8 Answers
Sometimes the switch to an Earthside setting is subtle, and sometimes it’s the whole point, and I find both approaches fascinating. Let me break down how I see it: first, transplants — creators take an otherworldly premise and plant it on Earth (like 'Transformers' bringing alien robots to our cities). Second, hybrids — shows or films keep the alien world but spend significant time on Earth to explore cultural or political fallout (examples include 'The Expanse' and parts of 'Battlestar Galactica'). Third, recontextualizations — classic or mythic stories are remade into contemporary Earth settings ('Clueless' or '10 Things I Hate About You') to highlight themes in modern terms.
Each approach has trade-offs: transplants can make things immediate and relatable but risk losing the original’s exotic flavor; hybrids let you play both sides but can bloat pacing; recontextualizations can be clever or feel gimmicky depending on execution. I usually root for adaptations that respect character and theme rather than just changing scenery for shock value. At the end of the day, if the Earthside choice deepens the story, I’m all in — it often makes the emotional beats land harder, which I love.
I get a kick out of how adaptable a story can be when it’s brought down to Earth. Sometimes that means taking a fantasy or sci-fi premise and reworking it into an urban or contemporary setting so viewers can connect emotionally: 'Clueless' is a cheeky teenage, modern-day spin on 'Emma', and teen-movie retellings like '10 Things I Hate About You' reframe Shakespeare for high school hallways. On the other hand, franchises that are plainly cosmic often set major threads on Earth to ground things — 'Alita: Battle Angel' and 'Ghost in the Shell' are futuristic but very much Earth-based, and 'Stargate' toys with the idea of ancient aliens interacting with human civilization.
From a storytelling angle, I think earthside versions let writers highlight human themes — power, prejudice, identity — that might get lost in purely alien environments. From a practical angle, studios like the familiarity of Earth locations and cultures, which can help audiences latch on faster. Personally, I find it satisfying when the adaptation keeps what made the original special while using Earth to add emotional weight — it’s like seeing the fantastical with our fingerprints all over it.
Watching big, otherworldly stories get shoved onto our planet never stops being fun — and yes, there are plenty of 'earthside' adaptations in film and TV. Studios often take a tale that’s originally set in some distant galaxy, fantasy realm, or alternate dimension and either transplant it to Earth or show its Earth-based counterpart to make it more relatable or cheaper to produce. Think of films like 'Transformers' and 'District 9' where the core conflict happens on Earth, or 'Thor', which mixes Asgardian myth with small-town Earth scenes; those are all examples of off-world concepts presented through an Earthly lens.
What I love about these adaptations is how they let creators explore human reactions to the extraordinary. 'Battlestar Galactica' (the 2004 series) eventually folded in the idea of discovering a long-lost Earth; 'The Expanse' balances cosmic politics with very grounded, Earthside social issues; and shows like 'WandaVision' literally play with Earth-bound sitcom reality to examine grief and power. Whether it’s to anchor characters emotionally, save on worldbuilding costs, or deliberately contrast the alien with the mundane, earthside adaptations have a lot of narrative tricks up their sleeves — and I find the blend endlessly entertaining.
I kinda nerd out over Earthside adaptations because they let me see familiar streets through weird lenses. A few shows and movies that do this well: 'District 9' (sci-fi apartheid on Earth), 'Alita: Battle Angel' (post-apocalyptic Earth city), 'Ghost in the Shell' (near-future urban society), and even 'WandaVision' which bends classic American suburbia into something uncanny.
What keeps me engaged is how these adaptations reveal humanity — characters reacting, governments scrambling, neighbors gossiping — all the down-to-earth stuff that makes the fantastical believable. When done right, the Earth setting becomes another character, and I end up caring more about the stakes. That's my take, and I usually walk away thinking about the little human moments long after the spectacle fades.
Alright, quick and buzzy take: yes, tons of earthside adaptations exist, and they show up in every medium. I get excited about how different teams approach the move from fantastical or foreign backdrops to something that looks and feels like our world. There are literal remakes — 'Oldboy' got a US version, 'Let the Right One In' became 'Let Me In' — and there are adaptations that take supernatural or sci-fi premises and plant them in a contemporary Earth setting, like 'Death Note' (the Netflix version) relocating things to an American city, or 'The Witcher' TV show which, while fantastical, leans into medieval-Earth textures to make its politics and characters hit harder.
On the gaming side, I’m obsessed with how 'The Last of Us' preserved the Earth's emotional ruin and turned it into some of the best TV of recent years; it shows how a largely Earthbound narrative can thrive when handled with respect. Conversely, some projects try to strip exotic elements out for accessibility and lose momentum — I think about how 'Dragonball Evolution' missed the mark by awkwardly squeezing an anime's outré energy into a mundane world. For me, the golden rule is this: if the heart of the story survives the move to Earth — character conflicts, themes, cultural resonance — then the adaptation can feel genuine rather than a cosmetic makeover. I keep watching for the ones that get that balance right.
Short take from my end: yes — earthside adaptations are everywhere, and I find them fascinating. Sometimes 'earthside' just means remaking a foreign film for a new country (see 'The Ring' from 'Ringu' or 'The Grudge' from 'Ju-On'), and sometimes it means grounding fantasy or alien stories in a recognizable real-world setting so viewers can latch onto the stakes.
I enjoy when a team keeps the original’s emotional core while changing setting to something more familiar; 'The Last of Us' is a standout because it stays loyal to the game’s human drama while using our ruined Earth as a powerfully believable backdrop. Other attempts are more awkward — stripping away cultural context or fantastical logic can make an adaptation feel hollow. Still, watching creators decide what to keep, what to rewrite, and what to literally bring to our streets is one of my favorite parts of following films and TV, and it often sparks the best online debates for me.
Totally — lots of film and TV projects bring otherworldly source material 'downstairs' to Earth so viewers have a familiar anchor. You’ve got monster-or-alien stories that happen in cities ('District 9', 'Transformers'), sci-fi that explores Earth politics ('The Expanse'), and adaptations that flip settings to modern-day Earth to make themes clearer ('Clueless' from 'Emma').
I enjoy the contrast: the surreal feels sharper when it's juxtaposed with everyday life, and sometimes the most terrifying or moving moments come from that collision. It’s a neat trick and usually works for me.
My brain lights up whenever this question pops up because there are so many flavors of 'earthside' adaptations and they show up all over the place. To me, ‘‘earthside’' usually means either a story originally set in a clearly otherworldly/space/fantastical environment being reimagined on an Earth-like stage, or a foreign work being transplanted into a real-world, terrestrial setting for a film or TV remake. Producers do this for lots of reasons: relatability, budget, and the messy business of cultural translation.
Take remakes like 'Ringu' becoming 'The Ring' or 'Ju-On' turning into 'The Grudge' — those are classic earthside moves where the hauntings are kept but the locale and cultural frame shift. Then there are game-to-screen projects that are inherently earthbound: 'The Last of Us' is a great example of a game whose world is still very much our planet, just broken and infested. 'Resident Evil' movies leaned hard into the crawling-through-basements-on-Earth aesthetic, too. On the other hand, some adaptations try to keep the original fantasy flair while grounding it — 'Fullmetal Alchemist' (live-action) keeps that weird alternate-Earth vibe, and 'Assassin's Creed' the film anchors the Animus sequences with modern, real-world backdrops.
I love seeing which elements directors choose to keep and which they Earth-ify. Sometimes it works beautifully — the emotional stakes feel universal when placed on recognizable streets — and sometimes the change strips away what made the original special. Either way, watching that translation happen is half the fun for me; it teaches you what a story can survive and what it absolutely needs to remain itself.