Alien: Romulus

Fede Alvarez's entry in the franchise is an entertaining if unmemorable flick

Despite approaching its 45th anniversary as a franchise, Alien has avoided the decline that has plagued series like Terminator and Star Wars. Ridley Scott attempted to revitalize the franchise in the 2010s with the more philosophical Prometheus (2012) and Alien: Covenant (2017), but fans longed for a return to the classic survival-horror roots. Enter Fede Álvarez, best known for Don’t Breathe (2016).

Alien: Romulus (2024) is set between Alien (1979) and Aliens (1986), following a group of young space miners led by Rain (Cailee Spaeny) and her android "brother," Andy (David Jonsson). Desperate to escape their exploitative working conditions on a dark, inhospitable planet, they attempt to hijack equipment from an abandoned space station—only to discover too late why it was left deserted.

Romulus takes the Alien franchise back to basics, both in its production design, sound, and visual aesthetic—closely resembling the 1979 original—and in its stripped-down survival-horror narrative. As in any slasher film, there are expendable side characters destined to be picked off by Xenomorphs and Facehuggers, while Rain and Andy receive more substantial character arcs. However, Andy’s development is hindered by a spoiler-induced shift in his persona during the second act, stalling his emotional connection with Rain and leaving their once-promising bond feeling shallow by the film’s conclusion.

Álvarez attempts to balance a return to horror fundamentals with nods to the lore introduced in Scott’s recent Alien films. This results in a clumsy CGI cameo that delivers one of the most blatant exposition dumps in recent memory. However, once Álvarez moves past the weaker storytelling elements and focuses on the horror sequences, Romulus finds its stride. The film features some of the most inventive and nerve-wracking set pieces in the franchise since the first two installments. One standout sequence involving dodging swirling acid in zero gravity is a true highlight. That said, Romulus also falls into the trap of overindulging in franchise staples, cramming in Facehuggers, Xenomorphs, and iconic lines for the sake of familiarity rather than originality.

Romulus deliberately keeps its scale small, prioritizing horror over grand mythology. This approach has both advantages and drawbacks. On the one hand, it gives Álvarez more creative freedom without the burden of disrupting franchise lore. On the other hand, it diminishes the film’s significance within the larger Alien universe. The confined scope and relatively inconsequential nature of the story make Romulus feel more like a high-budget fan film than a major franchise entry. By reducing both its narrative scale and depth of character exploration, the film ultimately lands as a fleetingly entertaining and nostalgic experience—effective in the moment, but not particularly memorable.

6.8/10