Here’s Why Alien: Romulus Might Just Be the Best Film in the Alien Franchise
Alien: Romulus is good, really good. As a horror movie, it’s excellent. As a sci-fi flick, it’s stellar. As the latest in a long line of alien films, well, it just might be the best of them all. I know this is a bold claim to make in a franchise spawned by a Ridley Scott classic widely considered to be one of the greatest science fiction films of all time. It’s an outrageous statement when many hold James Cameron’s action-infused follow-up to be even superior to the original. Saying Alien: Romulus is better than either Alien or Aliens might even be considered some form of sacrilege, but I’m going to say it, anyway.
Both Scott’s and Cameron’s films impacted the zeitgeist of its time. Alien: Romulus isn’t likely to exert the same influence on pop culture at a time when there’s an abundance of stories and IPs. But it’s an outstanding piece of cinema and the culmination of concepts and ideas that the Alien franchise has explored over the past four decades. It’s more terrifying than Alien, which is glacially paced and doesn’t hold up as well by modern standards. The action is on par with Aliens, helped along by an electric Cailee Spaeny, who had alien queen-sized shoes to fill, following the footsteps of Sigourney Weaver’s iconic Ellen Ripley. But what sets Romulus apart is the strength of its characters, particularly Spaeny’s Rain and her brother Andy, played to staggering perfection by David Jonsson. Rain and Andy’s dynamic is unlike anything in all of the alien films, and it’s everything.
Director Fede Alvarez lays the groundwork from the very beginning, revealing early on that the good-natured, simple-minded Andy is synthetic. This is in stark contrast to Alien, where the scheming crew member, the film’s true villain, is only revealed to be an android at the end. There’s a refreshing honesty to the reveal, and Andy is so childlike and innocent that it’s easy to feel an attachment to him. Rain also plays the part of the protective older sister so well that you’re rooting for both of them to succeed. This is a hallmark of the best horror films, which necessitates that audiences care for the characters on screen. The space truckers of Alien are a decent lot, but aside from Ripley, everyone else is just xenomorph fodder. On the other hand, the kids of Romulus are trying to escape the oppressive mining planet of Jackson’s Star, indentured to the real villain of the franchise, the Weyland-Yutani Corporation.
The gung-ho squad of Aliens is an improvement over the Nostromo crew, with memorable characters and even more memorable lines. From Bill Paxton’s Hicks yelling, “Game over, man! Game over!” to Jenette Goldstein’s Vasquez responding, “No, have you?” when asked if she’s ever been mistaken for a man, there’s a wealth of iconic moments that elevate Aliens to fan favorite status. Cameron also added an action element to the horror, a formula that resonated so well with audiences that the franchise tried but failed to recapture the magic with Alien Resurrection some 11 years later. Romulus succeeds where Resurrection fails with better and more creative action sequences. The kids of Romulus aren’t soldiers and don’t have the kind of firepower packed by the crew of the Sulaco, but they manage with what little they have, and it’s great.
There’s an urgency to Romulus that isn’t quite there for other films. The characters in other alien films are just looking to survive, from the inmates of the penal colony in Alien 3 to the colonists of the Covenant. What makes Romulus special is that everyone has something to look forward to, the hope for a better future as they escape indenture in a world where the sun is perpetually blotted out by industrial pollution. The crew attempts to escape hell only to unwittingly face an even worse fate, but beyond the need for survival is a destination. We are rooting for them to make it because we’ve seen what they have waiting for them on Jackson’s Star. It’s such a bleak and desolate existence that dying to a phalanx of xenomorphs doesn’t even seem so bad in comparison.
Rain and Andy also share a true familial bond unlike any other in the franchise, eclipsing even Ripley’s maternal attachment to Newt. What makes their relationship remarkable is that Andy is a synthetic, artificial person, but Rain treats him like her real brother, like a human. Alvarez contrasts Rain’s empathy and love for Andy with the other characters, whose attitudes range from utilitarian tolerance to outright hostility. Tyler (Archie Renaux) humors his ex-girlfriend Rain but really only wants Andy for his ability to interface with the abandoned Weyland-Yutani space station. On the other hand, Bjorn (Spike Fearn), who lost his mother in a mine collapse thanks to an executive decision made by a synthetic, taunts and bullies Andy at every instance. At an age where AI can be almost indistinguishable from real humans, there’s a remarkable humanity to Andy that flies in the face of logic. Alvarez constantly reminds audiences at every turn that Andy is a Weyland-Yutani product whose personality comes from a chip, but audiences can’t help but love him, anyway.
Ironically, one of the most self-aware synthetics in the franchise, David (Michael Fassbender), who blurs the line between programmed responses and actual sentience, is one of the most hateful characters in all Alien films. On the opposite end of the spectrum is Annalee Call (Winona Ryder) from Alien Resurrection, a synthetic built by other synthetics or an auton, who turns out to be more human than most humans. Call is an artificial being who, through self-reflection, has found faith in the divine and a strong sense of morality. Andy sits in the middle of this divide, a robot whose humanity, or lack thereof, springs from the touch of a button.
But Alvarez knows the real answer is Rain. Andy is human because Rain treats him like a human and loves him like a human. Andy’s limited intellect comes from a defective chip salvaged and reprogrammed by Rain’s late father, and this is when he behaves the most like a human. But the smarter and more upgraded he becomes, he acts less like Rain’s brother and more like a Weyland-Yutani product. It’s a clever and deliberate contrast that challenges the audience because, in times of crisis, would you rather have someone competent but untrustworthy or someone who needs rescuing but is devoted and loyal? Romulus explores these themes without being heavy-handed, coating its symbolism in a veneer of acid-blooded horror and pulse rifle rounds.
Romulus also manages to build and improve upon the theme of motherhood, which underpins the Alien franchise. There’s something very rude about the facehugger’s violation of its victims. It’s a blatant analogy for rape, and every person killed by a chest-burster is essentially a parent forced to give birth against their will. Ripley left behind a 10-year-old daughter when she left on the Nostromo, and when she’s found floating in stasis after 57 years, she learns that her daughter had grown old and died two years earlier. This scene, cut from the initial theatrical release, helps explain Ripley’s attachment to Newt. She grows into her role as mother and protector through the film until she faces off against her fellow mother, the alien queen. This is a face-off echoed in Resurrection, where we meet a horrifying amalgam of humans and aliens intended to be both terrifying and tragic. When Ripley kills the Newborn, a world-saving infanticide, it’s one of Sigourney Weaver’s most powerful performances in the series.
When Romulus pays homage to Resurrection, it replaces tragedy with terror. Whereas the Newborn can elicit sympathy despite its grotesque appearance, Romulus’ Offspring is pure malice. The fact that it doesn’t burst out through the chest but exits in a manner horrifically identical to actual childbirth is an explicit nod to the franchise’s theme of motherhood.
There are plenty of little Easter eggs for fans of the franchise. From grand overarching themes to little visual touches such as an innocuous drinking bird at the cafeteria, Alvarez has lovingly crafted a film that takes all the best parts of the Alien franchise. It is more terrifying than Alien, has more excitement than Aliens, is more claustrophobic than Alien 3, has a more nuanced exploration of life than Alien: Resurrection, and grounds the franchise back to its nuts and bolts after the high concepts of Prometheus and Alien: Covenant. It is everything an Alien fan can ask for and more. In short, it is the perfect Alien film. Its structural perfection is matched only by its rewatchability. More than almost any other Alien film before it, except perhaps Aliens, Romulus is an enjoyable, terrifying thrill ride that demands to be seen again and again and again.
