(I know every ship is supposed to have a mascot, but this is just fucked-up…)
CAST: Tom Skerritt, Sigourney Weaver, Veronica Cartwright, John Hurt, Ian Holm, Yaphet Kotto, Harry Dean Stanton, Jones the Cat, Sparky the Alien.
DIRECTOR: Ridley Scott
WARNING: SPOILERS and astronaut-abuse up ahead…
Imagine, if you will, the classic flick ALIEN being made (or, Dear Lord in Heaven, remade) in this day and age. You can bet your ass that the following things that made it such a classic would quickly go the way of the Edsel, Betamax, HD-DVD, and Madonna’s acting career: (1) the deliberate and hypnotic pace, (2) the elegantly built-up suspense setpieces, (3) the cast of “older” characters, (4) the subtly-ominous-then-suddenly-primal-and-terrifying musical score, and (5) the decision to keep the monster in the shadows until close to the end.
Nope, I’m fairly certain we’d wind up with the following: (1) the alien ripping out of a crewmember’s chest by page 10, (2) the suspense set-pieces being shot in “shaky-pukey” cam mode and being over and done with before you know it, (3) a cast of young and sexy astronauts top-lined by Channing Tatum and Megan Fox, (4) a “horror movie music for Dummies” score that telegraphs each scare from ten miles away, and (5) a monster that goes “Full-Monty” in the very first kill scene - all the better to show off the allegedly-good CGI that constituted the bulk of the budget. In other words, folks, it would be utter crap.
I first saw ALIEN as a little kid (another telling piece of the puzzle) and remembered being scared out of my Superman underwear, but unable to look away. Even then, I could appreciate the delicious thrill offered by a good horror film. Watching the crew of the ill-fated ship Nostromo get decimated one by one by the nasty, slimy thing flitting in the shadows (looking like a cross between a crab, a preying mantis, and a giant dildo) was an experience I’ll never forget.
Even after a hundred or so repeat viewings, ALIEN still has the power to chill and make you think twice about peering into a dark, narrow, confined space - especially if you have a cat who knows your phobia and ruthlessly exploits it by hiding in said dark, narrow, confined space and jumping out at you to test the strength of your bowels. That’s okay, though, because until that little shit grows opposable thumbs, I’m still in control of the can opener.
But I digress…. The plot of ALIEN is deceptively simple and definitely elegant: seven astronauts enroute back to Earth after a job are awakened by the ship’s computer, Mother, because of a distress signal emanating from a nearby planet. We are quickly and efficiently introduced to this little blue-collar family of “space truckers,” as many reviewers have called them.
There’s Dallas (Tom Skerritt), the bearded captain who is soft-spoken but carries a rather large stick which he is not afraid to use on the whiners of the crew. You know the type: an obvious graduate of the Tough Love Academy of Space Captainship. His #2 is Kane (John Hurt), a space cadet (literally and figuratively) who seems like the kind of guy that you would run away from at a cocktail party for fear of being trapped into a conversation about Thermonuclear Dynamic Exchange Between Carbine Boosters. Then we have Ripley (Sigourney Weaver), the Warrant Officer who comes across as a cold fish and by-the-book tough cookie - in other words, what most sociologists clinically refer to as a “bitch.” Acting as a counterpoint to driven Ripley is scaredy-cat Lambert (Veronica Cartwright), who always looks one jolt away from shooting thirty feet into the air and slamming her head into an air vent. The Science Officer is Ash (Ian Holm), a stoic and diligent chap who is 100% focused on his work as evidenced by his inability to talk about anything that doesn’t have to do with bending over a petri dish or dissecting something gross. Rounding out the crew are Heckle and Jeckle wannabes Parker (Yaphet Kotto) and Brett (Harry Dean Stanton), who spend their hours arguing about their “shares” and generally getting on Ripley’s nerves.
At any rate, they touch down on the planet to investigate the distress signal. Dallas, Kane, and Lambert suit up and head out into the inhospitable terrain. Meanwhile, back at the Nostromo, Ripley manages to decode the signal and alerts Ash that it sound more like a warning. She decides to suit up and go after the trio already outside to stop them. Ash, however, basically tells her she’s being a fucking drama queen and that she needs to just shut up and fix dinner. Or something.
This works, because Ripley promptly drops the idea of going out after the others and sulks in her office, obviously plotting Ash’s death. If you’re wondering where Brett and Parker are while everyone else is doing something important, you won’t be surprised to learn that they are in the engineering section, listening to Ash slam Ripley over the intercom. Which they celebrate by giving each other a high-five that sounds like a gunshot in the confined space. Or it just could’ve been one - or both - of them farting.
At any rate, Dallas, Kane, and Lambert have reached the source of the distress signal: a spaceship of extra-terrestrial origin. I know this because no human being - no matter how futuristic - would create a spaceship that looks like two Loch Ness monsters humping. This is confirmed when the human trio enter the ship and find the remains of one of the crew, which looks like an elephant the size of King Kong.
Unfortunately, that’s not the only thing that they find: in the lower decks of the Loch-Ness-Monsters-Humping ship, they find lots and lots of… eggs. Kane, ever the situationally-detached space cadet, dives right in to investigate, not thinking for even a second that the slimy-looking eggs may be - oh, I don’t know - dangerous? For his bravado, he gets rewarded with a big, wet French Kiss from the crab-like tenant of one of the eggs, which most likely constitutes Kane’s first sexual encounter with anything - ever.
Panicked, Dallas and Lambert drag Kane back to the ship. Clinging to Kane’s face like a needy ex-girlfriend who just doesn’t understand the meaning of “Get the fuck out of my life, you blood-sucking leech,” the creature hitches a ride back to the Nostromo, as well. Ooops. At the ship, the creature’s agenda is almost kiboshed by Ripley, who refuses to let the trio back inside, blathering about “quarantine protocols” or some other type of convenient bullshit. Unfortunately, Ash - who is rapidly shaping up to be a complete dick who rivals Ripley for sheer abrasiveness, overrides her command and allows Kane, Lambert, Dallas, and Kane’s girlfriend through the airlock.
Suppressing the urge to bludgeon Ash with a keyboard - at least, until she can get him alone - Ripley joins the rest of the crew in the Med Lab, where Kane and his many-legged paramour are continuing their impromptu honeymoon. Perturbed by the sight of inter-species oral love, the others urge Dallas to cut the thing off. Dallas, obviously having been interrupted mid-coitus himself in the past and not liking it one bit, says no. Presumably, however, it wasn't with something that you can order at your local Red Lobster.
Fortunately, things resolve themselves when the creature just falls off Kane’s face and dies. Obviously, the non-stop face-humping finally took its toll on the little fucker’s four hearts. Kane eventually revives and says that he doesn’t a remember thing. Of course, if I spent the last 12 hours getting face-fucked by something from the Crab Nebula, I would claim amnesia, too.
Anyhow, the crew celebrates by having one last (for most of them, it truly is) meal before going back into the hypersleep tanning booths. Unfortunately, Kane doubles over after chowing down on some Chow Mein, heaving and spazzing all over the place as if two cattle prods had been simultaneously shoved up his ass and down his throat and are now meeting each other half-way in his stomach for a fireworks display of interstellar proportions.
Just when Dallas is about to do the “Tough-Love” thing and tell Kane to stop being such a fucking drama queen, the product of the Kane-Crab Creature romance erupts out of his chest and onto the table to grin at his aunts and uncles. Looking like a cross between a crab, a preying mantis, and a giant dildo, it’s obvious that Kane, Jr. got absolutely nothing from the terrestrial side of his lineage. Immediately bored with the six looks of utter horror directed at him, the Alien laughs and screeches, “Well, gotta dash!” and zips out of the dining room to find a quiet place where it can plot everyone’s death.
The rest of the film basically chronicles the Alien’s murderous strategy as it turns the Nostromo into a deep space-equivalent of the small island in AND THEN THERE WERE NONE:
Six scared little astronauts,
Nervous and talkin’ jive,
Brett wandered into a dark garage,
Got his ass chewed by Kane, Jr.
And then there were five….
Five little silly astronauts,
Pissed off that Kane had to be such a goddamn whore,
Sent Dallas into the vents,
But he got his macho ass bit,
And then there were four…
Four trembling little astronauts,
So scared, they could almost pee,
Ash turned out to be a robot,
Threw them under the bus,
And then there were three….
Three little terrified astronauts,
Trying not to get turned into Human Stew,
Parker went mano-a-mano with Kane, jr.,
Well, you don’t have to be a fucking genius
To figure out that now there’s only two.
Two female astronauts,
Left alone on the Nostromo with Kane’s son,
Lambert was a spineless piece of shit,
Now there’s only one…
So… with Ripley and Jones the Cat the only ones left alive, Ripley commands Mother to set the ship’s automatic self-destruct mechanism. Probably should have checked the escape shuttle first, though, because when she and Jonesy try to flee into the craft, the Alien is right there with its arms spread wide open, saying: “I’m so glad you’re early. We’ll start barbequing in about an hour. In the meantime, do you prefer to be served rare or medium-rare? Oh, silly me… that really is my call, isn’t it?”
Screaming like a banshee, Ripley rushes back to the engine room to cancel the self-destruct countdown. Unfortunately, Mother doesn’t like people who don’t plan ahead and basically gives Ripley the “Flashing Middle Finger” sign - right before telling her that the ship will explode in five minutes, anyway. “How do you like them apples?” inquires Mother.
Ripley answers by smashing her flame-thrower into the console, which is of little concern to Mother, because there are hundreds of other consoles left on the ship. And it still doesn’t change the fact that Ripley is toast if she doesn’t move her ass, but quick. With Mother chanting “Bitch Gonna Die! Bitch Gonna Die! Bitch Gonna Die!” over the intercom, Ripley makes a quick exit to prove her wrong. Or try to, anyway.
With no choice but to go back to the escape shuttle, Ripley is relieved to find Jones unharmed and the shuttle empty of anything slimy or many-legged. She and the cat buckle up and zoom the fuck out of dodge - just as the Nostromo explodes into a kazillion pieces. After the last of the explosions fade into the distance, Ripley sneers and whispers, “I got you, you sonofabitch!”
At that point, the Alien politely taps Ripley on the shoulder and whispers back, “No, bitch, you most definitely did not.”
Freaking out, Ripley locks herself in a closet and dons a space suit. She emerges with a spear-gun, and after a brief scene where she floods the shuttle with steaming gas to flush out Kane, Jr., she manages to toss him out the door and into space.
Clearly inheriting Kane‘s tendency to do stupid things, the Alien crawls into the shuttle’s jet engine tunnel, trying to find a way back into the ship. Ripley, wanting to be helpful for a change, shows him that this is not an approved entry point by hitting the “Hyperdrive” button - which reduces Kane jr. to critter-fritter. The End…. At least, until ALIENS.
BUT, SERIOUSLY: What else is there to say, except that ALIEN is the perfect sci-fi/horror film. From its plot structure, to its character development, to its carefully-wrought setpieces, to its atmospheric look and music, and even to its classic tagline (“In Space, No One Can Hear You Scream…”), this film is the epitome of elegant terror. Never again will we see them made this way again, especially in this age of ADD film-making. This movie, like BLADE RUNNER, set the tone and standard for many sci-fi thrillers to come. It also helped cement the viability of female characters saving the day - and themselves. The interesting thing about Ripley is not so much her strength, but her complexity. We see her terrified, we see her be almost unlikable, and we also see her tender. In other words, she’s human. Unlike the legion of cliched ass-kickers that she inspired, who are more like cartoons without a soul. Ripley had soul, which is why the character endured for three more movies.
Let’s hope that the ALIEN prequel that the Genius-Known-As-Ridley-Scott is helming will harken back to the dark dread and beauty of this original classic. And, please God…. Don’t let it star Megan Fox or Channing Tatum. That’s all I ask.
