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Writer's pictureDan Brooks

Alien: Romulus (2024)– A Cynical Journey Through the Nostalgic Abyss of Space Horror

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.



Here we are, floating once again in the unforgiving vacuum of space, where every creak, every shadow, every glint of metal reminds you that you’re light-years away from anything resembling safety. Alien: Romulus lands us smack in the middle of this timeless nightmare—a place where technology meets terror, and human frailty is laid bare against the backdrop of the infinite. If there’s one thing we’ve learned from this franchise, it’s that space is less about the final frontier and more about the final stand against the universe’s most malevolent life forms. And believe me, folks, this film drives that point home with the force of an airlock slamming shut.


This isn’t just another trip down memory lane; it’s a calculated return to the core of what made Alien an indelible mark on cinema. Fede Alvarez takes the helm this time, guiding us through a film that’s as much a homage to the original horrors as it is a statement on our perpetual fascination with what lies beyond—and what inevitably comes back to haunt us.


Let’s start with our leads, because in space horror, your cast is often the last line of defense between suspense and farce. Cailee Spaeny takes center stage with a performance that’s equal parts vulnerability and steely resolve. She’s not your typical Hollywood heroine, and that’s precisely what makes her compelling. Spaeny brings a sense of realism to her role—an understanding that in space, your chances of survival aren’t bolstered by witty one-liners but by sheer will and a fair bit of luck.


David Jonsson and Archie Renaux round out the ensemble, each bringing their own shades of existential dread to the table. Jonsson plays the level-headed realist, the kind of guy who, in another life, might have been the voice of reason in a boardroom instead of a crumbling space station. Renaux, on the other hand, embodies the youthful bravado that we’ve come to expect in these films—a character who believes that courage and a little ingenuity can overcome any obstacle, right up until reality takes a vicious bite out of him.


These actors are more than just fodder for the next big scare—they’re the anchors that keep us invested in the narrative. And while their characters might not have the depth of, say, Ripley or Dallas, they’re the right fit for this particular story. In Romulus, it’s less about who these characters are and more about how they react when the universe turns on them.


Plot: The Uncomplicated Terror of Space Exploration


The plot is straightforward enough to be distilled into a single sentence: A group of young space colonists stumbles upon a derelict space station and subsequently unleashes the most terrifying life form in the universe. It’s the kind of setup that doesn’t require a detailed backstory or convoluted motives—just the cold, hard reality that some places are abandoned for a reason, and curiosity often leads to something far worse than mere disappointment.


What Alien: Romulus does exceptionally well is its pacing. Alvarez doesn’t rush to the scares; instead, he lets the tension build, inch by agonizing inch. The film starts with a slow burn, a creeping sense of dread that gradually tightens its grip. By the time we reach the third act, the tension has ratcheted up to an almost unbearable level, delivering a payoff that’s both inevitable and horrifying.


This isn’t a film that’s interested in exploring the metaphysical implications of encountering alien life or the ethical quandaries of space colonization. No, Romulus is a straightforward descent into madness—a tale of survival where the only rule is that there are no rules, and the only outcome is blood, sweat, and terror.


The Visuals: A Masterclass in Practical Effects and Cinematic Nostalgia


In an era where CGI often dominates the visual landscape, Alien: Romulus stands out for its commitment to practical effects. Alvarez made a deliberate choice to use physical sets, practical creatures, and miniatures wherever possible, and the result is a film that feels grounded in a way that so many modern blockbusters do not. There’s a tangible weight to the environments, a sense of place that CGI just can’t replicate. The creatures themselves are nightmares brought to life, their movements unsettlingly organic, a testament to the skill of the effects team who also worked on Aliens (1986).


But the real visual triumph of Romulus lies in its ability to blend the old with the new. The film is steeped in nostalgia, drawing heavily on the aesthetic of Ridley Scott’s Alien and Blade Runner—that gritty, industrial future where technology is both a marvel and a menace. There are moments in this film that feel like they’ve been plucked straight from the late ‘70s, infused with the grime and grit of that era’s vision of the future. Yet, Alvarez isn’t content to merely rehash what’s been done before. He fuses these elements with modern sensibilities, creating a world that’s both a tribute to the past and a harbinger of new horrors.


And let’s talk about those “sticker shot” moments—scenes so beautifully composed that they could be plucked from the screen and framed as art. Whether it’s the silhouette of an alien against the dim glow of emergency lights or the stark contrast of blood against cold, sterile metal, Alvarez knows how to frame a shot for maximum impact. These are the kind of visuals that linger long after the credits roll, haunting you in the best possible way.


Easter Eggs and Homages: A Franchise Steeped in Its Own Mythology


For fans of the franchise, Alien: Romulus is a treasure trove of Easter eggs and references. Some are subtle, the kind of thing only a die-hard fan would catch—like the design of the emergency communication stations, a nod to the Alien: Isolation video game. Others are more blatant, practically daring you to miss them. It’s clear that Alvarez has a deep respect for the source material, and he’s not shy about showing it.


But here’s where the film walks a fine line. While these references are sure to delight fans, there’s a danger in leaning too heavily on nostalgia. At times, Romulus flirts with the edge of self-parody, where the homages become less about honoring the past and more about retreading old ground. There are scenes in this film that feel like they’ve been lifted directly from earlier installments, and while they’re executed with precision, one can’t help but wonder if Alvarez is playing it a bit too safe. After all, there’s a difference between homage and repetition, and Romulus skirts that line a bit too closely for comfort.


What Didn’t Land: Character Depth and Plot Consistency


As much as there is to admire in Alien: Romulus, it’s not without its shortcomings. Chief among them is the lack of character depth. While Spaeny, Jonsson, and Renaux deliver solid performances, their characters never quite escape the confines of archetype. They’re more defined by the situations they’re thrust into than by any inherent personality traits. This isn’t necessarily a dealbreaker—after all, horror has always thrived on thin character sketches—but it does leave something to be desired, particularly in a franchise that gave us characters like Ripley, whose complexity added layers to the narrative.


There’s also the small matter of a plot hole near the film’s conclusion—an inconsistency that, while not glaring enough to derail the entire story, does leave a lingering question mark. It’s the kind of thing that makes you pause, briefly pulling you out of the immersive experience that Alvarez has so carefully constructed. But let’s be honest: if you’re dissecting plot points in a movie about acid-blooded aliens hunting humans in the depths of space, you’re probably missing the forest for the trees.


And then there’s the sense of déjà vu that permeates certain scenes. While Alvarez’s reverence for the original films is commendable, there are moments where Romulus feels like it’s playing a greatest hits compilation rather than forging its own path. It’s a delicate balance—one that Romulus doesn’t always manage to maintain.


The Creative Vision: Alvarez’s Place in the Alien Legacy


Let’s step back for a moment and consider the broader context. Fede Alvarez is no stranger to horror, but stepping into the Alien franchise is a different beast altogether. This is a series with a legacy, a mythology that has been carefully constructed over decades. Alvarez approaches it with a mix of reverence and ambition, aware of the giant footprints he’s stepping into but unafraid to leave his own mark.


One of the most striking aspects of Romulus is its adherence to practical effects—a conscious decision by Alvarez to bring back the tangible terror that defined the early films. By enlisting the special effects crew from Aliens (1986), Alvarez grounds the film in a physical reality that modern CGI often fails to capture. It’s a bold move, and one that pays off in spades. The creatures in Romulus aren’t just visual effects; they’re tangible, horrifying entities that feel as real as the actors sharing the screen with them.


But Alvarez doesn’t stop there. He draws heavily from Alien: Isolation, a video game that reintroduced the world to the gut-wrenching terror of being hunted by an unstoppable force. By incorporating elements from the game—such as the “Emergency” communication stations—Alvarez not only pays homage to the franchise’s extended universe but also creates a sense of continuity that binds these different iterations of Alien together.


And yet, despite these connections to the past, Alvarez is careful not to upset the canon. With input from James Cameron himself, Romulus fits seamlessly into the larger Alien timeline, occupying a space between Alien (1979) and Aliens (1986) without stepping on the toes of what came before or after. It’s a careful balancing act, and one that Alvarez handles with the precision of a seasoned acrobat.


Final Verdict: A Welcome, If Flawed, Addition to the Franchise


So where does that leave us? Alien: Romulus is a film that understands its roots, respects its legacy, and delivers the kind of suspenseful, terror-laden experience that fans have come to expect from the franchise. It’s not without its flaws—chief among them the shallow character development and occasional lapses into repetition—but these are minor quibbles in the grand scheme of things.


Alvarez has crafted a film that pays homage to the past while carving out its own identity within the Alien universe. It’s a reminder of why we fell in love with this franchise in the first place—the tension, the terror, the relentless sense of impending doom. Romulus might not reach the heights of Alien or Aliens, but it stands as a worthy successor, a film that captures the essence of what made those movies so iconic while pushing the narrative forward in new and unsettling ways.


Rating: 8.5/10


Alien: Romulus is a film that will delight longtime fans of the franchise while also welcoming new viewers into its cold, terrifying embrace. It’s a journey into the abyss that you won’t soon forget—just don’t expect to come out the other side unscathed.



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