Editorials
Alien Day: Why ‘Aliens’ Is Still the Perfect Horror-Action Hybrid
April 26th means Alien Day. And on this day I would like to challenge the “common wisdom” of James Cameron’s Aliens that has always been a bee in my bonnet. Or should I say an Alien in my ascot? A Facehugger in my frock?
I’m not going to sit here and pretend that what is largely considered to be one of the best sequels of all time is somehow getting an unfair shake. Cameron’s 1986 follow-up to Ridley Scott’s immortal classic is well beyond gilded in the eyes of film fans at this point. Yet there is a persistent…attitude, shall we say, around Aliens that never sat right with me – and that is the notion the film is just “the action one” to Scott’s claustrophobic horror.
Because of the movie’s action fest reputation it seems many forget Cameron’s sequel is still a 100% dyed-in-the-wool horror film. We’ve all been proudly proclaiming Cameron’s breakout classic The Terminator “is a horror film, actually” to anybody who will listen. So why don’t we do the same for Aliens?
Aliens is more often than not categorized as the bigger, louder, firepower enhanced shoot ‘em up extravaganza next its smaller, more intimate predecessor. While on the surface much of this is true, that’s just it. This is all on the surface. Aliens certainly is bigger is scope and scale than Alien. It certainly contains propulsive action. Sigourney Weaver’s hair is quintessentially 80s. The film even has a couple of choice 80s style one-liners sprinkled on top. But a bombastic fireworks of 80s action machismo it is not.
The film is direct comment on machismo artifice. There may be big guns firing copious rounds into Xenomorphs. There may be explosions. There may be one-liners…but it’s never in service of propping up the marines as Rambo-esque badasses. Aliens is telling us that Rambo ain’t shit if you toss him into this world. He’s a paper tiger.
While the storytelling and filmmaking sensibilities of Scott and Cameron are vastly different, you can tell from the opening moments of Aliens that Cameron is trying to adhere to what Scott established while also doing his own thing.
Aliens is quite the slow burn when you get down to it. Depending on which version of the film you’re watching (Theatrical or Extended) it’s 30 minutes or more of runtime before the characters land on planet LV-426. It’s also an hour or more before the first major set piece in the Alien Hive takes place. So in all that time, what is Cameron doing?
He’s establishing character. He’s making world-building look easy. He’s also teasing out tension, suspense, and dread like the filmmaking equivalent of a master surgeon. As we are reintroduced to Weaver’s Ripley and being endeared to the merry band of roughneck Colonial Marines, Cameron is making us wait for the shoe to drop. We know it’s all going to go to hell and it’s only a matter of time. Cameron plays a ballsy game making the audience wait so long for the terror to strike. Before the film sets out for LV-426 we’re perfectly honed in to Ripley’s headspace. We know her fears and anxieties are correct. We sympathize with her plight against Weyland-Yutani, which is all for naught.
So after spending so much time with Ripley – knowing she’s right and seeing the nightmares that wake her up coated in sweat every night, we’re primed and on the edge of our seat waiting…waiting.
Like Scott before him, Cameron uses setting and sound to his advantage to craft mood and unease. Cameron’s touch is more matter of fact and rough around the edges than Scott’s, but it’s just as effective. The more matter-of-fact hand of Cameron matches the characters and story being told.
The marine dropship flies over a ghost town that was once a human colony. Inside the complex the walls and ceiling are blown out, debris is littered everywhere and not a soul is to be found. The colony of LV-426 is haunted, just as the derelict was 57 years ago when the Nostromo found it.
The horror of Aliens is rooted in a finding yourself woefully unprepared against an insurmountable threat. It doesn’t matter who your skillset is or how tough you think you are. When you go up against an enemy you underestimate no amount of training or badassery can save you. If the lone Alien in the first film represented everything from the threat of sexual violence to the dangers of the unknown, the multitude the characters face in Aliens represent single-minded ferocity of nature when its purpose is purely survival.
You will sometimes run into the criticism that Cameron dumbs down the creatures in his film – making them nothing but space bugs and ruining their terrifying mystique. I don’t think it’s that simple. Yes, Cameron’s additions to the lore of the Xenomorph are more “standard” for the lack of a better term, but the film does indeed expand upon ideas found in Alien.
If one of the themes of Alien is birth, Aliens is about family and the homestead. LV-426 is the home of the Xenomorphs (or least these particular ones). They have come from a mysterious crashed ship, but they were there first. Weyland-Yutani colonized their home. The Colonial Marines are another invasive force. The entrance to the Hive is a masterclass in mounting suspense. The cold metal walkways and industrial spaces merge into a completely different environment as the marines make their way into the nest. It’s hot. Every inch of the place is covered in a black, organic material. The Xenomorphs are taking back their home.
They can blend into the nest with perfect ease, hiding in plain sight in front of the marines until it’s time to strike.
Instead of making the first major confrontation between the marines and Aliens a full-on firefight, Cameron chooses to focus on the confusing horror of the scene. Most of the action is off-screen as we see the terror stricken reactions of Ripley and Co. as they watch the unit fall victim the ambush. The bodycam footage is a frenzy of fire and screams. Lt. Gorman (William Hope), so concerned with running a smooth operation and proving himself an effective leader, locks up. It’s up to Ripley to do something to save the lives she can.
With most of the marines decimated and the remaining characters cut off from their ship The Sulaco, the film’s narrative becomes something of an under siege story with a ticking clock element. If the Aliens don’t take them out, the imminent explosion of the entire facility will. In this sense Aliens resembles something Night of the Living Dead more than being Exhibit A for robust 80s action bonanzas.
The vast majority of the action only takes place in the third act when the Aliens overwhelm our heroes in force. They sneak in through the ceiling in another expertly tense example of buildup and payoff. A loss of power bathes the setting in a hellish red, casting the Aliens in a demonic light. The crew of the Sulaco has landed in hell, and hell’s denizens are coming for them.
The third act of the film is where horror and action merge in perfect symbiosis. Ripley’s rescue mission of Newt is one of the most thrilling set pieces in horror. She has mere minutes before the entire place is dust and it’s her and her alone armed with some grenades and a flamethrower. Just as she thinks she’s home free, they find themselves in very heart of the nest…presided over by the Queen herself. The reveal of the Alien Queen is one of the coolest damn things in genre film history. The image is striking and the creature design is as perfect as it gets. She’s instantly intimidating. Just like how the Alien was shot in the first film, when you see the Queen you aren’t quite sure what you’re looking at at first.
She’s backlit against the darkness, boney protrusions and limbs tower over her brood. She’s the dark royalty of Hell.
Even without H.R. Giger’s creative input, legendary effects man Stan Winston and his team created a movie monster with all the subliminal elements of the original creature. The Queen is massive and less humanoid than her offspring, yet there is an undeniable femininity to her all the same. She’s lithe, agile, and the flatter, fanned out design of her head is obviously meant to evoke a crown.
The Power Loader fight between Ripley and the Queen is every bit a knockdown, drag out brawl as it is the final showdown between the hero and the monster we’ve seen in countless horror films leading up to Aliens and films following in its wake. The Queen fight is the monster showdown perfected with expert filmmaking craft.
James Cameron uses every trick in the book to make his film scary. He emphasizes the use of space and sound to craft suspense. He understands many of the same elements that makes a horror film scary are what make an action film thrilling. The way the camera captures space, the use of sound, the design of sets and locations – it all melds into a perfect tightrope walk of mixed genres.
So yes, Aliens is in fact an action film. A great one at that. It’s also one hell of a horror film. A classic one just like its predecessor. And it deserves to be seen as such.
Editorials
How ‘Weapons’, ‘Hokum’, and ‘Widow’s Bay’ Continue Stephen King’s Horror Legacy
After fifty years of continuous writing, Stephen King has become a genre unto himself.
The unrivaled Master of Horror made a splash in 1974 with his debut novel Carrie and has been terrifying readers ever since. Two years later, Brian De Palma brought this shocking story to the screen with an equally electrifying horror film that remains a genre classic and a prototypical example of “Good For Her” horror. This dual debut seemed to open the floodgates, unleashing endless waves of Stephen King films.
From the highs of Misery, Cujo, and The Shawshank Redemption to the schlocky fun of Cat’s Eye, Creepshow, and Children of the Corn, the last five decades have seen just about every notable horror creator take a stab at the author’s massive collection.
In recent years, this singular subgenre has begun to burst at the seams, expanding to include Stephen King-esque fare. In 2016, brothers Matt and Ross Duffer debuted Stranger Things, a sci-fi series heavily inspired by two of King’s most famous books. The Netflix series remixes Firestarter and It by following a little girl with psychic powers and an intrepid group of kids on bikes who must battle an otherworldly foe and a sinister government agency. With its clever blend of modern effects and comforting nostalgia, this gateway horror series paved the way for Andy Muschietti’s It adaptation which remains the highest grossing horror film of all time.
Four years later, Mike Flanagan would create Midnight Mass, a spiritual adaptation of King’s second novel Salem’s Lot. Published in 1975, the book sees a tiny New England town torn apart by a centuries-old vampire. Though Flanagan’s story is perhaps more tender, both iterations of the classic horror tale follow close-knit communities shaken to their core by the presence of an ancient evil.
In addition to these recent hits, 2025 was a banner year for the Master of Horror. Audiences delighted in six mainstream adaptations, including the massively popular It: Welcome to Derry which chronicles earlier cycles of the titular clown’s reign. With this boost to King’s cultural cache, it’s no surprise that we’ve begun to see more unofficial adaptations of the author’s work and horror creators who build their own unique castles in King’s creative sandbox.
So what defines a Stephen King-esque story?
For the past fifty years, the prolific author has dipped his toes in nearly every subgenre from supernatural stories and grisly gore to western fantasy and science fiction. Including his vast catalogue of short fiction, King has tackled ghosts, demons, werewolves, zombies, aliens, mutants, and self-driving cars, not to mention bizarre monsters of his own creation. But what truly unites this vast array of horror is King’s focus on relatable characters. In his 2000 memoir/instructional text On Writing, the prolific author describes the amusement he finds in writing disparate characters, placing them in horrific scenarios, then exploring the ways they try to survive.
An unofficial Stephen King adaptation may take place in the author’s native New England — bonus points if it’s set in Maine — and reference his well-known heroes and villains. But what makes the King connection unbreakable is a character-driven story about average people who band together in the face of abject terror.
Weapons Captures Small Town Stephen King

Following his 2022 shocker Barbarian, Zach Cregger returned with Weapons, a sprawling story that begins in a doomed elementary school. On an otherwise ordinary day, Justine (Julia Garner) arrives at her desk to find that all but one of her students have disappeared. As the mystery grows increasingly violent, Justine and Archer (Josh Brolin), the father of a missing boy, find their way to the home of Alex (Cary Christopher), the class’ only surviving student. In some ways reminiscent of Salem’s Lot, Weapons swings wildly through the unfortunate town, introducing us to its flawed inhabitants as we watch their lives fall apart.
Cregger’s setup nods to a pair of King short stories. Both “Suffer the Little Children” and “Here There Be Tygers” tackle monstrous presences in elementary schools, but as Weapons reaches its final act, Constant Readers may remember another Stephen King tale. Featured in his 1985 collection Skeleton Crew, “Gramma” introduces us to George, a little boy tormented by an aging witch. On an afternoon alone with his sickly grandmother, the frightened child gradually realizes that the imposing old woman has been waiting for an opportunity to cast a spell that will extend her own life by possessing his body.
Alex finds himself similarly tortured by his aunt Gladys (Amy Madigan), a garish witch who orchestrates a desperate plot to sustain her own strength. Transforming humans into mindless weapons, Gladys has taken over Alex’s family home and lured his classmates to the basement. Holding them in a comatose state, she syphons off their energy to extend her own supernatural life.
Vastly different in many ways, both “Gramma” and Weapons hinge on a sinister witch who uses horrific magical spells to sacrifice the bodies of her vulnerable prey.
Hokum Echoes The Shining and 1408

It’s nearly impossible to watch a film about a haunted hotel without thinking of King’s third novel, The Shining. This icy story follows Jack Torrance, an angry writer struggling with his sobriety and a shameful incident haunting his past. Accompanied by his wife and young son, Jack has taken a job as the winter caretaker for the Overlook, a haunted hotel situated high in the Rocky Mountains. Snowed in, Jack finds himself tormented by dangerous ghosts who amplify his greatest fears.
Damian McCarthy’s Hokum follows a similarly troubled figure. Ohm Bauman (Adam Scott) is a surly writer who travels to the Bilberry Woods Hotel in rural Ireland to spread his parents’ ashes. Haunted by his own tragic past, Ohm finds himself trapped in the honeymoon suite, a decaying room that’s been permanently closed to protect visitors from a dangerous witch trapped within its walls. Visual nods to King’s text abound with woodcut figurines and an animated clock, mirroring ominous descriptions found in King’s text.
Another terrifying sequence sees Ohm staring with horror at a closed door, the only thing separating him from the approaching witch. As the door knob slowly turns, Constant Readers remember Jack’s narrow escape from the ghostly woman in room 217. And Ohm’s popular Conquistador books directly reference King’s long-running fantasy series The Dark Tower which follows a gunslinger named Roland Deschain tasked with protecting the nexus of the universe.
In addition to these thematic comparisons, Hokum bears striking resemblance to King’s terrifying short story “1408.” Collected in 2002’s Everything’s Eventual, the terrifying story follows Mike Enslin, a dejected writer who’s risen to fame penning essays about his adventures in haunted locations. Mike arrives at the Hotel Dolphin and bullies his way into the titular room, despite the manager’s dire warnings. McCarthy nods to this story with an ominously misplaced hotel room door, reminiscent of King’s entry to 1408, an unsuspecting portal that appears to move each time Mike looks away.
However, McCarthy’s most direct reference lies in a minicorder Ohm uses to capture notes. Trapped inside the dreaded honeymoon suite, this device offers well-timed messages while sitting next to a decomposing corpse. Mike records his time in 1408 with his own trusty minicorder. Described for the reader, his tape has captured the man’s slow descent into madness as the room prepares to swallow him whole. With conclusions that differ wildly in tone, both Ohm and Mike find their lives irrevocably changed by encounters with the supernatural realm.
Widow’s Bay Builds Its Own Version of Castle Rock

Katie Dippold’s Widow’s Bay has taken the idea of an unofficial King adaptation and turned it into an art form. The Apple TV series sees the residents of the titular island plagued by a curse that dates back centuries. Not only does the picturesque hamlet not accommodate wifi connections, those born on the island face certain death should they ever try to leave. Desperate to modernize the tiny town, Mayor Tom Loftis (Matthew Rhys) draws in waves of tourists just as a new cycle of terror begins.
Blending horror with deft comedy, Dippold makes cheeky references to King’s body of work. Tom warns that, “there’s something in the fog,” reminding readers of King’s 1980 novella The Mist. And Loftis’ own stay in the town’s haunted hotel sees him tormented by the ghost of a murderous clown. We even spy a vintage King hardback peeking out of a local book trade box.
In many ways Widow’s Bay feels like a new iteration of the author’s Little Tall Island, a tiny village off the coast of Maine. In addition to the 1992 novel Dolores Claiborne and a handful of harrowing short stories, this quaint fishing village is also the setting for King’s 1999 teleplay Storm of the Century. Premiering on ABC primetime, this tragic tale follows a terrified group of islanders who batten down the hatches for a dangerous Nor’easter only to find a more sinister threat lurking within.
Constant Readers may also be reminded of Castle Rock, the author’s favorite fictional town.
First introduced in the 1981 novel Cujo, the charming village becomes the star of Needful Things, King’s satire about consumerism. After several Castle Rock stories, we’re reintroduced to its residents as they gossip about the arrival of Leland Gaunt and the grand opening of his curio shop. Anything their hearts desire can be found in his varied inventory, so long as they’re willing to pay the price. Pitting cantankerous neighbors against each other, Gaunt ignites a wave of grisly violence by exploiting long-held resentments and feuds.
The town’s only defense against this supernatural threat is beleaguered sheriff Alan Pangborn. Still grieving the deaths of his wife and younger son, Alan struggles to connect with his older child and pick up the pieces of his shattered life. Also a widower, Loftis struggles to raise his own restless son and explain the strange details of his wife’s tragic death. Attempting to unravel the island’s dark secrets, Tom is aided by quirky residents including a surly fisherman named Wyck (Stephen Root) and Patricia (Kate O’Flynn), an earnest Town Hall employee. King’s own novels feature many of these proactive alliances with disparate characters combining their strengths to overcome insurmountable odds.
With Widow’s Bay renewed for a second season and Mike Flanagan’s Carrie series on the horizon, the future seems bright for new King adaptations, both spiritual and directly pulled from his catalogue. The prolific author also shows no signs of slowing down with two publications nearing release. His upcoming novel, Other Worlds Than These, is the long-awaited third Talisman book which teases direct ties to his Dark Tower world. Holly Forever will be a new installment of his crime series, offering a different kind of genre fare.
This embarrassment of riches spawning multiple worlds seems ripe for spiritual adaptation and will likely inspire horror creators for decades to come.

Kate O’Flynn, Stephen Root and Matthew Rhys in “Widow’s Bay,” now streaming on Apple TV.





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