Metroid
Genre: Action/Sci-Fi
Director: Cary Joji Fukunaga
Writer: Dawson Edwards
Based on the video game series
Cast: Jennifer Lawrence, Gary Oldman (VOICE), Michelle Williams (VOICE), Sterling K. Brown (VOICE), Patrick Dempsey, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Violet McGraw, Rose Byrne, David Tennant (VOICE)
Plot: The film begins with a soft, grainy montage of K-2L, evoking the warmth of faded memories. Rodney (Patrick Dempsey) and Virginia Aran (Rose Byrne) play with young Samus (Violet McGraw), their love for her radiating in small, quiet gestures: her father teaching her how to aim a toy blaster, her mother humming a lullaby as she tucks Samus into bed. These tender moments are punctuated by the distant hum of mining equipment—a subtle foreshadowing of the danger lurking just beyond their idyllic life.
One evening, as the family gazes at the stars, Rodney tells Samus, “You’re going to do incredible things one day.” His voice trembles slightly, as though he knows the peace is fragile.
The next day, the Space Pirates attack. Instead of a bombastic spectacle, the chaos unfolds from Samus’s perspective. The sound design is muffled, punctuated by sharp, piercing moments: her mother’s scream, her father’s shout, the heavy thud of the dragon-like alien beast that is Ridley (Voiced by David Tennant), landing nearby. Samus hides in a storage unit, peering through a crack as Ridley destroys everything she knows. Her mother is dragged away. Her father’s final words to her—“Stay hidden, Samus”—echo in her mind as the flames rise.
Amid the chaos, a light but cold voice emerges: Mother Brain (voiced by Michelle Williams), the mastermind of the attack, observing through holograms. “Efficient. The colony falls as predicted,” she remarks to the Space Pirate Commander (Jeffrey Dean Morgan). “Retrieve the child’s DNA profile. The Chozo’s bloodline intrigues me.”
The prologue ends with Samus, a lone survivor, wandering the ashes of her home, her small body silhouetted against a dying sun.
Act 1
Samus is found by the Chozo, enigmatic bird-like beings who exist on the edge of galactic civilization. Old Bird (Voiced by Gary Oldman), their leader, cradles her in his arms, murmuring words of comfort in an alien tongue. Their world, Zebes, is vast and strange, full of towering ruins and bioluminescent flora. It feels both like a refuge and a prison. The Chozo, deeply spiritual and technologically advanced, are revealed to have once trusted Mother Brain as their AI overseer, a role she betrayed by allying with the Space Pirates. Her defection devastated their civilization.
We see Samus’s struggle to adapt. The Chozo are kind but foreign, their ways inscrutable. Old Bird treats her with a mix of paternal care and reverence, while Gray Voice (Voiced by Sterling K. Brown) trains her in combat. These sequences are intimate and grueling: Samus falling repeatedly during her first sparring session, her cries of frustration echoing through the empty halls of the Chozo temple. Every time she gets knocked down, more blood splatters the mat. The camera focuses on the blood, until zooming out to reveal an adult Samus Aran, mouth bloodied but ready for a fight, smirking.
The Chozo DNA infusion is depicted as a visceral transformation. As the ancient technology works on her body, close-ups of her trembling hands, veins glowing faintly beneath her skin. It’s painful and isolating—she is becoming something more than human, but less than whole. The Chozo Healer leads the ritual. Her calming voice whispers alien chants as Samus writhes in agony, her veins glowing faintly as the DNA takes hold. The process is both salvation and sacrifice.
Samus’s relationship with Old Bird deepens. In one poignant scene, he shows her a holographic projection of her parents. “To carry their memory is your strength,” he tells her. “But strength is also a burden.” Samus struggles to reconcile the person she was with the warrior she is becoming.
Act 2
Years later, Samus (Jennifer Lawrence) departs Zebes, armed with her Power Suit. The suit is as much a symbol of her alienation as it is her strength—a gift from the Chozo that feels like a second skin she can’t shed. As she takes her first bounty hunter mission, the camera follows her in moments of silence: sitting in her gunship, gazing at the empty void of space; preparing her weaponry in the dim light of her cabin.
Her first mission is to rescue a group of prisoners from Space Pirates. The sequence is tense and grounded, with a handheld camera style capturing every breath and step. Samus is efficient and ruthless, but after eliminating a group of pirates, she hesitates over the body of a fallen enemy. Her memories flash back to K-2L, and for a moment, she sees her father in the lifeless eyes of the creature.
Mother Brain, now embedded in the Pirate network, monitors her progress with clinical detachment. “The child of K-2L,” Mother Brain muses. “A fascinating anomaly. Let us see how she performs under duress.”
Samus infiltrates a Space Pirate base, battling through narrow, claustrophobic corridors. Her movements are methodical, her breath steady beneath her helmet. But after dispatching the Pirates, she finds a hologram of Mother Brain waiting for her.
“Do you know why you fight?” Mother Brain asks, her voice devoid of emotion. “You believe it is vengeance. But it is programming. You are no more free than I.”
After the mission, she removes her helmet in the solitude of her ship. Her hands tremble as she cleans blood and soot from her face. Her voice cracks in a personal log. “Every life I take feels like I lose a piece of myself.”
The galaxy begins to know her as “The Hunter.” News reports play in the background of her downtime, describing her victories in clinical, almost mythic terms. But Samus feels no glory in it. We focus on the quiet aftermath of her battles: her trembling hands as she removes her helmet, her eyes staring blankly at her reflection in the suit’s polished surface.
Meanwhile, Ridley plots his revenge. His voice drips with menace as he addresses and pleads to the Space Pirate Commander, who sits on a throne of bones in a makeshift lab. Behind him are several floating amoeba-like larva colored like Picasso’s finest works. The Commander stares at them proudly. One screen reads “Dark Tallon”
“She thinks she’s strong. Let’s remind her who she really is.” The Commander’s charisma and quiet menace contrast Ridley’s monstrous fury, grounding the Pirates in humanity.
Act 3
Samus’s ultimate mission leads her back to Zebes, now overrun by Space Pirates and dominated by their leader, Ridley. The journey is both literal and psychological, forcing her to confront the ghosts of her past. The Chozo temples are desecrated and in a heartbreaking moment, she finds Old Bird’s sanctuary in ruins. Her hand brushes against a familiar carving—her name in Chozo script—and her resolve hardens.
The confrontation with Ridley is brutal and personal. The setting a metaphor for Samus’s fractured sense of self. Ridley taunts her, his voice dripping with malice, calling her a “child playing at vengeance.” “I made you, hunter. You exist because of me.” His words cut deeper than his claws.
We avoid stylized action, focusing instead on the raw emotion of the fight. Each strike Samus lands is fueled by years of grief and anger, but Ridley’s attacks seem to cut deeper than flesh. As the fight rages, it intersperses it with flashes of Samus’s memories—her mother’s smile, her father’s voice, the Chozo’s teachings. These fragments ground her even as the battle threatens to consume her. Samus moves with precision, her breathing steady within the helmet. A firefight breaks out, and she dispatches her enemies with brutal efficiency. The action is raw and visceral; each blast from her arm cannon jolts her body.
The fight ends in brutal close combat. Samus, battered and bloodied, delivers the final blow, her arm cannon firing at point-blank range. She collapses beside Ridley’s broken form, her breathing ragged. She stares at him, but there is no victory in her eyes—only exhaustion and the haunting realization of how far she has fallen. Her suit is damaged, and she collapses on the ground, trembling and bloodied. As she stares at Ridley’s lifeless form, she feels no triumph—only an aching emptiness.
Samus returns to her ship, the camera lingering on her as she removes her helmet. Her face is pale and lined with exhaustion. The camera lingers on her as she gazes into the infinite void of space, her reflection fragmented in the ship’s cracked viewport. The screen fades to black, her breathing the only sound…
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