Watching as the epitome of extraterrestrial body horror unfolds in front of my eyes on an IMAX silver screen, I truly understood the genius of the Alien films. While the Alien franchise, initially birthed into existence by Ridley Scott in 1979, has always been first and foremost a series of sci-fi horror epics, it has never hidden its trenchant and often scathing themes and criticisms. The first Alien film tackles two major themes, which are that of birth and that of the classic concept of Man vs. Nature.
This motif of birth manages to maintain its presence throughout all of the films, as not only do we witness numerous visceral “births” of the Xenomorphs, but we also see new forms of Alien birth in all films, except for Alien 3. The theme of Man vs. Nature, on the other hand, is effectively abandoned after the first. The titular alien is revealed to be more than a mere force of the natural world, and instead new, separate iterations of the “Seven Types of Conflict” appear, the “Seven Types of Conflict” being: Man vs. Nature, Man vs. Man, Man vs. Self, Man vs. God, Man vs. The Unknown, Man vs. Technology, and Man vs. Society. In Aliens, we see Man vs. Society, a theme also heavily touched upon in Romulus. In the duology, Prometheus and Alien Covenant, the themes of Man vs. Technology and Man vs. God are touched upon heavily. However, in Romulus, those listed themes are compounded and form a foundation for the greatest conflict of all, Man vs. Self.
Upon entering the theater, having spent a week binging Alien films, and reading many in-depth (spoiler-free) reviews, I entered with relatively low expectations. I believed that the film would simply be a rehash of earlier tackled ideas and now iconic tropes that the first film had invented. Every review I had read glazed the Mise en Scene, practical effects, score, and performances from Cailee Spaeny (Civil War, Priscilla, Bad Times at the El Royale) and David Jonsson (Rye Lane, Industry), while disparaging the film for its lack of originality and uninspired characters. I left the theater both shocked and appalled at the unabashed audacity of these critics and confused as to what caused their unfounded discontent.
Following this excursion, I immediately delved deeper into these numerous reviews that had spit such acid. Yet, for the life of me, a logical answer eluded me. Did these critics simply watch a different film, or was there genuine discontent regarding the themes and originality of the movie? No matter the answer, I now believe it my duty to explore the concepts broached in the film in an accurate light. Contrary to many prior Alien films, for most of Romulus, the theme tackled is not in fact Man vs. Self, but instead Man vs. Society.
The story follows Rain, portrayed by Cailee Spaeny, a young woman living on a mining planet owned by the fabled “Weyland Corporation” alongside a broken “synthetic” (android/artificial human/robot) named Andy, who she considers to be her brother. Rain’s dream, and goal throughout the film, is to simply escape the iron grip of “the company” and leave the dark and dystopian world on which she has been confined. When her friends learn of an abandoned space station hovering above the planet, they seize the opportunity and board the station. Throughout the movie, they encounter successive obstacles, each more threatening and honestly disturbing than the last. However, the main enemy for most of the movie remains the company, until Rain discovers what was being created on the station.
In the Alien universe, which happens to be an extension of the Blade Runner canon, humans have managed to conquer the stars. But with the endless world at their fingertips, consequences manage to tag along. Disease, famine, overpopulation, and extreme class divides all plague this empire. So, in a desperate gambit at self-preservation, as is in human nature to do so, they took a shortcut past evolution. They utilized the perfect genetic makeup of the meticulously engineered Xenomorphs, and created a “life serum” that could force a human to evolve.
But, like in all fiction, when humans try to play God, they get punished for doing so. Yet, in this, it is not some all-powerful entity who does the punishing, but instead humans' own greed, hubris, and desperation. When one character in the film, Kay, played by Isabela Merced, a pregnant friend of Rain’s, finds herself injured, she does not wait to get treatment, and instead injects herself with the engineering life serum. This act of self-preservation, pure human nature, ends up destroying her, and almost dooms the surviving members of the original group, when she gives birth (in a visceral and wholly unsettling sequence) to a human-xenomorph hybrid monstrosity.
The film does not tackle its themes subtly. It does not hide its brutal reflections on the self-destructive aspects of human nature behind some impenetrable veil. It dives headfirst and unabashedly into its graphic criticisms, building a layered and fully developed sci-fi universe that serves as a conduit for these themes. Which brings me from the thematic complexity of the film to the film itself. Ignoring the potent themes and masterful criticisms, Alien Romulus is exceptional. Featuring superb performances from Cailee Spaeny and David Jonsson, expert use of Mise en Scene, and utterly terrifying monster design, Romulus adds up to be the best in the series.
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