In a desolate mining colony, a group of young individuals find themselves trapped, toiling away for the Weyland-Yutani Corporation. Their dreams center on escape, preferably to another planet far from their grim reality. Together with Rain (Cailee Spaeny), an orphaned young woman, and her synthetic “brother,” Andy (David Jonsson), an android, they meticulously craft a plan to break free. Their scheme involves reaching a derelict spaceship and utilizing its hypersleep chambers to endure the long journey. However, the station is not as abandoned as they hoped; it has become a colony overrun by Xenomorphs and facehuggers.
David Jonsson as Andy in “Alien: Romulus”
The Enduring Horror of the Alien Franchise
The screams echoing from the depths of space have become commonplace. Ever since Ridley Scott’s “Alien” captivated audiences in 1979, the franchise has undergone numerous transformations, shifting genres, directors, and audience reactions. (It’s an unspoken rule of etiquette to pretend that “Alien 3” and “Alien Resurrection” don’t exist.) James Cameron brought gunpowder and a soldier’s spirit, David Fincher faced clashes with producers, and Jean-Pierre Jeunet delivered avant-garde bordering on the pathological. It seems that the “Alien” series knows no bounds, a sentiment readily acknowledged by Sir Ridley Scott himself, for whom “Prometheus” and “Covenant” were not merely genre films but philosophical generalizations, opportunities to ponder the nature of creator and creation, androids, and electric sheep.
Xenomorph in “Alien: Romulus”
Federico Álvarez’s Vision: A Return to Roots
Uruguayan director Federico Álvarez is a seasoned horror filmmaker. He approaches “Romulus” with the same fervor he brought to the “Evil Dead” reboot a decade ago. With the claustrophobic thriller “Don’t Breathe,” any lingering doubts vanished: Álvarez is not just a franchise fanatic given access to a film set but a true visionary and professional. Hellish demons, killer branches, and terror escalating into a nauseating spectacle all unfolded at his command, triggered by the opening of the Necronomicon. Álvarez enters the world of “Alien” with similar energy: the camera races through the rusty interiors of the ship, an army of facehuggers attacks the teenagers, and the reproductive program becomes not a blessing but a curse.
Cailee Spaeny as Rain in “Alien: Romulus”
“Romulus”: A Brutal Slasher with Heart
“Romulus” is a visceral slasher, pure organic horror that Álvarez creates without prejudice and, most importantly, with a love for the genre. The young crew’s hardships predictably lead to infighting, Spaeny’s character—a 26-year-old Ripley for a new generation—grows stronger as she navigates the ship’s compartments, guns jam at the worst moments, and doors slam shut. The seventh film in the franchise embraces straightforward techniques, and the familiar tropes don’t feel tiresome; the heavy-handedness of old-school horror is more convincing than verbose discussions about gods and acts of creation. The film takes the best elements from the first two “Alien” movies, positioning itself squarely between them in both plot and style. Some may complain that Álvarez doesn’t invent anything new, simply mixing the best images like a skilled DJ. Others, on the contrary, will recognize that “Romulus” has unique genre contours. Álvarez creates the most terrifying episodes with his unique touch, alternating between silence and noise, Benjamin Wallfisch’s electronic scores, and the frantic screams of the young protagonists. The critics’ praise is genuine: this is a truly nerve-wracking and frightening film.
Retro-Futuristic Design and Lasting Impact
What will undoubtedly stun audiences is “Romulus”'s meticulous visual design. Álvarez doesn’t feel constrained by modernity; his film is fueled by retro-futurism. The framing is reminiscent of 40 years ago. The sets feel tangible, years of dust settle on the instrument panels, and emergency lights pierce the dim interiors of the ship—a mechanical and organic hell—creating a beautiful outline. The world of “Romulus” is not only a biomechanical nightmare where reproductive motifs reach a new level of execution but also a film with the lost spirit of the 70s and 80s, when the world on screen felt material, you could almost touch the spacesuits, and feel the drops of sweat on every muscle of the heroine. Perhaps the “Alien” universe will not offer anything new or venture into uncharted waters. But when a coven of crawling creatures appears on screen, sirens wail, and guns fire, the question answers itself: the franchise’s ship is racing towards the planets of H.R. Giger. And it cannot deviate from its course.