The Alien trilogy limped to a close in this so-so effort from the astounding David Fincher. This was his first big-screen effort, after honing his style with Madonna videos and commercials. It wasn't entirely his fault that the movie was so unexciting. It was a sequel that shouldn't have been made. I haven't seen Alien Resurrection yet, but I am pretty sure that they should have kept it a trilogy.

Poor Ripley (Sigourney Weaver). She already saw two crews die. All she wanted to do is save the little girl from Aliens and go home. Unfortunately, one of the aliens sneaked into her escape ship without her knowing it and ate little Newt. The pod crash-lands on a penal colony populated with weirdos who chose to stay after it stopped being a penal colony. They are members of a religious cult that demands celibacy, which wasn't hard with no women around. Charles S. Dutton is their leader, Charles Dance is the colony's doctor who has some secrets to hide from his new girlfriend, and a bunch of aliens wreak havoc on the colony until Ripley saves the day yet again.

Although Fincher attempts to recreate the claustrophobia and energy of the previous outings, there's not much he could do with the premise. He attempts to concentrate on characters more than the previous two, but he goes a little overboard with the messianic religious references. He would go on to craft Seven, Fight Club, and The Game, so I forgive this misstep. As usual, the cinematography, art direction, and special effects were first-rate, but it just wasn't enough.