Lessons in Humanity from Our Favorite Resident Alien

Why are we here, what do we need to survive, and who matters to us? Such moral quandaries surround SYFY’s blisteringly funny and perfectly executed dramedy mystery, Resident Alien, more so than most other series on the airwaves. Over various episodic arcs on the show, our titular extraterrestrial, who embodies human doctor Dr. Harry Vanderspiegel (Alan Tudyk), and his nurse, Asta Twelvetrees, played by the magnetic Sara Tomko, embark on some scheme to save the planet. 

Resident Alien inherits its revolutionary roots from the story’s original home, independent comic publisher Dark Horse, the largest comic company outside of The Big Two. With Resident Alien now in its televised format, we get to bear ear-dience(?) to the comedic genius of Tudyk, in this epic saga containing intergalactic invasions, friendship, love, lots and lots of pizza, and lifeforms sexually aroused by someone picking their nose.

Heralding cries for compassion, mutual respect, reverence for the land, and a commitment to progress, Resident Alien takes place in a small town called Patience, Colorado. A town much like any other on planet Earth, it’s surrounded by natural beauty and filled with human beings. The thing is, Harry hates human beings. Throughout the course of Resident Alien, the creature who inhabits Harry’s body learns to experience his emotions, build bonds, make mistakes, and become, ultimately, the thing he detests most. This wasn’t in the directive for him, however; he was actually sent to Earth to destroy it. Instead, he and Asta, alongside her dad, best friend, and two neighborhood kids, undertake the task of protecting the planet and everyone else on it. 

Many locals in Patience belong to the Ute tribe, and their philosophies and practices define the show’s message. Various rituals, Ute or otherwise, appear throughout, giving gravitas to the plot’s major moments and helping us to understand the lessons we’re supposed to learn. For instance, when Asta mourns her boss’ passing at the start of the series, her father, played by Gary Farmer, cuts her hair in a traditional gesture of grief; and in a similar ceremony, one of sisterhood, she and her best friend, D’arcy (Alice Wetterlund), burn Asta’s asshole ex-husband’s football sweatshirt. Resident Alien is rich with not only narrative easter eggs (the storytelling craftsmanship is astounding, and spans dimensions), but also moralistic ones, too, that apply to the current crisis of divisiveness in our country.

Lessons from Resident Alien, derived from Ute tradition mixed with the town’s local folklore, teach us to surround ourselves with the right people. Back in its mining days, the town of Patience suffered a great tragedy when their mine collapsed. 59 of the the guys made it out alive, but one was still inside; they all went back to save him, and they all died. 59 people died to save one. The people of Patience honor the legacy of these miners (“To the 59!” cheer patrons of the town’s pub, so aptly named The 59), who understood that the value of a single human life is unquantifiable, undeniably even more so to someone who loves them. A member of the Ute tribe, a Patience resident, and an inherently good person, Asta passes the lessons she learned from her upbringing onto Harry as he grapples with the weight of existence, the longing to connect with one another, and the ways he sometimes falls short as a human being with normal, mortal flaws. His friends and loved ones, including Asta, help him emotionally evolve and figure out right from wrong, and as the series goes on, Harry returns the favor in kind, making The 59 proud, and proving Patience is the place to be. “If he can’t see the value of human life here,” notes Asta’s dad in Season 2, “then we might as well be extinct.” Set on the backdrop of a majestic landscape, in a town where people care about their loved ones, their neighbors, strangers, and everyone in between with equal fervor, it’s not hard to understand what Dan means.