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Alien³Still of Sigourney Weaver and Charles S. Dutton in Alien³Still of Sigourney Weaver in Alien³Alien³Still of Lance Henriksen in Alien³Alien³


Ripley continues to be stalked by a savage alien, after her escape pod crashes on a prison planet.

Release Year: 1992

Rating: 6.4/10 (101,433 voted)

David Fincher

Stars: Sigourney Weaver, Charles S. Dutton, Charles Dance

After escaping from the alien planet, the ship carrying Ellen Ripley crashes onto a remote and inhabited ore refinery. While living in the ore refinery until she is rescued by her employers, Ripley discovers the horrifying reason for her crash: An alien stowaway. As the alien matures and begins to kill off the inhabitants, Ripley is unaware that her true enemy is more than just the killer alien.

Writers: Dan O'Bannon, Ronald Shusett


Sigourney Weaver

Ellen Ripley

Charles S. Dutton


Charles Dance


Paul McGann


Brian Glover


Ralph Brown


Danny Webb


Christopher John Fields


Holt McCallany


Lance Henriksen

Bishop II

Christopher Fairbank


(as Chris Fairbank)

Carl Chase


Leon Herbert


Vincenzo Nicoli


Pete Postlethwaite


3 times the suspense. 3 times the danger. 3 times the terror

Release Date: 22 May 1992

Filming Locations: Albert R. Broccoli 007 Stage, Pinewood Studios, Iver Heath, Buckinghamshire, England, UK

Box Office Details

Budget: $63,000,000


Opening Weekend: $23,141,188
(25 May 1992)

Gross: $159,773,600

Technical Specs



(2003 Special 'Assembly Cut' Edition)

Did You Know?


Early versions of the script and design featured a giant rustic monastery. Also, the alien itself would not be appearing.


Dillon's glasses disappear after Golic frees the alien.


[first lines]

Computer Voice:
Stasis interrupted. Fire in cryogenic compartment. Repeat, fire in cryogenic compartment. All personnel report to emergency escape vehicle launch pod. Deep-space flight will commence in T-minus twenty seconds.

User Review

An abomination of near-epic proportions

Rating: 1/10

One would love to have heard the story planning sessions for this
abysmal third film that pretty much put the final nail in the series
coffin before a lackluster attempt to revive it with another ill-fated
fourth film. Ridley Scott's original was a simple And Then There Were
None haunted house feature set in outer space, but filled with
jaw-dropping class and style that made it stand out from the pack of a
number of worthless imitators. James Cameron's sequel was a virtual
text book on how a sequel should be made in that it upped the ante both
action-wise and emotionally by expanding the Sigourney Weaver
character, getting the audience firmly on her side and giving her a
compelling relationship with a daughter figure. If the first film was
an homage to a haunted house film, then the sequel is a rip-roaring
homage to war films.

By contrast, it is difficult to figure what the goal of David Fincher's
atrocious sequel is aiming for. It does not up the ante action-wise nor
does it expand the characters from the prior films. In fact, Fincher's
audience-hating mess offs two of the major characters from the prior
film in the opening moments and sidelines another – apparently because
of lack of imagination. We then discover relatively early in the
proceedings that the leading lady is living on borrowed time, which all
but eliminates any rooting interest in the film. While creatively
Fincher has license to eliminate audience favorites from the prior
films, he cannot jettison them with so little respect and then not
replace them with characters at least as interesting without it seeming
like a slap in the face, but that is exactly what he does. The denizens
of the prison asteroid where the doomed heroine and her ill-fated crew
crash in the opening moments is populated by an interchangeable melange
of nobodies who blur together.

The storyline, such as it is, conspires a dubious and illogical
scenario of how an alien could have accompanied our heroine and then
propagated itself on the asteroid. Rather than an army of aliens (a la
Cameron), Fincher ratchets it back so far that we instead get one
modest-sized alien that is far less intriguing or frightening than the
one found in Ridley Scott's original. Action-wise we get badly
directed, murky-looking scenes of frantic bald men running down
hallways. The alien moves at the speed of sound (almost like a Benny
Hill sped-up sketch) so that it would be impossible to elude it, yet a
number of characters illogically seem able to outrun it.

Fincher makes it clear from the start that he is far less interested in
action or character development, but merely wishes to hang his own
bizarre stabs at style onto an unwieldy framework – and stylistically
he is no Ridley Scott or even a James Cameron. Why Weaver, who no doubt
could have negotiated for a better story, would have returned and
participated in this pap is indefensible. Even worse, why 20th Century
Fox did not just end a promising sci-fi saga on a brilliant note and
instead chose to have it interred and vivisected by hacks is equally
unknowable. As it is, we have the perfect example of Class 101 on how
NOT to make a sequel in a successful franchise.