NR | 2h 2m | Action, Fantasy, Sci-Fi | 2024
Korean cinema is in an intriguing phase of growth. Chinese and Japanese films, alongside manga and anime, have shared their cultural identities globally. The gateway to East Asian cinema came through Hong Kong legends like John Woo, Tsui Hark, and the Shaw Brothers, and Japanese icons like Akira Kurosawa and Katsuhiro Otomo. Korea’s rich history, mythology, and folklore, however, remain comparatively underrepresented.
That’s where the Alienoid franchise steps in: It’s an ambitious fusion of ancient Korean lore and cutting-edge sci-fi aimed at bridging the cultural gap with an electrifying cinematic experience.
In 2022, Choi Dong-hoon, one of Korea’s most revered filmmakers, introduced “Alienoid,” the first film in the series. It is a kaleidoscopic blend of genres, including time travel, martial arts, comedy, Taoism, fantasy, and alien adventure. The film was two-and-a-half hours of nonstop spectacle, brimming with elaborate visual effects, and intersecting narratives.
While its complexity could be overwhelming, its audacity captivated audiences, offering a genre-defying experience that dared to challenge expectations. Despite the intricate, puzzle-like structure, “Alienoid” thrilled with its creativity, leaving viewers eager to see how the chaos would unfold next.
The story resumes in “Alienoid: Return to the Future,” jumping straight into the action with a concise refresher. Rather than lingering on exposition, the sequel delivers a quick burst of key plot points, helping new viewers find their footing while subtly reminding returning fans of the most critical events. However, while it hints at the bigger picture, the complexity of the plot requires watching both films to fully appreciate the narrative intricacies.
The first film ended with the dastardly aliens failing to execute their plan, leaving the fate of Earth in limbo. The invasion not only threatened present-day Seoul, but the entire planet. Guard/Thunder (Kim Woo-bin) escaped with Lee Ahn (Kim Tae-ri) and traveled back to 14th-century Korea. Now, in the sequel, an older Ahn must recover the Divine Blade, an ancient artifact with the power to defeat the alien threat.
Familiar characters return, including Taoist wizard Mureuk (Ryu Jun-yeol) and his quirky mentors, Cheong-woon (Jo Woo-jin) and Heuk-seol (Yum Jung-ah). These characters inject humor and heart into the intricate plot as Mureuk recovers from the coma he fell into during the first film.
The sequel also retains the high-octane energy of its predecessor, but streamlines the narrative, offering a more focused story. Filming the two movies back-to-back ensured a smooth transition, though the split between the two installments sometimes feels dictated more by editing than narrative breaks. This results in a seamless connection but causes some pacing dips early on. The story feels slower than expected given the urgency implied by its ticking-clock plot.
Kim Tae-ri once again shines as Ean, leaping between timelines with Mureuk while wielding her signature dual pistols in style. The sequel shifts more focus to supporting characters, such as Lee Hanee’s sorceress/investigator Min Gae-in, bringing fresh dynamics to the story. However, while Min Gae-in’s expanded role introduces new narrative possibilities, it feels somewhat underdeveloped. Meanwhile, Kim Woo-bin’s reduced screen time—after being a driving force in the first film—feels like an underutilization of his character’s potential.
Despite its structural quirks, “Alienoid: Return to the Future” delivers on the bold ambition that defined the original. The sequel leans even further into its genre-blending identity, seamlessly merging ancient Korean mythology with futuristic sci-fi. It also weaves a positive narrative of camaraderie and loyalty against overwhelming odds.
From sorcerers battling cyborgs to aliens hunting time travelers, the film offers a stunning spectacle, reminiscent of John Woo’s balletic action, the Shaw Brothers’ martial arts mastery, and the visionary imagination of Katsuhiro Otomo, while still retaining a distinctly Korean identity.
