Alien: Earth continues its swerve into the psychological with “Observation,” a patient hour of TV that sees Prodigy on the cusp of destruction and making it worse. With the traumatic events of the Maginot behind them, the Lost Boys leave Neverland to butt up against the limits of their humanity as a host of conflicting interests pulls them in different directions. At the center is Wendy, who wasn’t feeling the baby Xenomorph’s pain last week; she was hearing its cries. But is she eavesdropping on Xenomorph conversations, as Kirsh does to Morrow and Slightly, or did the Xenomorph choose her? Information is power in “Observation,” and to glean that power, one only needs to listen.
Appropriately, the episode opens in silence. Arthur has disabled Wendy’s listening components to block out the pain caused by the baby’s cries. For roughly 40 years, the Alien chittering has been primarily a non-diegetic soundtrack effect. When it’s first heard in Alien, the Nostromo hasn’t even landed on LV-426 yet. This episode may be the first time a character has actively listened to and described the noise, which comes in handy in an episode that places the aural over the visual. To that end, when Boy Kavalier enters the scene, his first action is to give the “shut up, Lutz” treatment. His bedside manner could use some work. He’s dropping the pretense on the whole hybrid-vs.-human debate, adopting the company line for the episode: These aren’t people; they’re Prodigy property.
Despite Kavalier’s best attempts at satiating his creations with his Peter Pan podcast, the Lost Boys are growing up, whether they want to or not. Throughout “Observation,” Arthur, Sylvia, and Kirsh watch as their hybrids develop new anxieties, both real and hallucinated. Chief among them: Nibs returned from the Maginot crash site pregnant. She grew up on a farm, so she knows how the whole thing works, but her baby (which will be named Trevor, if it’s a boy) was conceived immaculately. Like many devout Christians, Nibs protects her beliefs fervently, which terrifies Sylvia, particularly when Nibs gets physical and threatens her caretaker when her faith is questioned. Pregnancy scares have long been a factor of Alien, but an AI hallucinating a baby and getting violently protective over it is a new one. Nibbs’ experience with the Trypanohyncha Ocellus—or, as it’s more commonly known, the little eyeball squid monster thingy—has left her with more questions about her humanity, and she’s got bigger issues than why Prodigy changed her name.
What’s in a name, anyway? Toodles decided he’s done with his Neverland alias. He’d like to be named “Isaac” after the “old-time” scientist, which Kirsh appears heartened by. He’s developing as a lab assistant in ways that would be encouraging if the rest of the Boys weren’t floundering. As Toodles evolves into Prodigy’s transhuman future, Slightly takes two steps back. Not that it’s entirely his fault. His conversations with Morrow are becoming increasingly personal, as the Yutani cyborg pulls Slightly’s real name, Aarush Singh, out of the boybot. The name allows Morrow to track down Slightly’s mother and blackmail him into stealing one of the Xenomorph eggs. The sudden complication makes Slightly aggressive, pushing him to work against the collective.
The show’s crossfade-heavy editing allows director Ugla Hauksdóttir to let us in on a little secret: Kirsh is watching and listening to all of this. But why? Is he hoping that Slightly makes his own decision? Or is he, like David in Prometheus, just curious about what will happen? Kirsh makes an attempt at influencing Slightly, telling him of the two interpretations of the three monkeys on Slightly’s wall. Being an adult is a constant test, Kirsh tells him. Kirsh finds much to learn from observation. As he watches the Trypanohyncha Ocellus burrow itself in the brain of a very unfortunate sheep, he stands quietly, waiting to see what it means. Kirsh appears to be treating Slightly the same way, waiting to see if he will reject evil thoughts and deeds, or come clean about his conversations with Morrow. Everything’s a test in adulthood.
The problem with all this, as people keep trying to explain to Kavalier, is that this alien talk is perverting the hybrid experiments. Just as Hermit’s presence is complicating Wendy’s growth, the aliens are creating unexpected transformations throughout. True to his name, Kavalier is barreling forward to the dismay of Arthur, who recognizes the anti-scientific method his boss is applying to what should be a groundbreaking discovery. Kavalier may have discovered the cure for death itself. Instead of focusing his energy on helping the hybrids mature in a controlled manner, he’s pitting them against an unknown and hostile alien species. Kavalier is guiding his hybrids and employees in different directions, confident that it will all end in his favor. After all, he believes himself to be Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up. But his hybrids are growing up, whether he programmed them to or not.
Kavalier is much more interested in driving a wedge between Wendy and Hermit than untangling the emotional problems of his Lost Boys. In an episode full of two-person scenes where one’s secret motivations drive the drama, Kavalier overshares when talking to Wendy. His annoyance toward Hermit appears rooted in his own family problems. It brings up a great point: Where are this guy’s parents and why did they name him “Boy Kavalier”? We assume that’s a self-given nickname because a guy who pals around with Lobot, a.k.a. Atom Eins (Adrian Edmonson), probably doesn’t have many friends. But by bringing up his disdain for family, he inadvertently reveals that he has none. Leave it to Boy Kavalier to emulate the saddest part of Pan. But like Slightly and Morrow (which are essentially a microcosm of everything happening on this show), Kavalier makes a deal with Wendy: If she helps with the aliens, he’ll let her “keep” Hermit, as if he’s a pet. They pinky promise on the deal.
Now assigned to alien detail, Wendy, the Xenomorph whisperer, visits the lab and chitters labor-inducing lullabies to Hermit’s pregnant lung. Out pops a baby Xenomorph snake, and isn’t it adorable? Wendy thinks so and begins petting the baby as if it were her own. But is the snake also manipulating her? Last week, the Xenomorph used Hermit as bait and lured Wendy right to it. This week, the Xeno is having full conversations with her. When a hostile alien species decides to speak, one must ask why. We should be listening to Lobot more carefully.
Stray observations
- • Ever since Dame Sylvia said “Mr. Kavalier,” I have had DEVO’s “Smart Patrol/Mr. DNA” in my head. “Mr Kavalier, Mr. DNA.”
- • The last thing you want to hear after getting a lung removed: “You’ll never guess what we did with the old one.”
- • God, of course, Kavalier has a Peter Pan recap podcast. It’s probably called Peter Pod or Podder Cast. Even 100 years from now, our tech overlord will never be satisfied. Kavalier owns a continent, no less than four Xenomorph eggs, and yet finds the time to record himself reading J.M. Barrie. Isn’t the money enough?
- • Before the comments jump on me for inaccuracy, I know that he’s probably recording an audiobook. Either way: loser behavior!
- • I was dubious of Adarsh Gourav’s comedic chops in the first two episodes, but Slightly’s brief conversation with Toodles got me on board. Gourav has probably one of the most challenging roles on the show, and he played tonight’s conflicts with nuance and empathy.
- • Arthur and Sylvia are married! Congrats to the happy couple. May you survive this TV show.
- • “Weird day.”
- • I didn’t get to discuss the sheep that much this week, but I found the whole thing fairly creepy and very cool. The more this show adds variations to the aliens’ core abilities, the better.
- • Anyone else getting a Billy Idol vibe from Kirsh?
- • I am dying to see that little Xeno snake open its tiny mouth and reveal an even smaller mouth.
