David Jonsson, Archie Renaux and Isabela Merced also star in Fede Alvarez’s sci-fi/horror installment, set between the events of Ridley Scott’s original and James Cameron’s sequel.

Ridley Scott’s Prometheus and Alien: Covenant, respectively from 2012 and 2018, were classy efforts to steer the franchise in a different direction, as far as possible from the silliness of two disposable Predator mashups. But while the prequels were admirably ambitious, they were too bogged down by mythology and windy philosophy to be fully effective. Fede Alvarez makes the smart decision to go back to the origins with Alien: Romulus, setting his standalone entry in 2142, between the events of Scott’s ageless 1979 original and James Cameron’s equally durable 1986 sequel, and including so many callbacks to both that certain moments almost play like part of a reverential remake.

Alongside the lobster-like facehuggers that develop into perfect killing machines with heads like motorcycle fuel tanks, gloopy extendable jaws and a nasty habit of bleeding acid, the archvillain of the series has always been capitalism without conscience. Heartless and exploitative, the Weyland-Yutani Corporation is willing to sacrifice as many underpaid workers’ lives as necessary to secure its coveted asset, alien creatures to be used for some kind of biological weapons research. In Alien: Romulus, unchecked capitalism is literally killing people, no xenomorph encounter even required.

We learn almost straight off that Andy is a synthetic, discarded by the corporation once more advanced biomechanical humanoids became available. Rain’s late father rescued him from the trash, reprogramming him with just one directive — to do what’s best for Rain. Both her parents died of lung disease from the mines, a common occurrence. Harsh conditions, hailstorms, rising temperatures and the emergence of new diseases every cycle mean that many colonists in their 20s like Rain have been orphaned.

That factor paves the way for Alvarez and co-writer Rodo Sayagues to inflict alien mayhem on a significantly younger ensemble than the franchise norm. The small group includes Tyler (Archie Renaux), an ex-boyfriend who still has feelings for Rain; his sister Kay (Isabela Merced), who has been keeping her pregnancy a secret; hotheaded jerk Bjorn (Spike Fearn), whose antagonism toward Andy stems from a synthetic’s role in his mother’s death; and Navarro (Aileen Wu), a tough techie with piloting skills.

One significant lesson not learned from Scott’s original is the minimal time spent establishing these characters as distinct individuals. But since most of them won’t be around long enough to matter, perhaps that was the point.

The ease with which they take off from the oppressive colony in a hulking utilitarian spacecraft raises questions. But the visceral sound design provides plenty of distraction, making the audience feel every clanking industrial noise and juddering movement, every pummeling of turbulence and rocky landing in the pit of their stomachs.

On arrival the group discovers that their planned means of escape is not a ship but a sprawling space station called Renaissance, with twin modules dubbed Romulus and Remus. Urgency is built in via the alert that the station will crash into the ring system surrounding the mining planet in a matter of hours and be destroyed, prompting regular computer-generated announcements on the remaining time before the impact event. But they confidently anticipate being in and out in 30 minutes max.

Of course that’s not the way it goes, with one setback after another before their presence stirs the parasitic facehuggers and sends them skittering in search of a human host. The familiar guessing game of who gets picked off next and how gruesomely is less interesting than Alvarez’s skill at incrementally turning up the tension until it reaches fever pitch and stays there.