The Dog Stars: Ridley Scott rides back into sci-fi with a hopeful post-apocalyptic western — our review

Ridley Scott’s back at it—yes, the same bloke behind Alien and Gladiator—and at the grand old age of 88, he’s decided to try something a bit unexpected with The Dog Stars. Honestly, at this point, I’m less surprised by the fact he’s still churning out major studio films than the fact he’s gone for a low-key apocalypse flick with hints of optimism. Don’t expect chest-bursting aliens this time, but there will be blood, grief, and apparently a lot of staring meaningfully into the middle distance.

The Dog Stars is Scott’s first film since 2015’s The Martian to leave critics mostly positive—and it lands as his most deliberately hopeful work in decades.

We’re not in for a blockbuster spectacle or anything particularly pulse-quickening. Instead, Scott takes Peter Heller’s 2012 novel and turns it into a moody, post-pandemic drama. Think less Mad Max bonkers, more quiet, muddy countryside with a side of trauma. The world’s been ravaged by a flu that’s wiped out most people, so what’s left of humanity are holed up in little country outposts, nervously watching for any marauding nutters trying to nick their supplies. Scott’s approach is deliberate, almost stubborn—if you’re expecting sudden gunfire and desperate chases, you’ll get a bit of that, but only after a long build-up. Most of the runtime is about living, surviving, and—eventually—whether that’s any good without hope and connection.

There’s a striking amount of realism folded into the dystopia, from the ever-present forehead temperature checks to the suspicion and compulsive perimeter-defending. Production designer Chris Seagers makes a good fist of the decaying cityscapes, but the action’s mostly out in the wild and fog, following Hig (played by Jacob Elordi) and the prickly old hand Bangley (Josh Brolin). One’s a guarded, hard-nosed type who deals with unwanted guests from half a mile off; the other’s more into gardens, outdoor naps, and solo, post-trauma flights over what's left of Denver in a plane that looks, frankly, like it should have died along with the old world.

The script comes courtesy of Mark L. Smith (of The Revenant fame), and he doesn’t go easy on the generational faultlines. Bangley stands for pure survival instinct, no trust in anything that moves; Hig, on the other hand, tries to retain some shred of humanity, which is handy, since most of the story’s about whether human decency’s still worth the risk.

• Jacob Elordi as Hig: The sensitive apocalypse gardener.
• Josh Brolin as Bangley: Paranoid old-timer with a hefty rifle and very short patience.
• Margaret Qualley as Cima: New face, another trauma survivor, throws on less and less clothing as things heat up (subtle, Ridley).
• Guy Pearce as Pops: Her dad, master of the suspicious look, filling the movie’s quota of old blokes who don’t trust a soul.
• Allison Janney pops up late on as a glammed-up, slightly terrifying airstrip boss.

Things eventually take off—literally—when Hig ditches Bangley to chase a hopeful radio transmission. Scott toys with Western vibes as Hig’s battered Cessna gives out and he crashes into the lives of Cima and Pops, recreating the same old generation gap, only this time with more emotional baggage and niftier carpentry (they clear trees together, and you can see where that’s heading). It’s all played with more restraint than you’d expect from the director of Black Hawk Down, but when the compound gets attacked or the guns do come out, there’s still enough Scott-ian meat and potatoes to keep it moving.

The oddest bit might be how the film echoes the worst anxieties stirred up by the real COVID-19 pandemic, even though the book’s older than that. Watching survivors fight off plague and paranoia while poking each other with forehead thermometers—it hits differently in 2026.

The emotional core’s supposed to come from Elordi’s Hig, channeling a bit of Bruce Dern from Silent Running (if you know, you know) and Charlton Heston in The Omega Man. He’s convincing enough as your brooding, traumatized everyman, though Brolin’s sour humour and menacing calm steal more scenes than not.

Where it lands is this: surviving isn’t the same as living, and you can’t have hope without sticking your neck out. It’s borderline uncharacteristic for Scott, whose entire thing has always been clenched jaws and ‘get it done’ grit. Maybe it does take a director approaching 90 to decide that, actually, connection and risk are sometimes worth it. If you’re after subtlety, it’s here in spades, though whether it fully lands will probably split the room.

Ridley Scott’s The Dog Stars is his most reserved, least bombastic post-apocalypse film—a deliberate mood-piece that finds brief glimmers of hope amid the classic grit.