The Final Frontier of Poor Decision-Making
Every once in a while, a movie comes along that’s so bizarrely earnest it transcends bad filmmaking and lands somewhere between what were they thinking? and is this a cry for help? That movie is InAlienable, a 2007 science fiction “drama” written and produced by Walter Koenig — yes, that Walter Koenig, Chekov from Star Trek, here boldly going where no sane screenwriter has gone before.
Directed by Robert Dyke (who previously worked with Koenig on Moontrap, another cinematic fever dream), InAlienable is what happens when someone watches E.T., The Fly, and an episode of Law & Order back-to-back while on NyQuil and decides to combine them into one movie. The result is a heartfelt mess about parenthood, humanity, and bioethics — if those concepts were discussed in a courtroom run by aliens and lunatics.
It’s a movie that asks big questions like: “What makes someone human?” and “Can love transcend species?” and “Why does this look like it was shot in a dentist’s office?”
Plot: Alien Parasite Meets Family Court
The story follows Dr. Eric Norris (played by Battlestar Galactica alum Richard Hatch, who looks like he’s silently regretting every career decision since 1978). Norris is a guilt-ridden scientist whose family died in a tragic backstory that the movie keeps reminding you of every ten minutes, in case you missed the memo that he’s sad.
While conducting research on some mysterious alien goo — because of course he is — Norris becomes infected with an extraterrestrial parasite. Instead of eating his organs or turning him into Jeff Goldblum, the alien starts gestating inside him. Yes, folks, our protagonist gets alien pregnant.
Let that sink in: this is a film where a middle-aged man gives birth to an alien-human hybrid. Through his abdomen. In a medical lab.
It’s a sequence so uncomfortable, so utterly tonally confused, that you start rooting for the chestburster from Alien to show up and end everyone’s suffering. But no — this isn’t horror, this is “science fiction with feelings.” Norris, instead of panicking like a normal person, decides to keep the baby. Because apparently abortion laws extend into space.
He names the alien Benjamin, because if you’re going to birth an interstellar life form that might destroy humanity, you might as well give it a nice Biblical name.
A Father’s Love (and Mild Revulsion)
Benjamin, the alien baby, is a grotesque rubber puppet that looks like someone melted a Muppet on a car engine. But Eric loves him anyway — because Benjamin shares his DNA. Which means this is technically both his son and his mutant clone, and possibly his worst decision since inventing the alien goo in the first place.
The relationship between father and alien is meant to be touching. Instead, it’s nightmare fuel. The movie wants you to cry, but you’re too busy wondering how the creature manages to blink out of sync with its dialogue.
As Benjamin grows (and thank God for that time jump), he becomes a vaguely humanoid young man with prosthetics that look like leftover Babylon 5 props. He’s portrayed by actor Bradley Laise, whose performance could best be described as “slightly sleepy salamander.”
The government, naturally, finds out about Benjamin’s existence, and their response is — in classic sci-fi fashion — to put him on trial. Not because he’s dangerous, but because they need to determine if he’s a person or property.
Yes. This movie spends its entire second half as a courtroom drama about alien civil rights.
Order in the Court (of the Damned)
In what must be the most bizarre tonal shift since From Dusk Till Dawn, InAlienable turns from alien birth horror to an extended courtroom sequence about habeas corpus, human rights, and constitutional law. Imagine To Kill a Mockingbird, but with a blue-skinned puppet on the witness stand.
Eric hires attorney Howard Ellis (Erick Avari, valiantly trying to salvage his dignity), and the defense’s case hinges on proving that Benjamin, the space baby, is “sentient” and “deserving of human rights.”
The prosecution, led by people who apparently flunked Logic 101, argue that Benjamin is property of the government — which makes about as much sense as arguing that your cat is a toaster.
Presiding over this intergalactic absurdity is Judge Deville (played by Judy Levitt, Koenig’s wife, because nepotism is apparently a family value). She listens to both sides with the weary expression of someone who knows she’s in a straight-to-DVD movie and will never escape it.
If you’ve ever wanted to hear lawyers argue about whether an alien has the right to own property while the alien’s human father sobs in the corner — congratulations, this is your movie.
When in Doubt, Add a Shooting
Just when you think it can’t get any worse, the movie decides to climax with a courtroom shooting.
Andrew Koenig (Walter’s son, tragically remembered for his later real-life death) plays Emil, a random unstable man who storms into the courtroom and shoots Benjamin — because… reasons. Maybe he was protesting bad writing. Maybe he just wanted out.
Benjamin dies, Eric cries, and the film ends not with resolution but with everyone staring into the middle distance, presumably wondering if craft services has donuts.
The Cast: Lost in Space (and the Script)
Walter Koenig himself plays Dr. Shilling, the jealous rival who despises Eric because they both loved the same woman — who’s now dead. This subplot has no bearing on the story but exists solely so Koenig can sneer and deliver lines like, “You think your alien son makes you special?” with the gravitas of a man fighting acid reflux.
Richard Hatch, who deserves better, tries so hard to sell the emotional depth of a man bonding with his alien offspring. Unfortunately, his acting is buried beneath dialogue so clunky it could’ve been written by ChatGPT’s evil twin.
Marina Sirtis (yes, Counselor Troi herself) plays an attorney named Barry, because the film apparently thought the only thing missing from Star Trek was bad litigation. She does her best with material that reads like courtroom fan fiction written by someone who just discovered spell check.
Erick Avari, who’s been in everything from The Mummy to Heroes, delivers his lines with the calm resignation of a man who knows this isn’t going on his reel.
And then there’s the alien baby — who technically has more emotional range than half the cast.
Production Values: Out of This World (and Budget)
Visually, InAlienable looks like it was shot in a single weekend using leftover sets from a community college’s biology lab. The special effects are so outdated they make 1950s monster movies look like Avatar.
The soundtrack is a crime against the human ear — syrupy orchestral swells underscoring scenes that don’t deserve any music at all. The cinematography, meanwhile, makes everything look like an episode of General Hospital: Alien Edition.
There’s also a persistent orange tint to every scene, as if the director thought “sepia” automatically equals “profound.” Spoiler: it doesn’t. It just makes everyone look jaundiced.
Themes: Fatherhood, Humanity, and Terminal Self-Importance
Koenig has said the movie is “a love story between a man and an alien.” That’s certainly one way to describe it. Another would be “a 100-minute existential breakdown filmed through the lens of a malfunctioning Hallmark card.”
The movie desperately wants to say something profound about love, prejudice, and what it means to be human. Instead, it ends up saying, “We had a camera, a warehouse, and a dream.”
Final Verdict: InAlienable, Unwatchable
InAlienable is the cinematic equivalent of an awkward family reunion — full of familiar faces, forced smiles, and an unshakable desire to leave early. It’s sincere, it’s strange, and it’s so spectacularly misguided that you almost have to respect it.
Almost.
By the time the credits roll, you’ll find yourself questioning not the nature of humanity, but the nature of your life choices that led you to this moment.
Grade: F (for “Fertilized by Alien Goo”)
If you’ve ever wanted to see My Two Dads rewritten by a conspiracy theorist who just watched Star Trek IV on VHS, then InAlienable is the film for you. Everyone else should stay light-years away.
It’s not science fiction. It’s science fictional malpractice.
