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Space had seldom seemed dangerous before Ridley Scott applied his no-nonsense approach to this most celebrated of creature features. In reality, the cosmos holds infinite peril; its darkest reaches unfathomable, and its scope reminding us that our place in the universe is small. What lies ahead for us to discover, and will we be happy when we get there?
Alien might have the visual splendour of 2001 (1968), but its leagues removed from the giddy exploration of space that Stanley Kubrickâs sterile classic provided. Scottâs world is formed in reality; a grimy, hostile existence that smacks of truth. The travellers here donât go on a pleasant adventure like the fairytale of Star Wars (1977), and they find no enrichment in the discovery of other life-forms like the crew of the Enterprise. The comparison is rammed home in a seemingly simple sequence where the inhabitants of the filmâs primary vessel, the battered tug Nostromo, land on that fateful planetoid. They donât fly in gracefully like a hundred other sci-fi films. The descent is difficult and fraught with problems. Who knew that internal logic such as this would transform what was to be a Roger Corman-produced B-movie into one of the greatest studio genre pictures ever released?
Alien burst to life when down-on-his-luck screenwriter Dan OâBannon decided to make a ânastyâ version of his cult 1974 film Dark Star (reportedly co-directed by himself and John Carpenter, who took sole credit). The infamously ambitious film school project grew so large that it became a theatrical release. It failed with audiences but has left a lasting mark on SF writers, even helping to inspire genre parody Red Dwarf. With help from his writing partner, Ronald Shusett, OâBannon hatched the plot of his extra-terrestrial opus: Seven astronauts, or âtruckers in space,â are reawakened from hypersleep on the long voyage back to Earth by a distress beacon of unknown origin. On Company orders, they land on the inhospitable LV-426 (named in the sequel) to check it out. They come across a derelict alien craft, and an otherworldly killing machine manages to stowaway on the ship.
At this point, Oâ Bannon was stuck. He had no novel idea for how the alien would board the Nostromo. It was actually Shusett who suggested that one of the crew members be impregnated by a parasite and âgive birthâ to a razor-toothed predator when the ship was in orbit. This one idea is what made Alien a revolutionary spin on the tired monster movie formula. It was what also attracted producers Gordon Carroll, David Giler and Walter Hill to the film, who recognised the sceneâs power right then and there. Giler and Hill completely retooled the script, of course, taking it from exploitation schlock to studio bait in the wake of Star Wars. To this day, their involvement in the film canât be underestimated, especially when they had the foresight to choose a British helmer of commercials to direct the film.
Scott is largely regarded as a visually oriented filmmaker, but he understood the importance of casting a picture correctly. Itâs easy to forget how great the Alienensemble is, given the peerless production work on show. Tom Skerritt, as the Nostromoâs detached Captain Dallas, should be the filmâs lead by default but is killed off long before the film ends. Parker (Yaphet Kotto) and Brett (Harry Dean Stanton) are disgruntled engineers who we miss when their time comes. Lambert (Veronica Cartwright) is a nervous wreck and therefore the audienceâs reflection. Kane (John Hurt) is the unlucky host to the titular beast. Ash (Ian Holm) is the twitchy science officer obsessed with their discovery. And Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) is the tough, resourceful survivor who became an icon by virtue of the fact she was a female in a male-dominated genre (although there were precedents before this). The casting is perfect from top-to-bottom, and helped to give the project some credibility. These people feel like real Average Joeâs tossed into a situation they canât hope to comprehend.
The beauty of Ripley being the icon of the series is the fact that she isnât the central character of Alien. None of them are, really. The events of the film help shape her into the woman we ultimately know in the sequels, but we donât follow her until the climax. Scott is also clever in the way he introduces his characters. When they awake early in the film, the doomed Kane is the first to rise from his slumber; the camera seems to favour him over the others, suggesting that he is the protagonist. But no â heâs the first to wake, and the first to die. We only assume the Captain will take command, but Dallas isnât made for the job. Maybe the strong-willed Parker will suffice? Or the know-it-all Ash, who at least seems to understand the alien better than anyone else. Again, audiences were wrong. Instead, Ash turns out to be an antagonistic android; a âplantâ by the Company to ensure that the Nostromo brought an alien specimen home. The crew is expendable. This rather prescient take on evil corporations protecting their interests is brilliant, and provided a plot thread for the sequels to chew on (as well as robot prep for the directorâs follow-up, Blade Runner). It allows Scott to create an inescapable feeling of claustrophobia â if the alien is worrying, what about the threat that awaits them when they get home? The unnamed corporation, later christened Weyland-Yutani, hangs over the narrative like a spectre.
If thereâs a reason to admire Alien, it is for the incredible photography by Derek Vanlint, rather than the story and characters (although, theyâre both well above other films of their ilk). The visuals are still breathtaking, with some of the finest art direction ever seen in a science fiction film. Thatâs down to Scottâs amazing eye for detail and the still first-rate designs by Ron Cobb and H.R. Giger. The former would give an authenticity to the Nostromo, a ship constructed in real-world logic, while the Swiss surrealist would make the alien surroundings as nightmarish as possible. Gigerâs design of the creature could be the greatest monster in Hollywoodâs considerable canon. The âxenomorphâ is as beautiful as it is frightening; a biomechanoid vision of hell. The alien has never been scarier out of Scottâs hands, often shot in darkness and glimpsed in piecemeal to hide the âman in suitâ effect. So much of the creatureâs intensity is created in our minds.
Scott winds up the tension and paranoia to bursting point, leading to a final 20 minutes of sweat-soaked delirium as Ripley fights for her survival, the last occupant of the Nostromo. When she despatches the beast and succumbs to hypersleep, little does she know that her reprieve will be temporary (say, 57 years). As the credits roll, weâre both exhausted and excited by the possibilities. Alien is a film that leaves you with questions. So many questions. Where did the alien craft come from? It wasnât indigenous to LV-426. Who was the fossilised âSpace Jockeyâ left to die at the derelictâs controls? And just what is the xenomorph? Smart money says that the creature is a higher beingâs form of biological warfare. Some of these questions may be answered in Scottâs forthcoming âprequel,â Prometheus. I just hope he doesnât answer too much.
Are there flaws to a film as majestic as Alien? If one were to pick at it, you could say the pace was languid to modern eyes, but the slow crawl is justified given the power of the pay-off. It also doesnât shock the same way it used to, the victim of three decades of plundering in sequels and rip-offs. But the original still manages to unsettle â the one great innovation at its core, that explosion of entrails, is an evergreen. Not only that, but 33 years later, very little about it has dated â the sign of a true masterpiece.
Alien burrows under your skin and leaves images and moments that youâll never forget. If Jawsmade people scared to go in the water, then Alien might make astronauts think twice about venturing into the unknownâŚ
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