Sigourney Weaver stars in the steamy sequel that takes place in the far reaches of space

Get ready to get gooed again. Even though Ripley — Sigourney Weaver’s alien-busting alter ego — killed herself at the end of the last Alien gunk-athon five years ago, she’s about to wreak more intergalactic havoc in Alien Resurrection, the franchise’s fourth and perhaps slimiest saga yet. To understand the miraculous comeback, think sheep. Ripley’s been cloned eight times from a DNA strand, and a pixieish android named Call (Winona Ryder) must figure out which Ripley’s really Ripley. What else can you expect from the $100 million production, scheduled to open Thanksgiving weekend? French director Jean-Pierre Jeunet (The City of Lost Children) promises ”a more sensuous Alien.” Ripley certainly would agree; she gets it on with one of the goopy beasts in what’s sure to be among the most extraterrestrial unions in movie history. Inspiring such out-of-this-world performances isn’t difficult. ”Find an alien family,” Jeunet says, ”make them sign a contract, then let them drool in front of the camera.”

Alien: Resurrection
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