earlier films, but advances in computer graphics make the universe itself equally if not more of an inevitable threat. Sadly, de-aging technology still hasn’t reached the point where a returning character doesn’t look like an animated figure trapped in the real world (the uncanny valley version of Who Framed Roger Rabbit), but the facehuggers especially are depicted in all their gruesome glory. However deep one wishes to dig into the Alien mythology, the facehuggers are a terrifying portrait of brutal evolution, and one scene in particular seems ripped from the worst kind of Japanese animation. Or the best, if that’s your thing, I’m not here to judge.
Image: 20th Century Studios.
Where Romulus most deviates from the Alien formula is in the film’s final act. Although the basis of these scenes is laid out in earlier films, the execution of it may leave some purists doubtful and some viewers disengaged. Personally, I found this sequence to be a fitting climax to not only the film itself but to each of the films preceding it by both introducing a terrifying new creature and providing a breathless final twenty minutes of desperation and disaster. The sequence is almost too fun to be frightening with constant obstacles delaying what we know is inevitable. This is, after all, an Alien film. Yet this segment still provides the movie’s single most effective jump scare as the opening image of virtuoso bit of POV filmmaking that seems stolen directly from a video game. Divisive as it may be, this ending sequence serves to solidify what was already a thorough satisfying film.
It only took forty years and an entire franchise, but Alien finally has a sequel – a true sequel – worthy of the original. I’m sure obsessives will eagerly dissect every bit of perceived lore, and perhaps themes will emerge upon further consideration, but for right now Alien: Romulus succeeds at just being a solid, enjoyable ride. No need to add anything more than that.
