“Alien: Romulus” and the Large, Lazy Problem of the “Legacy Sequel”

From an overreliance on nostalgia to a lack of creativity, the legacy sequel of the “Alien” franchise is a thorn in the side of the film industry’s future.

Dec. 18, 2015, was an important day for many people — it was the release of one of the most anticipated films ever made: “Star Wars: The Force Awakens.” Grossing over $2 billion and nominated for five Academy Awards, the film received vehemently positive reviews from critics and audiences alike. But today, the reception around the film is nowhere near as jubilant as it was during its release. Although still well-liked, it is undeniable that the story of “The Force Awakens” is strikingly similar to the original 1977 “Star Wars.”

Almost 10 years later, walking out of “Alien: Romulus,” there is an incredibly similar feeling; however, the nostalgic blindness I had in 2015 has worn off. “Alien: Romulus” is another “legacy sequel,” a term describing a sequel in a film series that is often distant from its last entries, usually featuring a cast of both new and returning actors from the franchise. 

Legacy sequels have dominated the box office for over the past decade — “The Force Awakens” wasn’t even the first, with “Tron: Legacy” and “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” releasing years beforehand. There’s also “Jurassic World,” “Terminator Genisys” and “Creed.”

Legacy sequels aren’t inherently bad; in fact, some of the most beloved films of recent memory, like “Blade Runner 2049” and “Top Gun: Maverick,” are both legacy sequels. However, legacy sequels do tend to be consistent with incredibly lazy, riskless films. 

Unfortunately, “Alien: Romulus” is another frustrating legacy sequel, made even more frustrating by the fact that elements of “Romulus” are actually truly great. Its production design is stunning and lovingly crafted — undoubtedly, a lot of care went into capturing the iconic aesthetic of the original film, from its retro-futuristic computers to its bulky, lurching space vessels. 

Furthermore, complementing the production design is equally striking cinematography, atmospheric sound design and phenomenal effects, both practical and CGI in nature — except for one glaring issue in the film that we’ll get to soon. With all these aspects of the film working so well, it is so dumbfounding that the story, structure and overall creativity of the film nose bombs around the halfway point. 

Our two central characters, Rain (Cailee Spaeny), an orphaned miner, and Andy (David Jonsson), an android that Rain’s father reprogrammed to protect his daughter, are incredibly well-acted and personable. In particular, Jonsson’s performance adds another nuanced and fascinating android character to the likes of previous “Alien” films, with Michael Fassbender in “Prometheus” and Lance Henriksen in “Aliens.” The first act of “Romulus” works extremely well, establishing the choking grip of the Weyland-Yutani Corporation on its dispensable working class, which is slightly tone-deaf due to 20th Century Studios being a part of Disney, which isn’t particularly known for being a bastion of worker’s rights.

Once Rain and Andy reach the titular Romulus station, along with a gang of other characters who act as great xenomorph cannon fodder, the initial sequences involving the facehuggers, the terrifying spider-like first form of the xenomorph, are incredibly tense and well-directed. It’s not until the characters discover a familiar — and horribly CGI-ied — face that the film completely reveals the path it will take. This legacy character is (spoilers) Ian Holm, the British actor who portrayed Ash, the android, in the original “Alien” film. The problem with Holm being in the film is that he died in 2020, with his last film appearance being in the third “Hobbit” film 10 years ago.

Holm’s widow did give Fede Álvarez, the director of “Romulus,” her blessing to include Holm’s likeness in the film, and I truly believe Álvarez has no ill intentions. As Álvarez described, “In the last 10 years after “The Hobbit,” Ian Holm felt like Hollywood had turned its back on him, and his widow felt he would have loved to be a part of this…he loved this character in particular.” However, there is something truly wrong with the digital necromancy on display. At its best, it is bizarre, uncanny and embarrassing, and at its worst, it is completely devoid of morals. 

Holm could have wanted to star in this film, but once someone passes away, they cannot consent to their likeness being used because they physically no longer exist — this might be a foreign concept to Hollywood executives. Putting artists to work on a CGI nightmare of a beloved actor is not only a waste of their talents, but a terrible precedent to set for audiences. 

Holm’s reveal was particularly not well-received in my theater, as it was met with mumbles and a couple of groans. Do we really want any actor to be revived as a CGI monstrosity, just to parade their corpse around the screen for the audience to clap that they recognize it? Not only does it appear that the executives making these decisions think the audience is stupid, but they continue to do it. 

Two other cases of heinous digital necromancy come to mind. The first is “Ghostbusters: Afterlife,” an ironic title, considering the late Harold Ramis wasn’t allowed to rest in peace without being CGI-ied on the screen to, manipulatively, pull the heartstrings. As The Guardian film critic Charles Bramesco explained, “To speak in broad terms, a crucial ethical line is crossed whenever computer technology starts marching around the ghostly form of a dead person, doubly so when that person was famous for their smirking irreverence and their digitally reanimated corpse instead arrives just in time for a movie’s most nauseating cornball moment.”  

The other glaring example is the frankly evil hellhole of “The Flash,” which had multiple dead actors revived, including George Reeves, one of the earliest actors who played Superman during the 1950s. Reeves was an actor who was typecast as Superman and desperately wanted to escape being known for the role until he died in 1959. “Romulus” continues to perpetuate this fad of digital necromancy, while pushing the legacy sequel laziness. 

By the halfway point of “Romulus,” it goes off the rails, constantly paying homage to a myriad of previous “Alien” films. The film almost feels like it loses all faith in itself, resorting to pulling out old tricks. The final act, in particular, is the most excessive and contrived, with Spaeny’s Rain becoming a straight copy-cat of Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley, to the point where she’s touting the same outfit from “Aliens.” Furthermore, Andy re-quotes — in a clunky way — “Get away from her, you bitch!” It doesn’t hold any of the same weight from “Aliens,” and then most egregiously comes the final sequence of the film. 

The final moments of “Romulus” are the exact same as the original film, almost beat to beat, with the only change being the threat. If it looks like a xenomorph, attacks like a xenomorph and quacks like a xenomorph, then it’s just a xenomorph. Just throwing a slightly different paint job on the monster isn’t as mind-blowing as the film wants the audience to interpret it, and it’s once again disingenuous and lazy. 

Despite all these considerations, “Alien: Romulus” has been very well-received by both audiences and critics alike. It’s great to see people enjoying the film, especially considering “Alien” fans haven’t gotten a film in the franchise this well-liked since “Aliens.” Álvarez is undeniably a talented filmmaker, and it will be exciting to see what he does next; however, the feeling of “The Force Awakens” lingers over “Romulus” like a dark cloud. 

I sincerely doubt “Romulus” will age well — once the rose-tinted glasses come off, the nostalgic gloss of the film will wear off. Is this what we want as filmgoers? Temporary films that give us a large dopamine rush that becomes artistically and emotionally ineffective within a decade? That’s not what “Alien” or “Aliens” is, as those films will be talked about decades from now. 

Sequels, or even legacy sequels, aren’t bad — but not taking risks and not allowing artists to actually create, especially by latching onto the past through reviving the dead, is the true problem. As for the “Alien” franchise, if it can’t truly evolve into something interesting, then it’s time to shoot this franchise out of the airlock.