Alien: Earth is a series built on transformation, where bodies mutate, loyalties fracture, and perception itself becomes unstable. Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis opens with one of literature’s most haunting images: Gregor Samsa wakes to find himself transformed into an insect. What follows is not only a tale of bodily mutation but also of social exile, as Gregor’s family recoils and bureaucracy closes in.
Alien: Earth, across its first seven episodes, borrows that legacy. The title of its episode 3, Metamorphosis is no coincidence; the series uses transformation, biological, social, and perceptual, to probe questions of identity, belonging, and power.
Where Kafka isolates a single figure, Alien: Earth multiplies the experiment, scattering metamorphoses across Wendy, Joe, Hermit, Nibs, Slightly, and the Cyborg, Morrow. The result is a layered conversation between classic allegory and modern science fiction.
The opening episodes signal that transformation will not be an isolated incident but a recurring method of storytelling. Each character carries traces of metamorphosis, whether through body, mind, or circumstance, and the show positions these changes as both frightening and generative. Instead of treating mutation as an end, it frames it as the beginning of new conflicts and new maps of identity.

Bodies that betray and expand
In Kafka, Gregor’s insect body is grotesque, a prison that severs him from family and work. Alien: Earth stages mutations with similar violence: a lung grafted from a Facehugger, a newborn Xenomorph erupting from Arthur, Wendy’s rebirth inside a synthetic body.
Each shift destabilizes identity and marks its host as other, yet the show diverges by making certain changes productive. Wendy’s new body sharpens her senses, allowing her to hear alien frequencies and even communicate across species. Transformation in this universe can fracture, but it can also extend perception and agency.
The series insists that metamorphosis is not a single condition but a spectrum. Some bodies break down, others adapt, and some emerge with gifts that are difficult to categorize. This variability adds complexity to the theme and prevents it from collapsing into a simple metaphor for loss.
Alien: Earth pushes us viewers to consider whether mutation can be both curse and tool depending on how characters and those around them choose to read it.

Alienation as a social sentence
Gregor’s fate rests not just on his altered form but on how others perceive him. His family sees only a pest. Alien: Earth reproduces this logic when Wendy’s brother Joe at first cannot accept that the woman before him is his lost sister. Recognition arrives slowly, as memory and affection compete with shock.
The Lost Boys, hybrids raised under Boy Kavalier, live with a similar fracture: they are shaped as tools for Prodigy, stripped of autonomy, and reminded that their bodies are company property. Like Gregor, they are measured by utility rather than humanity. Alienation in both texts stems less from the transformation itself than from the refusal of others to grant belonging.
This tension becomes sharper as the season unfolds, since alienation in Alien: Earth is not only emotional but contractual. The corporations control legal identity, transforming human beings into assets. Kafka shows alienation within the family unit, while the show places it in a larger system, yet the consequence is the same: estrangement becomes a sentence handed down by those who decide whose lives matter.

Family ties under pressure
Kafka’s novella dissects family bonds, exposing love that decays into rejection once Gregor cannot provide. Alien: Earth twists this inheritance. Joe refuses to abandon Wendy, fighting to save her even as corporations claim her body. Their sibling bond resists the cold arithmetic of Prodigy and Weyland-Yutani. Yet family is also weaponized: Boy Kavalier acts as patriarch over the Lost Boys, demanding obedience in exchange for conditional care.
Arthur offers genuine kindness but dies in sacrifice, echoing Kafka’s motif of family care corroded by tragedy. The series insists that transformation does not dissolve kinship entirely, but it tests whether loyalty can survive when institutions undermine it.
In emphasizing both loyalty and betrayal, Alien: Earth treats family as fragile territory rather than unshakable ground. The story questions whether blood and memory are enough when power structures redefine bonds. Much like Kafka’s Grete, who first defends Gregor and later rejects him, characters in the series vacillate between care and abandonment, dramatizing the instability of family ties under the weight of metamorphosis.

Bureaucracy as cage
Kafka’s story pivots on the office manager who demands work even as Gregor lies incapacitated. The absurdity of bureaucracy crushes empathy. Alien: Earth amplifies this through its corporations. Prodigy declares Wendy’s body corporate property. Atom Eins enforces rules with lethal threats. Morrow and Yutani haggle over Xenomorph cargo like accountants balancing ledgers. Here, as in Kafka, human needs vanish under policy. Bureaucracy becomes another form of metamorphosis: individuals reduced to cases, contracts, and numbers.
By turning corporations into the architects of transformation, the show reframes Kafka’s critique for a contemporary audience, where bureaucracy is no longer confined to the office but globalized into entire regimes of surveillance and profit. The consequence is a wider, colder exile, suggesting that what Gregor endured in one household is replicated here on a planetary scale.
Language and its failures
Gregor’s insect voice cannot be understood; speech becomes noise. Alien: Earth inverts this dynamic. Wendy’s transformation unlocks new channels: she can hear alien signals and eventually soothe a newborn Xenomorph through a learned vocabulary.
While Gregor loses his language, Wendy gains one, though at a price. Her humanity is questioned precisely because she can translate what others cannot. Communication marks her as both bridge and stranger, a paradox that Kafka would recognize.
This shift highlights the series’ ambivalence toward language. On one side, it offers survival, creating pathways across species. On the other, it isolates the speaker, since being the only one who understands is itself a form of exile. Alien: Earth suggests that language is never neutral; it always positions the speaker within hierarchies of recognition or suspicion.
Shifting roles and unstable maps
Metamorphosis in Kafka reorders family hierarchy: the son becomes burden, the sister caretaker, the father tyrant. Alien: Earth likewise reshuffles roles. Wendy evolves from dependent sibling to leader. Slightly moves from follower to conspirator. Nibs’ imagined pregnancy exposes the hybrids’ anxiety about their function. Even Morrow destabilizes definitions, asking when a machine ceases to be machine. These shifts mirror Kafka’s core insight: transformation unsettles not only the self but the entire social map.
Through these multiple reversals, the series dramatizes how no role is permanent. Just as Gregor’s father rediscovers his authority through his son’s weakness, characters in Alien: Earth find new identities forced upon them. The instability becomes the rule rather than the exception, reminding viewers that metamorphosis is not an event but an ongoing condition.
Between exile and compass: The Metamorphosis vs. Alien: Earth
Where Kafka ends with Gregor’s lonely death, Alien: Earth offers another horizon. The show admits alienation, characters are dehumanized, bureaucratized, and cast aside, but it also insists on direction. Wendy uses her altered body to guide, Slightly leans on friendship as compass, Joe risks everything to hold family intact. Transformation here is not only exile but also potential, a route toward connection forged in instability.
This counterpoint gives the series its distinct voice in dialogue with Kafka. Alienation is undeniable, yet the narrative refuses to stop there. By imagining metamorphosis as a process that can yield solidarity, Alien: Earth revises the tragic closure of Metamorphosis into a tentative opening. Where Gregor’s story collapses, Wendy’s story pushes forward, suggesting that even in exile there may be a compass pointing toward care.
Final take
By weaving Kafka’s Metamorphosis into its DNA, Alien: Earth frames change as both wound and possibility. Bodies mutate, families fracture, corporations dominate, and language falters. Yet amid the alienation, new directions appear: heightened perception, chosen kinship, fragile solidarity.
Kafka showed that metamorphosis isolates while the show asks if metamorphosis might also orient, pointing characters toward each other even when the world insists on their estrangement.
The dialogue between text and screen underscores how a century-old story still reverberates in contemporary forms. What Kafka staged in a bedroom, the show stages across galaxies, but the question is the same: what happens to the human when transformation makes them unrecognizable?
Alien: Earth dares to answer with ambiguity, balancing despair with direction.