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After watching Chinese Box (which only recently made its Blu-Ray debut in Australia, as part of the Imprint collection), it's not totally surprising the film did not initially resonate with lots of viewers, as it is not a stereotypical film. The director himself in the special features describes the finished product as 'not very structured.'
The film can feel like a documentary at times, with literal footage of Hong Kong, collected by the crew, inserted throughout, as the narrative happens around them. Some of this can be off-putting - like images of fresh fish cut up at the meat market. Delicious!? However, this also adds to the film's authenticity. This documentary style is further evident in the cinematography, which often takes on a found-footage vibe, with some of the characters picking up cameras and recording the goings on around them during their jaunts.
Moreover, I can acknowledge how some viewers may feel unfulfilled by the time the credits roll. As regular film goers, we want our happy endings; we want to experience rich character arks; we want to be awed and surprised. Chinese Box doesn't always give us these however, and may leave some viewers feeling empty. The character's journeys here can feel incomplete; the narrative can feel only half-finished - keep in mind, we are only having a snap shot of Hong Kong and its inhabitants during a specific period.
The film is stuck in time, between 1996 and 1997, during the British hand-over of the city to the Chinese mainland. It feels like a genuine passion project by the director, Wayne Wang, and his nostalgia and melancholy is very much evident in the characters and story.
John (Jeremy Irons) is a journalist who has lived in Hong Kong for 15 years, and yet still feels like an alien there. Irons is excellent at showing a wealth of emotions, including longing, frustration and defeat, and you totally feel for his character. John works alongside his lothario friend, Jim (Ruben Blades), documenting Hong Kong during its transitional period.
John is also hopelessly infatuated with Vivian (Gong Li), the film marvelously capturing a sense of 'la douleur exquise' - the torturous pain of loving an unattainable person, Irons narration furthering this. Vivian is a bar owner from the Chinese main-land with a - shall we say - shady past. She wishes to start a family with wealthy businessman Chang (Michael Hui), who could provide for her the lavish lifestyle she dreams of.
While documenting the city, John happens upon Jean (Maggie Cheung), a disfigured native of the city, whom he wishes to learn more about. He grants her the opportunity to share her stories, one of which mirrors his; a love story, between her and an Englishman, William (in a cameo role by Jared Harris).
Not long into the film, John learns he is grievously ill. The fear he feels for his own mortality not only makes his desire to romance Vivian that much harder, but also works as a metaphor for the demise of the British rule of the city.
Much of the characters are representations or metaphors of themes or aspects of Hong Kong and China; Jean is a metaphor of Hong Kong's mystery and creativity (just like the Chinese puzzle box the film derives its name from); Vivian represents the rich Chinese heritage and the sacrifices made for a better life; and Chang represents the rich who were successful under the British rule.
Like a Wong Kar Wai film, the characters always look their best. Even with her character's facial deformity, Maggie Cheung's classical beauty is ever present, and don't get me started on Gong Li - never has she looked as beautiful as she does here.
The musical score by Graeme Revell is truly phenomenal, and might even rival his superb 1994 The Crow soundtrack. The music captures so much of the feel of the characters, their struggles and the city, and the collaboration with singer Dadawa for the film's main theme is both beautiful and tragic - much like the film itself.
What Chinese Box offers - similar to a Wong Kar Wai film - is a deep feeling of hopelessness, attributed from not just the narrative, but the director himself. This can make for an experience that some may describe as 'arty', though viewers who appreciate this genre might say is poignant and beautiful. The film will not be for everyone, but if you fancy films about certain moments in history, or you are interested in Chinese culture, or you love Wong Kar Wai's catalogue, I think this film will be an easy sell.
The film can feel like a documentary at times, with literal footage of Hong Kong, collected by the crew, inserted throughout, as the narrative happens around them. Some of this can be off-putting - like images of fresh fish cut up at the meat market. Delicious!? However, this also adds to the film's authenticity. This documentary style is further evident in the cinematography, which often takes on a found-footage vibe, with some of the characters picking up cameras and recording the goings on around them during their jaunts.
Moreover, I can acknowledge how some viewers may feel unfulfilled by the time the credits roll. As regular film goers, we want our happy endings; we want to experience rich character arks; we want to be awed and surprised. Chinese Box doesn't always give us these however, and may leave some viewers feeling empty. The character's journeys here can feel incomplete; the narrative can feel only half-finished - keep in mind, we are only having a snap shot of Hong Kong and its inhabitants during a specific period.
The film is stuck in time, between 1996 and 1997, during the British hand-over of the city to the Chinese mainland. It feels like a genuine passion project by the director, Wayne Wang, and his nostalgia and melancholy is very much evident in the characters and story.
John (Jeremy Irons) is a journalist who has lived in Hong Kong for 15 years, and yet still feels like an alien there. Irons is excellent at showing a wealth of emotions, including longing, frustration and defeat, and you totally feel for his character. John works alongside his lothario friend, Jim (Ruben Blades), documenting Hong Kong during its transitional period.
John is also hopelessly infatuated with Vivian (Gong Li), the film marvelously capturing a sense of 'la douleur exquise' - the torturous pain of loving an unattainable person, Irons narration furthering this. Vivian is a bar owner from the Chinese main-land with a - shall we say - shady past. She wishes to start a family with wealthy businessman Chang (Michael Hui), who could provide for her the lavish lifestyle she dreams of.
While documenting the city, John happens upon Jean (Maggie Cheung), a disfigured native of the city, whom he wishes to learn more about. He grants her the opportunity to share her stories, one of which mirrors his; a love story, between her and an Englishman, William (in a cameo role by Jared Harris).
Not long into the film, John learns he is grievously ill. The fear he feels for his own mortality not only makes his desire to romance Vivian that much harder, but also works as a metaphor for the demise of the British rule of the city.
Much of the characters are representations or metaphors of themes or aspects of Hong Kong and China; Jean is a metaphor of Hong Kong's mystery and creativity (just like the Chinese puzzle box the film derives its name from); Vivian represents the rich Chinese heritage and the sacrifices made for a better life; and Chang represents the rich who were successful under the British rule.
Like a Wong Kar Wai film, the characters always look their best. Even with her character's facial deformity, Maggie Cheung's classical beauty is ever present, and don't get me started on Gong Li - never has she looked as beautiful as she does here.
The musical score by Graeme Revell is truly phenomenal, and might even rival his superb 1994 The Crow soundtrack. The music captures so much of the feel of the characters, their struggles and the city, and the collaboration with singer Dadawa for the film's main theme is both beautiful and tragic - much like the film itself.
What Chinese Box offers - similar to a Wong Kar Wai film - is a deep feeling of hopelessness, attributed from not just the narrative, but the director himself. This can make for an experience that some may describe as 'arty', though viewers who appreciate this genre might say is poignant and beautiful. The film will not be for everyone, but if you fancy films about certain moments in history, or you are interested in Chinese culture, or you love Wong Kar Wai's catalogue, I think this film will be an easy sell.
The introduction to The Whistleblower - featuring James Bond style opening credits, and an explosive earthquake in Africa which devastates a village - may leave you thinking you're about to watch an entirely different film. Though the movie haphazardly juggles the action and thriller genres, it also tries its hand at melodrama and comedy, with mixed results, the film having such massive tonal shifts, it almost gave me a nose bleed.
The plot follows protagonist, Mark (Lei Jiayin), a Chinese citizen with an Australian residence permit, working in the land down under for Harrison (John Batchelor) a big-shot at GPEC, an international mining giant. It might be worth noting that approximately half of the film is in English, and the other half is in Chinese (with subtitles).
When a city in China wishes to take advantage of GPEC's coal production, their representative - who also happens to be Mark's ex-girlfriend - Siliang (Tang Wei), is sent to negotiate on the local government's behalf.
Their complicated relationship history in mind, Mark and Siliang engage in a night of lurid passion ~ after which she gets on a plane and Mark goes home to his family (we are only *now* introduced to his wife, Judy (Xi Qi) and son). Before Judy discovers Mark's infidelity, Siliang's flight crashes at sea.
This shocking turn of events is made more so when Siliang contacts Mark - no, she's not a zombie - she has cheated death, and is now in hiding, suspecting mercenaries had a hand in taking down the plane. Mark's doubts are put to rest when one colleague, Peter (Ce Wang), dies under mysterious circumstances, and another GPEC staffer, Tom (Brett Cousins) goes missing in Africa. What conspiracy could be at play here? Who is behind it all? And can Mark and Siliang figure it all out in time?
Tang Wei gives an excellent performance, as usual, which ironically is a problem ~ her character is disingenuous and not particularly likable, making it hard to sympathize with her. Siliang's intellect is also questionable ~ not long into the movie, she contacts one of the antagonists after her 'death' and says (I'm paraphrasing) 'hey mate ~ I'm actually alive ~ please don't come after me'. What, dear reader, do you think happens next?
Similarly, John Batchelor is totally under-appreciated with the two-dimensional character he has been handed, which does not befit his acting prowess. I strongly recommend 2012's Red Dog to anyone who wants to see Batchelor's extraordinary range.
Moving on, by the time Judy uncovers Mark's infidelity, the film attempts to portray *him* as the victim, with Mark's son initially supporting him. The addendum that I found Judy to be the most endearing and empathetic character represents not just Xi Qi's phenomenal talent, but the film's inability to understand its audience ~ we'll come back to this problem later.
What makes the film an even harder pill to swallow is how overly complicated everything is, with so many twists and turns. I'm all for a good twist (I'm looking at you, 2002's High Crimes), but here in The Whistleblower? Character X is a villain; now they're a victim; no, they're a villain again; now they're indifferent ~ and this issue plagues more than one role.
Moreover, when the film is not being confusing, it becomes unrealistic and relies on sheer happenstance - example, when our protagonist literally finds evidence on the side of the road. Is that how investigations are supposed to work?
This is further compounded by the film's repetitive structure, which mirrors 1998's Godzilla. Exchange a giant lizard for Mark and Siliang; exchange New York for Melbourne (and parts of Africa); and exchange U. S soldiers for random mercenaries. I dare you to count the number of times the bad guys find our leads and pursue them.
I would however like to give credit to the film, in its ability to establish information early in the narrative, which then becomes important later ~ example, the initial African earthquake and Judy's profession in digital animation. If only everything in the film could have been this well executed.
Returning to the aforementioned tonal shifts, a lot of this comes down to the choice of soundtrack. Despite the film's ability to score emotional scenes, the action sequences can be more hit and miss, with the inclusion of generic, almost cartoony, slap-stick style music. The overused effects, which accompany the occasional explosion or car chase, equally hamper immersion. Being passable at best, scenes of cars robotically flipping 180 degrees into the air, are likely to make most viewers shake their heads in disbelief.
Lastly, one thought I kept returning to was, 'who is this movie made for?' Chinese audiences? A text crawl at the end of the movie reveals whistleblowing is basically illegal in China. Australian audiences? It's ironic that two major Australian film financiers produced a feature which demonizes Australia as a country willing to corrupt and hurt China. Additionally, movies produced by Australia usually self-promote the beauty of the nation's natural wonders, and with the exception of a scene at a famous landmark in the first act, so much potential is squandered, with most Australian locations appearing generic.
What about international audiences? Well, the script's attempts at English, though grammatically good, are terribly formal, clunky and robotic. People DO NOT talk like this. Additionally, when Mark's infidelity is scandalized in the national news, he and Siliang are seemingly crucified, for what would not even be considered a worthy story in Australia (and presumably in many Western countries) ~ Mark's just an average joe - a foreigner at that, and who he sleeps with shouldn't make front page news (unlike in China where losing face is so serious).
The Whistleblower, from its execution to its intended message, misses the mark (no pun intended) in so many ways. Though the finale is in some ways, satisfying, this cannot make up for an otherwise bloated, and more often than not, incoherent narrative, which blows more than it whistles.
The plot follows protagonist, Mark (Lei Jiayin), a Chinese citizen with an Australian residence permit, working in the land down under for Harrison (John Batchelor) a big-shot at GPEC, an international mining giant. It might be worth noting that approximately half of the film is in English, and the other half is in Chinese (with subtitles).
When a city in China wishes to take advantage of GPEC's coal production, their representative - who also happens to be Mark's ex-girlfriend - Siliang (Tang Wei), is sent to negotiate on the local government's behalf.
Their complicated relationship history in mind, Mark and Siliang engage in a night of lurid passion ~ after which she gets on a plane and Mark goes home to his family (we are only *now* introduced to his wife, Judy (Xi Qi) and son). Before Judy discovers Mark's infidelity, Siliang's flight crashes at sea.
This shocking turn of events is made more so when Siliang contacts Mark - no, she's not a zombie - she has cheated death, and is now in hiding, suspecting mercenaries had a hand in taking down the plane. Mark's doubts are put to rest when one colleague, Peter (Ce Wang), dies under mysterious circumstances, and another GPEC staffer, Tom (Brett Cousins) goes missing in Africa. What conspiracy could be at play here? Who is behind it all? And can Mark and Siliang figure it all out in time?
Tang Wei gives an excellent performance, as usual, which ironically is a problem ~ her character is disingenuous and not particularly likable, making it hard to sympathize with her. Siliang's intellect is also questionable ~ not long into the movie, she contacts one of the antagonists after her 'death' and says (I'm paraphrasing) 'hey mate ~ I'm actually alive ~ please don't come after me'. What, dear reader, do you think happens next?
Similarly, John Batchelor is totally under-appreciated with the two-dimensional character he has been handed, which does not befit his acting prowess. I strongly recommend 2012's Red Dog to anyone who wants to see Batchelor's extraordinary range.
Moving on, by the time Judy uncovers Mark's infidelity, the film attempts to portray *him* as the victim, with Mark's son initially supporting him. The addendum that I found Judy to be the most endearing and empathetic character represents not just Xi Qi's phenomenal talent, but the film's inability to understand its audience ~ we'll come back to this problem later.
What makes the film an even harder pill to swallow is how overly complicated everything is, with so many twists and turns. I'm all for a good twist (I'm looking at you, 2002's High Crimes), but here in The Whistleblower? Character X is a villain; now they're a victim; no, they're a villain again; now they're indifferent ~ and this issue plagues more than one role.
Moreover, when the film is not being confusing, it becomes unrealistic and relies on sheer happenstance - example, when our protagonist literally finds evidence on the side of the road. Is that how investigations are supposed to work?
This is further compounded by the film's repetitive structure, which mirrors 1998's Godzilla. Exchange a giant lizard for Mark and Siliang; exchange New York for Melbourne (and parts of Africa); and exchange U. S soldiers for random mercenaries. I dare you to count the number of times the bad guys find our leads and pursue them.
I would however like to give credit to the film, in its ability to establish information early in the narrative, which then becomes important later ~ example, the initial African earthquake and Judy's profession in digital animation. If only everything in the film could have been this well executed.
Returning to the aforementioned tonal shifts, a lot of this comes down to the choice of soundtrack. Despite the film's ability to score emotional scenes, the action sequences can be more hit and miss, with the inclusion of generic, almost cartoony, slap-stick style music. The overused effects, which accompany the occasional explosion or car chase, equally hamper immersion. Being passable at best, scenes of cars robotically flipping 180 degrees into the air, are likely to make most viewers shake their heads in disbelief.
Lastly, one thought I kept returning to was, 'who is this movie made for?' Chinese audiences? A text crawl at the end of the movie reveals whistleblowing is basically illegal in China. Australian audiences? It's ironic that two major Australian film financiers produced a feature which demonizes Australia as a country willing to corrupt and hurt China. Additionally, movies produced by Australia usually self-promote the beauty of the nation's natural wonders, and with the exception of a scene at a famous landmark in the first act, so much potential is squandered, with most Australian locations appearing generic.
What about international audiences? Well, the script's attempts at English, though grammatically good, are terribly formal, clunky and robotic. People DO NOT talk like this. Additionally, when Mark's infidelity is scandalized in the national news, he and Siliang are seemingly crucified, for what would not even be considered a worthy story in Australia (and presumably in many Western countries) ~ Mark's just an average joe - a foreigner at that, and who he sleeps with shouldn't make front page news (unlike in China where losing face is so serious).
The Whistleblower, from its execution to its intended message, misses the mark (no pun intended) in so many ways. Though the finale is in some ways, satisfying, this cannot make up for an otherwise bloated, and more often than not, incoherent narrative, which blows more than it whistles.
Alien Romulus, in the words of my father, 'is a bit off'. It *does* take the film's core concept in new directions, while also taking inspiration from ALL four mainline Alien films (and I do mean all ~ for better AND worse), alongside the Ridley Scott prequels.
The film is absolutely at its best in the sound and visual department. I would highly recommend seeing the film at the cinema for the sound alone, because much like Dune Part 2, it is a feast for the sensors, with absolutely everything sounding impactful and dangerous.
This truly helps sell the idea that the universe is virtually uninhabitable for human's and their frail bodies, an idea the narrative thematically returns to. This is further represented in the story; Rain (Cailee Spaeny) has recently completed what amounts to indentured servitude for Weyland-Yutani on an awful mining colony; the same mining colony that killed her parents. However, being evil for evil's sake, Weyland recommissions Rain for active duty, instead of sending her to a promised paradise light-years-away.
Following this, Rain is contacted by Tyler (Archie Renaux) and his pregnant girlfriend, Kay (Isabella Merced), who also dream of getting off-world. Their goal is to fly to a seemingly abandoned space station pulled into the planet's orbit - a station made up of two parts; Romulus and Remus. Rain's only friend, a malfunctioning android named Andy (David Jonsson), is an imperative part of this plan, with the ability to communicate with the station's systems, with pilot, Navarro (Aileen Wu) and her boyfriend / Tyler's cousin, Bjorn (Spike Fearn) also being recruited.
Rain is told the plan is essentially fool proof. As the audience of an Alien film, we know this is anything but true. That said, Alien Romulus is often, annoyingly, hitting you over the head with over-used nostalgia. Example dialogue includes 'I can't lie about your odds, but you have my sympathies', or 'I prefer the term artificial person' and even 'get away from her you b****'. These however, never hit with the same force as the originals, and feel like the film is trying to capture something that is unreachable.
With that in mind, a lot of the original dialogue is...meh (and ham-fisting in nostalgia makes it worse). During the film's first act, I occasionally wanted to throw myself out an airlock just to escape from it - things do improve, but the issue also stems from the characters.
Although Jonsson's portrayal of Andy is perhaps one of the most endearing parts of the film - an android who begins to experience an inner conflict when his firmware is upgraded, putting his desire to complete the mission and his wish to keep Rain safe in jeopardy - most of the characters are just single-minded and selfish.
The initial goal is unanimously 'get off planet' before later becoming 'get off station'. Though some characters, like Bjorn and his hatred of androids, have minor detail, this is a good idea that is never utilized to its full. I mean, maybe Bjorn could have his negative biases tested, which opens a redemptive ark? Nah!
As for the film itself, it's structured less like a typical movie, and more like a song, with three verses (or acts), followed by a shorter bridge at the end. Although the ingredients for the 'bridge' are hinted at earlier in the film, the feature feels bloated because of it. The movie seemingly ends as the third act wraps up, only to shoehorn in more footage, ending on a note that tries to mirror the impressive ending of previous Alien films, only to severely over-reach.
Despite this criticism, another area of praise is the set design, which is truly on point, taking visual guidance from the original film, and feeling like a continuation of the Nostromo. The technology is often fabulously inspired by the '70s view of the future, which maintains the series' look and feel. At least until we get to the laboratories, which seem a bit too (subjectively) clean and hi-tech.
But on that subject, it is the mystery of what the Romulus was working on; and what happened to its crew, that is the most successful part of the narrative, and really hooks you. It is here that the story from the unfinished Prometheus trilogy is alluded to, which adds surprising and refreshing ideas, that don't always receive the development they deserve.
Moving on, the effects for the alien are...good - when you *can* see it, and though I am all for a 'less is more' approach, we all know what this monster looks like by now, right? And seeing the Alien in its 21st century, top of the line graphics, was a big desire of mine, that largely went unfulfilled. Hell, you see more of the alien in the original two films. As an aside (and I don't want to look like a gore-hound), I didn't think the film challenged the brutality of previous Alien films, instead seeming a bit tame in comparison, with say, Alien 3 or Alien Covenant.
Additionally, the face-hugger design is not bad (when moving), but when stationary, looks a bit too much like a prosthetic (for my taste at least). However, do not get me started on the acid ~ the utter destruction caused by the alien's blood is truly impressive, as is the digitalisation of a former series character - do you recall Moff Tarkin's appearance in Rogue One? Alien Romulus does something similar here, with spectacular results.
Returning to my love affair with the film's diegetic sound, which significantly aids in ratcheting up the claustrophobic tension, this is sometimes hampered by the editing. If the film ever cuts away from a character, to frame them from the perspective of another room, the magic of the atmosphere is inadvertently hampered by the sudden change in, what is often, less disturbing sound, breaking the immersion.
Another unfortunate issue is the pacing, which robotically moves from tension to safety, tension to safety, rinse and repeat. It was Quentin Tarantino who likened a film's tension to a stretched rubber-band, and despite having the ingredients for phenomenal tension, the feature seems to have a confidence issue, where it quickly hits the 'take me back to safety' switch just as things are reaching their true intensity. Take one scene, where characters must traverse an obstacle course in zero gravity - one of the film's most taut sequences - only to quickly see the characters reach safety just when things are really becoming breath-taking.
In summary, when Alien Romulus is adding to the series formula, not only *can* this often land, but also shows the feature's true potential. It's not helped that the film is often too busy alluding to or downright copying moments from its predecessors, which makes this movie feel like an impersonator, not a true evolution. Alien Romulus will totally be remembered for its amazing sound - but I don't think it will be remembered as one of the top films in this franchise. That crown still goes to the 1979 original and its 1986 sequel.
The film is absolutely at its best in the sound and visual department. I would highly recommend seeing the film at the cinema for the sound alone, because much like Dune Part 2, it is a feast for the sensors, with absolutely everything sounding impactful and dangerous.
This truly helps sell the idea that the universe is virtually uninhabitable for human's and their frail bodies, an idea the narrative thematically returns to. This is further represented in the story; Rain (Cailee Spaeny) has recently completed what amounts to indentured servitude for Weyland-Yutani on an awful mining colony; the same mining colony that killed her parents. However, being evil for evil's sake, Weyland recommissions Rain for active duty, instead of sending her to a promised paradise light-years-away.
Following this, Rain is contacted by Tyler (Archie Renaux) and his pregnant girlfriend, Kay (Isabella Merced), who also dream of getting off-world. Their goal is to fly to a seemingly abandoned space station pulled into the planet's orbit - a station made up of two parts; Romulus and Remus. Rain's only friend, a malfunctioning android named Andy (David Jonsson), is an imperative part of this plan, with the ability to communicate with the station's systems, with pilot, Navarro (Aileen Wu) and her boyfriend / Tyler's cousin, Bjorn (Spike Fearn) also being recruited.
Rain is told the plan is essentially fool proof. As the audience of an Alien film, we know this is anything but true. That said, Alien Romulus is often, annoyingly, hitting you over the head with over-used nostalgia. Example dialogue includes 'I can't lie about your odds, but you have my sympathies', or 'I prefer the term artificial person' and even 'get away from her you b****'. These however, never hit with the same force as the originals, and feel like the film is trying to capture something that is unreachable.
With that in mind, a lot of the original dialogue is...meh (and ham-fisting in nostalgia makes it worse). During the film's first act, I occasionally wanted to throw myself out an airlock just to escape from it - things do improve, but the issue also stems from the characters.
Although Jonsson's portrayal of Andy is perhaps one of the most endearing parts of the film - an android who begins to experience an inner conflict when his firmware is upgraded, putting his desire to complete the mission and his wish to keep Rain safe in jeopardy - most of the characters are just single-minded and selfish.
The initial goal is unanimously 'get off planet' before later becoming 'get off station'. Though some characters, like Bjorn and his hatred of androids, have minor detail, this is a good idea that is never utilized to its full. I mean, maybe Bjorn could have his negative biases tested, which opens a redemptive ark? Nah!
As for the film itself, it's structured less like a typical movie, and more like a song, with three verses (or acts), followed by a shorter bridge at the end. Although the ingredients for the 'bridge' are hinted at earlier in the film, the feature feels bloated because of it. The movie seemingly ends as the third act wraps up, only to shoehorn in more footage, ending on a note that tries to mirror the impressive ending of previous Alien films, only to severely over-reach.
Despite this criticism, another area of praise is the set design, which is truly on point, taking visual guidance from the original film, and feeling like a continuation of the Nostromo. The technology is often fabulously inspired by the '70s view of the future, which maintains the series' look and feel. At least until we get to the laboratories, which seem a bit too (subjectively) clean and hi-tech.
But on that subject, it is the mystery of what the Romulus was working on; and what happened to its crew, that is the most successful part of the narrative, and really hooks you. It is here that the story from the unfinished Prometheus trilogy is alluded to, which adds surprising and refreshing ideas, that don't always receive the development they deserve.
Moving on, the effects for the alien are...good - when you *can* see it, and though I am all for a 'less is more' approach, we all know what this monster looks like by now, right? And seeing the Alien in its 21st century, top of the line graphics, was a big desire of mine, that largely went unfulfilled. Hell, you see more of the alien in the original two films. As an aside (and I don't want to look like a gore-hound), I didn't think the film challenged the brutality of previous Alien films, instead seeming a bit tame in comparison, with say, Alien 3 or Alien Covenant.
Additionally, the face-hugger design is not bad (when moving), but when stationary, looks a bit too much like a prosthetic (for my taste at least). However, do not get me started on the acid ~ the utter destruction caused by the alien's blood is truly impressive, as is the digitalisation of a former series character - do you recall Moff Tarkin's appearance in Rogue One? Alien Romulus does something similar here, with spectacular results.
Returning to my love affair with the film's diegetic sound, which significantly aids in ratcheting up the claustrophobic tension, this is sometimes hampered by the editing. If the film ever cuts away from a character, to frame them from the perspective of another room, the magic of the atmosphere is inadvertently hampered by the sudden change in, what is often, less disturbing sound, breaking the immersion.
Another unfortunate issue is the pacing, which robotically moves from tension to safety, tension to safety, rinse and repeat. It was Quentin Tarantino who likened a film's tension to a stretched rubber-band, and despite having the ingredients for phenomenal tension, the feature seems to have a confidence issue, where it quickly hits the 'take me back to safety' switch just as things are reaching their true intensity. Take one scene, where characters must traverse an obstacle course in zero gravity - one of the film's most taut sequences - only to quickly see the characters reach safety just when things are really becoming breath-taking.
In summary, when Alien Romulus is adding to the series formula, not only *can* this often land, but also shows the feature's true potential. It's not helped that the film is often too busy alluding to or downright copying moments from its predecessors, which makes this movie feel like an impersonator, not a true evolution. Alien Romulus will totally be remembered for its amazing sound - but I don't think it will be remembered as one of the top films in this franchise. That crown still goes to the 1979 original and its 1986 sequel.