"Don't worry Parker... you'll get what's coming to you."90 minutes later, Ripley's words prove unfortunately accurate as an alien life-form makes mincemeat out of Parker's jugular.
Before he started making prestige period pictures, Ridley Scott made one of the most frightening movies of the 70s.
"Alien" (1979) tells the story of the deep-space miner Nostramus and its ill-fated 6-man (or is it 5...) crew. Midway through the ship's journey back to earth, the computer intercepts a signal from a mysterious planetoid and wakes up the crew to investigate the source. They discover a brand new organism known as Facius Succubus and bring it back on board. I don't want to go into too much detail, but if you have ever seen any American horror movie made in the last 40 years, you know where this is headed.
As a part of the film's 30th anniversary, Chicago's Music Box is screening a brand new print of the Director's Cut. It was a complete treat to catch "Alien" on the big screen. Even though I had already seen it twice on TV, this time I thought about the sexual/rape subtext less as the immediate terror took a hold. See for reference- Dallas' demise in the airshafts. One member of my party even let out a little yelp (Ensuing chuckles let us know that unlike space, in a movie theater everyone can hear you scream).
In some sense, it is surprising how effective the film is. At its core, "Alien" is a slasher film, as the audience watches one crew member after another fall prey to the Xenomorph. Even in 1979, one would be hard pressed to argue for the film's originality. Further, the alien itself has become a pop-culture icon, mitigating its ability to be a truly terrifying creature. In a post-AVP cinematic world, can we really be that scared?
What makes "Alien" effective 30 years later is not the creature design or the crew members' deaths. Rather, it is the sense of complete isolation that builds over the course of the film. Scott does a beautiful job of combining atmosphere and characer to achieve this goal. From the first interior shot of the Nostramus, it feels dark, dirty and neglected, roaming through deep space. Although it sports a fantastically creepy score courtesy of Jerry Goldsmith, the most effective sound in the movie is silence. Even before the face-sucker arrives on the ship, the crew (and audience) are threatened by the absence of light and sound, waiting for a monster who may or may not be there. The film is often praised for only showing part of the Xenomorph, rather than giving it all away. Just by virtue of Alien's position in the pantheon of American culture, this effect is somewhat lessened. Rather, the best and most tense parts of the movie are the segments between the attacks.
This brings us to the importance of character. Even at their most antagonistic, the crew of the Nostramus are written as recognizable human beings (with one obvious exception) rather than cutouts to be thrown to the monster. The way the characters interact with each other conforms less to forced Hollywood cliches and more to expected behavior in deep-space isolation (take for example the hostility Parker and Dallas show Ripley after she refuses them entry on board the ship). Sigourney Weaver is, of course, essential to the film's success. As Ripley slowly becomes aware of how completely alone she is, Weaver allows her character to become vulnerable while retaining her essential aggression.
This movie was originally going to be called "Star Beast", but after watching it on the big screen, it's pretty clear why they changed their minds. Above anything else, "Alien" is about our absolute terror when faced with the unknown.
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