One of my favorite things in science fiction is when an author or filmmaker gives us some sort of alien creature that has been designed precisely to make us feel an instinctive revulsion and/or fear, and then spends the rest of the book or movie or episode unpacking why that creature is lovable. I love this trope even more when it’s used to point out human xenophobia.
A recent rewatch of Mickey 17 led to me thinking about a my favorite examples of Horrific Monsters I’d Literally Die For, and that, in turn, led to this list.
Which are your favorites?
Shai Hulud — Dune

Sandworms are not cute. The word “lovable” doesn’t really spring to mind—except in a larger, capital-L kind of sense. For Fremen, the Shai-Hulud are instruments of divine power, and the emotion they inspire tips from “love” into something more like “awe”. Attempting to “empathize” with a Sandworm is probably an insult to the Sandworm. In light of that, I wanted to include them, but felt that any spot other than the bottom of the list was kind of disrespectful?
Alien Squid — Watchmen

That Alien Squid did nothing wrong—it was a pawn in a larger game. For all we know, it may have had children it loved, a vast network of friends, a vital role in an advanced, utopian society. Maybe it hosted sparkling Alien Squid cocktail parties. Maybe it volunteered at an animal shelter! It may have held unfathomable wisdom that would have healed our society had we but asked.
It may have joined the ranks of Squishy Monsters Who Are Actually Lovable.
Instead, it was dropped on Manhattan.
I say: JusticeForSquid
Bugs — Starship Troopers

Here’s an interesting thing: as the credits were rolling on my first Starship Troopers rewatch in years, my eyes happened to drift up to my ceiling, and there, in a corner, bristling with legs, was a huuuuge millipede.
Having just spent over two hours reveling in Paul Verhoeven’s satire on othering, jingoism, and forever war, it amused me to glance up and catch myself still having a moment of “EEEUUCH!!!” when I saw this many-legged creature making itself at home in my home. (Did it come out of hiding to watch the movie? Was it worried that I was one of the people who somehow missed the skull-crushingly obvious satire? Should I have shook my head occasionally so it knew I didn’t agree with Johnny Rico’s fascist worldview?)
The Bugs of Starship Troopers never quite become lovable, but that’s kind of the point—the audience can see pretty early that these creatures are intelligent, that they feel pain and fear. It’s also pretty obvious that the humans are the colonizer baddies here, but because we’re trapped in the airless totalitarian bubble with the characters, we only see the same propagandistic news streams they do. There’s no underground resistance, no punk scene, no secretly leftist teacher to confirm that #BuenosAiresWasAnInsideJob, but come on—given that the film ends with Neil Patrick Harris dressed like an Obergruppenführer tormenting a prisoner of war for its secrets, I think it’s obvious where our empathy should lie.
Formic Creatures — Ender’s Game

The 2013 film version of Ender’s Game clues us in to its message pretty early. By day, Ender Wiggin trains to go to war against an alien species known as the Formics. He engages in simulated battles, learns their tactics, and develops his own. But by night, his dreams are linked to the creatures he’s meant to hate. He finally tries to suggest that they might be trying to communicate with humanity through his dreams, but naturally no one will listen—they assume he’s just having anxiety attacks from the stress of his training.
But no.
The Formic leaders open the gates to their civilization because they’re hoping the message got through, and that the humans will be willing to speak rather than attack.
NOPE.
Ender unknowingly leads the attack on their planet that destroys their civilization. And after everything is in ruins he goes out into the world he destroyed, and makes himself look at the horror he’s responsible for. Because of that choice, he finds a dying Formic. He finally comes face to face with his “enemy”—and she’s beautiful. He communes with a dying formic, who gives him her egg.
For my money this is the most effective scene in the film—maybe the only really effective scene in the film—where all the sci-fi trappings are dropped and what we get instead is two characters regarding each other in silence, Ender’s big blue human eyes meeting the Formic’s beautiful, ovoid, lidless, black ones. The Formic reaches out with its giant claw and does its species’ equivalent of cupping the boy’s face. He’s terrified, but he’s clearly more remorseful than anything else. When he starts crying it’s not out of fear but regret. She seems to understand this, and when she offers him the egg she’s managed to save, they both recognize this as a chance at redemption.
Gem Monster — Steven Universe Future

For most of Steven Universe’s run, Steven Rose Quartz Universe cajoled everyone around him into acting with compassion, even when it seemed stupid and/or suicidal, and that worked, and either you went with it or you didn’t. (My personal favorite of these was a deeply upsetting hybrid creature called Centipeetle! One gooey eye and like 8 billion legs! No thank you!)
But in the last season of the show, Steven Universe Future, our favorite cheerful alien/human hybrid child soldier finally faced an enemy even he couldn’t empathy into submission—his own traumatized self. Steven became a rampaging pink Gem Kaiju and menaced the town he’d spent years protecting. It was only his erstwhile Fusion partner Connie who recognized what was happening, and while a group hug calmed him enough to turn back into his human self, the show’s writers were smart enough to pack him off to therapy after that. He had a lot of cosmic war and abandonment issues to process.
The Ohmu — Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind

Hayao Miyazaki’s Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind was an enormous influence on anime, Western animation, and, most recently, Mickey 17, which takes a few of its scenes and turns them inside out for comedic effect.
The Empire of Tolmekia see the Toxic Jungle as a place to be destroyed; Nausicaä, princess of the Valley of the Wind, thinks people should appreciate it and coexist with the monstrous creatures within—you can see how this might lead to some conflict. But as with all things Miyazaki, this isn’t a simplistic tale of good versus evil. There are multiple human factions trying to survive in a difficult post-apocalyptic landscape, and the insects called Ohmu do seem to ravage and irradiate everything they touch… and they’re fucking huge and travel in vast, terrifying herds.
Nausicaä is the one person willing to explore the Toxic Jungle (finally learning that the plants are gradually purifying the land and water beneath, and if people can just be patient, a new, healthier world will grow up around them) but exploration is one thing. What makes Nausicaä special among her people, and makes her a great leader, is that she’s willing to meet the Ohmu where they are. In one extraordinary scene she even looks through the eyes of an Ohmu’s molted shell, literally seeing the world through the eyes of a creature others see as dangerous vermin. Her ability to show people that they’re sentient, caring creatures sets humanity on a path that might, might, save both species.
Maybe.
And for their part, the Ohmu set their own understandable problems with humans aside to resurrect her from the dead… which goes a pretty long way toward their lovability.
Creepers — Mickey 17

It’s fair to say that Mickey 17’s Creepers owe, ummm, a debt to the Ohmu. They’re similarly potato-bug-looking, tardigrade-esque, many-legged, shuffling round creatures—a design that would be adorable if they were smaller. Indeed, the plushy creeper that director Bong Joon ho wielded on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert reduced the talk show host to a starry-eyed child.
But for me, the Creepers come in just above the Ohmu, because by the end of the film they reveal more personality, and aren’t so freighted with spiritual significance. The Creepers spare Mickey 17, but they don’t heal him, give him visions, or welcome him into their herd—they just dump him out on the ice and leave him to make his way home while he screams that he’s, and I quote, “still good meat!” (Gosh I love this movie.) The leader of the Creepers bluffs the humans to a standstill, threatening them with a power she does not actually have. And finally, and most adorably, one of the baby Creepers stands up on its tiny back legs and shows off its tiny high-pitched scream-squeak for Mickey, looking for all the world like a lion cub practicing its roar. And hardened, stone-hearted movie critic I may be, but I’m enby enough to admit that the cuteness of that was overwhelming, and sent the Creepers hurtling up this list.
Horta — Star Trek “Devil in the Dark”

The Horta are a peaceful race, tunneling through the rock deep within the pergium mines on Janus VI. When miners unknowingly break into into the Mother Horta’s nursery and destroy thousands of eggs, it wreaks acidic vengeance, and the miners want to murder the hell out of it. Fortunately for everyone, Kirk and Spock’s calmer heads prevail over violence. Spock mind-melds with the Mother Horta, explains what’s going on, and Kirk proposes that the miners and Horta children strike up a symbiotic relationship—the babies will tunnel, the humans will collect the precious metals they leave in their wake. Watching people in leadership positions tackle a difficult situation with patience, logic, and empathy feels more like fantasy than science fiction at this point, but it’s a nice break from (gestures at life outside of the television screen). The Horta comes in at number one (a) because it’s the only Star Trek anything to make me tear up, and (b) because it’s the most alien creature on this list. It’s a silicone-based life form, its eggs look like rocks, it has no discernible eyes, mouth or ears, and when Dr. McCoy finally agrees to treat the wound Capt. Kirk gave it, he spackles it over with concrete.

I don’t care if it does feel like a sidewalk, I want to hug it.
The squid thing from Watchmen hasn’t got any of those things because it’s a genetic construct made on a remote island.
I also like that the Horta was played by a sfx guy crawling around underneath a rug.
Janos Prohaska was more a suit performer and stuntman than an SFX guy; he made his career playing apes, bears, monsters, and aliens. But he did occasionally design and build his own costumes, including the Horta, so I guess that qualifies as being an FX guy. Prohaska modified the Horta costume from the Mikey, a giant amoeba-like creature he’d played in The Outer Limits.