Timothy Olyphant in 'Alien: Earth.' Patrick Brown/FX Share on Facebook Share on X Share to Flipboard Send an Email Show additional share options Share on LinkedIn Share on Pinterest Share on Reddit Share on Tumblr Share on Whats App Print the Article Post a Comment In its very first moments, FX's Alien: Earth feels like nothing so much as, well, Alien. Here we are once more aboard a Weyland-Yutani spaceship, the USCSS Maginot this time, watching a rumpled crew emerge from cryogenic hibernation. Here they go now gathering around the canteen, trading jokes and complaints. And here again is a crewmember examining way too closely the creepy-crawlies they have encountered on their travels. Alien: Earth The Bottom Line On Earth, everyone can hear you scream. Airdate: 8 p.m. Tuesday, Aug. 12 (FX)Cast: Sydney Chandler, Timothy Olyphant, Samuel Blenkin, Babou Ceesay, Alex Lawther, Essie DavisCreator: Noah Hawley You can fill in the rest from there - and indeed, Earth trusts you to do just that, initially offering only brief, jarring teases of the crew's expectedly gruesome fates. Related Stories TV 'Alien: Earth' Poses a Big Question: Does Humanity Even Deserve to Survive? TV 'Alien: Earth' Screens Blockbuster First Episode at Comic-Con But if the prologue confirms that creator Noah Hawley can faithfully replicate the superficial trappings of this franchise, what comes next suggests he gets something of its spirit, too. Because Earth, as it turns out, is mostly not about rehashing Alien at all. Instead, like all the series' most interesting follow-ups, it treats that familiar template less as a formula than a launchpad for its own ambitions - in this case, a heady, sprawling, occasionally unwieldy but eventually thrilling epic about personhood, hubris and, of course, the primal pleasure of watching people get absolutely rocked by space monsters. As the title might suggest, the real story is happening down on Earth. Specifically, it's in the region of Southeast Asia controlled by Prodigy, which as of 2120 (two years before the events of Ridley Scott's 1979 original, not that it matters) is one of five corporations controlling the globe. On the remote, Edenic island of Neverland, terminally ill 12-year-old Marcy (Florence Bensberg) is having her consciousness uploaded into a cutting-edge synthetic form with humanoid adult features, enhanced physical capabilities and, most important to Prodigy's stake in the race to "cure" mortality, a theoretically infinite lifespan. When the Maginot crash-lands in nearby New Siam, Wendy (Sydney Chandler), as the hybrid has rechristened herself, sees the opportunity to flex her new gifts. She and five of her fellow prototypes head out on a rescue mission overseen by Kirsh (an icy Timothy Olyphant), a more traditional synthetic à la Alien's Ash. But once it becomes clear the vessel was carrying a veritable zoo of fearsome outer-space creatures, Prodigy's founder, the obnoxiously but appropriately named Boy Kavalier (Samuel Blenkin), cannot resist the opportunity to claim them for himself. Most of this is laid out in the thrilling if overstuffed premiere, written and directed by Hawley. It takes at least two more episodes to bring the various supporting characters into focus and seed the season's smaller subplots, and it's not until the fourth or fifth (out of an eight-part season) that the series reaches the turning point from setting things up to paying them off. But Earth is never dull, even at its most expositional. Stomach-churning violence and queasy conversations are scattered regularly enough to keep viewers on the edge of their seats. The production design by Andy Nicholson, pretty but purposefully cold, looks real enough to touch and expansive enough to explore. A sardonic rock playlist (Black Sabbath, Tool, Pearl Jam) sends each chapter off under a dark spell. Xenomorphs in their various forms show up early and semi-often, along with several new beasts with their own deliciously horrible ways of killing. (My favorite is an impish octopus-like critter with an eyeball for a head; I will not spoil its sickening signature move.) Novel gradations on the man-machine scale - in addition to classic synthetics like Kirsh and cutting-edge hybrids like Wendy, we also encounter a cyborg with a human body but enhanced parts - add a slight twist to the usual philosophical quandaries about intelligence, emotion and what counts as human. While the enormity of the cast means some of the characters inevitably go underdeveloped, performances are compelling across the board. Chandler and her fellow Lost Boys - Adarsh Gourav as Slightly, Jonathan Ajayi as Smee, Erana James as Curly, Lily Newmark as Nibs, Kit Young as Tootles and, yes, also all names from Peter Pan - adopt a restless preadolescent physicality that never allows us to forget that these are still children inside grown-up bodies: naive, scared, impressionable and manipulable. Among the proper adults, standouts include Alex Lawther, wh