Two years before the events on the Nostromo, the research ship, Maginot, carrying extra-terrestrial life forms, crash lands on earth. Meanwhile, Boy Kavalier, the CEO of the Prodigy Corporation, is developing ‘Hybrid’ technology, downloading human consciousnesses into adult synthetics, offering a potential solution to any problems caused by invasive species.

Such is my sexagenarian weariness, at the merest sniff of a multi-episodic sequel, prequel, interquel, spinoff-quel to some much loved movie franchise I can’t stop myself asking: ‘Really? Do we need this?? Do they have to??? Do I have to????’ So it was, I sat down with a certain degree of suspicion to watch the opening episodes of Noah Hawley’s eight part Alien: Earth.

Perhaps it was precisely because my expectations were so painfully low, that within a matter of minutes, my doubts confounded, I was completely engrossed in the strands Hawley was weaving for us. He’s also clearly aware how Alien ‘founder members’, whose memory of having our minds blown on the big screen in 1979 has never dimmed, feel when the franchise seems to disrespect its origins.

As the crew of the Maginot wake from cryo-sleep, on a ship adhering closely to Ron Cobb’s designs for the Nostromo, we feel simultaneously on familiar territory oozing with respect for Ridley Scott’s original, and sharply aware that we’re going to be veering off in new directions. The crew look incredibly similar. For a moment, especially as they gathered around the table for the obligatory ‘truckers-in-space’ style meal, I wondered if Hawley was recreating events on the approach to Acheron LV-426: ‘Is that actor supposed to be Harry Dean Stanton? Is she a remodeled Veronica Cartwright? Is he the Yaphet Kotto figure?’ They’re not, of course, but with elegant callbacks by composer Jeff Russo to Jerry Goldsmith’s 1979 score, Hawley is neatly saying: ‘Follow me, Alien nerd, you’re going to like this!’

And I did. I do. Very much. The show doesn’t hang around. If the Nostromo was a literary nod to the darker recesses of Joseph Conrad’s imagination, the Maginot’s name is a historical nod to the hubris of anyone trying to future proof themselves against invasion. We know where this is going as the ship and its deadly cargo are set on a collision course with Planet Earth.

Meanwhile, on a remote island a tech-bro Peter Pan, Boy Kavalier (Samuel Blenkin) is busy downloading the consciousnesses of terminally ill children into adult synthetics. How on earth (or how in space) are these two strands going to slot together?

Alien nerd or not, I have to confess to having semi-snoozed my way through most of the Prometheus and Covenant prequels – especially during their self-serious meditations on the nature of consciousness (or in my case, unconsciousness). Here, Noah Hawley has deftly found a way to draw together the themes of what define consciousness and life when evolution is taken to its extreme – themes that have come to underpin the franchise – and to do so in an entertaining way.

The child-synth hybrids are, unlike cyborgs, simultaneously human and not human, making them potentially the perfect line of defence against the ultimate hunter, if it weren’t for their mental immaturity – which makes for some properly earned comedy moments amid the inevitable bloodshed.

To seal the deal on how the strands will become interdependent, head hybrid, Wendy (Sydney Chandler) has discovered that her entirely human older brother, Joe (the wonderful Alex Lawther of Shut Up and Dance and End of the F***ing World fame) is part of the search and rescue party on the downed ship.

As we wait for episode 3, we are nicely teed up with impressively cinematic production values, a love of the franchise, a rock solid emotional backbone, facehuggers, xenomorphs, and not to mention the kind of extraterrestrial slugs that you’re going to need more than salt or beer to clear out of your garden.

Verdict: A great start to a series determined to prove that, yes, we did need it. I’m excited to see where this goes, and what’s going to jump out at us next week. 9/10

Martin Jameson

www.ninjamarmoset.com