
Alien: Earth has finally brought Ridley Scott’s frightening space creature onto the small screen, and it’s every bit as creepy as you hoped – perhaps even more.
Streaming on Disney+ from Wednesday 12 August, the new series from writer-director Noah Hawley, best known for his stellar work on Fargo and Legion, returns viewers a few years prior to the events of the original very first Alien movie. But this is not merely an eight-hour slasher; Hawley is here to mix fear, gore, identity crises, AI ethics, and corporate greed into an actual binge-worthy horror.”.
The environment is a world dominated by a coalition of five tech giants, with power divided between merciless corporations. When a Weyland-Yutani deep space research ship crash-lands into Prodigy rival-owned property, things go from worse to worse. On the ship? A very bad “dog” – and some familiar, egg-shaped cargo that most certainly isn’t full of chocolate.
Hawley maintains the franchise’s most recognized feature – the xenomorph – in the forefront, but subverts the formula. Rather than constant creature attacks, Alien: Earth employs the alien’s ominous presence to explore greater themes: what makes us human, how far AI should be allowed to advance, and if survival is even worth it. A standout new addition is Boy Kavalier, Prodigy’s eccentric founder, who decides to steal Weyland-Yutani’s extraterrestrial prize by sending his own secret weapons – Hybrids. These are synthetic bodies housing the consciousness of terminally ill children, built with incredible strength, upgradable minds, and a disturbing innocence. They’re as likely to jump off a cliff as they are to rip an alien apart, all while worrying about “getting in trouble.”
Boy Kavalier himself is a stereotypical “lonely genius” villain, a mix between Richard Hammond having a bad hair day and Bob Dylan. His reasons are uncomfortably human – he just wants to have someone to speak to, someone who understands him. It’s a warped form of romance that would be anachronistic neither in Westworld nor Heart of Darkness.
The Hybrids bring an emotional weight to the mayhem, obfuscating the distinction between predator and prey. Are they working with the xenomorph, or merely another threat? Hawley doubles down on the uncertainty, increasing tension with each episode. And though the philosophical subtext is deep, don’t think for a second Alien: Earth is light on gore. Every episode is a blood-drenched set piece, and the reimagined alien forms are more nightmare material than ever.
Production-wise, the show is hitting on all cylinders. The sound effects alone are award-worthy – the clicking of the chitinous creature, the distant monkey-like screams, and the humming of the machinery put you on edge at all times. The casting is crisp, too, from the unsettlingly childlike Hybrids to Timothy Olyphant as the mysterious robot scientist. Even comedy great Adrian Edmondson appears, though you’d never know it under the makeup and prosthetics.
Alien: Earth succeeds in injecting new life into one of the most longstanding horror franchises in cinema without diluting its legacy. Hawley’s ability to find a balance between atmosphere, character nuance, and startling violence makes it more than just a retread for devotees. Rather, it seems a risk-taking expansion of the Alien universe full of fresh lore and creepy concepts. If you’re a fan of Ridley Scott’s original vision, you’ll find plenty here to sink your teeth into – and if you’re new, brace yourself. This is not your average space drama; it’s an eight-hour descent into corporate betrayal, body horror, and pure, creeping dread.
