Flying Lotus Unleashes a Sci-Fi Nightmare with Ash
Written by: chris.
If Ash feels like a Flying Lotus music video stretched into a full-length film, that’s probably because it moves with the same kind of surreal, free-flowing energy. It doesn’t stick to a rigid narrative structure — instead, it glides between eerie sci-fi mystery, hallucinatory horror and bursts of brutal action. It’s a movie that knows exactly what it wants to be: a stylish, nightmarish thrill ride that isn’t afraid to get weird. And when it goes for it, it really goes for it.
From the opening scenes, Ash makes it clear that this isn’t your standard sci-fi fare. The film drops us right into the disorienting aftermath of something awful. Riya (Eiza González) wakes up alone on a distant research station, confused and with no memory of what happened. The place is a wreck — flickering lights, scattered bodies, and a malfunctioning computer system that won’t stop repeating one ominous phrase: “Unusual life form detected.” It’s a familiar setup — a lone survivor piecing together a disaster — but Ash brings enough style and unease to keep it feeling fresh. The early scenes unfold like a first-person horror game, evoking the claustrophobic dread of Dead Space or The Callisto Protocol. Every new discovery raises more questions than answers, especially as the film drops hints that Riya herself may be at the center of the violence. Did she survive… or is she responsible?
The mystery deepens when Brion (Aaron Paul) arrives, claiming to have picked up her distress signal. His sudden appearance adds another layer of tension — especially since the film has already planted the idea that Riya might not be as innocent as she seems. González and Paul play off each other with an easy chemistry, but there’s always a current of distrust running beneath their conversations. Riya is searching for answers, but so are we, and the film never lets us get too comfortable. Their uneasy alliance is made even more unsettling by the ever-present voice of the station’s computer, which never lets us forget that something — something — is still lurking in the shadows.
Where Ash stumbles a bit is in its middle stretch. Through a series of flashbacks, we get glimpses of the rest of Riya’s crew and the mission that brought them to this distant planet. It’s here that the film leans on some familiar sci-fi tropes — the kind of “should we really be messing with this alien life form?” debates that have fueled genre stories for decades. The crew itself is a standard mix of personalities, and while the performances are solid, these scenes lack the strange energy that makes the rest of the film so compelling. Still, even when the storytelling slows down, Flying Lotus keeps things visually striking, layering every frame with saturated neon hues and eerie, otherworldly textures.
When the truth finally comes to light, the film shifts into high gear — and it’s worth the wait. The action sequences are raw and inventive, each one feeling distinct and full of nasty surprises. A standout is a first-person brawl between Riya and Adhi (Iko Uwais), her mission leader, which delivers the kind of fast, bone-crunching intensity Uwais is known for. And while the fight choreography is impressive, what really makes these scenes hit is the sense of desperation driving them. Every punch, stab, and struggle feels personal — an extension of Riya’s journey to understand not just what happened to her crew, but what’s happening to her.
González, who’s shown her action skills in blockbuster franchises before, finally gets a role that uses her full range here. She plays Riya with a mix of raw physicality and emotional vulnerability, making her feel like a real person caught in an unimaginable situation. Paul, too, brings a grounded intensity to Brion, especially as the lines between ally and threat start to blur.
Visually Ash is nothing short of hypnotic. Flying Lotus leans hard into a neon-soaked aesthetic, drenching the station in eerie reds, blues and purples. But unlike some style-over-substance horror, the lighting here doesn’t obscure the action — it enhances it. When things get grotesque (and they do), the camera lingers just long enough to make sure you feel every bloodied grin and torn piece of flesh. There’s a particular scene involving a slow, skin-peeling injury that’s as wince-inducing as it is mesmerizing.
Sonically, Ash might be even more intense than it is visually — which is saying something, given how much the film leans into its bold, neon-drenched aesthetic. The soundtrack is a chaotic mix of glitchy, gritty and downright grimy soundscapes that never let you settle. In the quieter moments, there’s an unsettling, almost mechanical hum that buzzes just beneath the surface, keeping you on edge even when nothing overtly terrifying is happening. But when the film shifts into full-blown horror, the music cranks up to a face-melting intensity, blurring the line between sound design and pure sonic assault. It’s the kind of score that doesn’t just accompany the action — it actively drags you deeper into the nightmare, amplifying every grotesque twist and disorienting turn. Whether it’s the distant whir of malfunctioning machinery or an explosive wall of noise during the film’s most chaotic sequences, the sound is an essential part of what makes Ash such an overwhelming, visceral experience.
At its core Ash isn’t trying to redefine the sci-fi horror genre — but it doesn’t need to. What it does do is take familiar ideas and push them to their most unsettling, visceral extremes. It knows when to play with genre tropes and when to deliver exactly what fans of this kind of gnarly, otherworldly horror want. It’s a B-movie in spirit, but one crafted with a level of skill and precision that elevates it beyond its pulpy roots.
In the end, Ash delivers exactly what it promises: a wild, unsettling ride through the darker corners of space, filled with paranoia, body horror and a whole lot of neon. It’s the kind of film you can imagine becoming a cult classic, lighting up late-night screenings and inspiring whispered conversations about that one scene. If you’re looking for something polished, weird, and unafraid to get under your skin, Ash is well worth the trip.