Alien (1979) ***

When I was growing up a popular dream job of adolescents was that of astronaut.  In the 1970s and 1980s the U.S. space program was a big deal and, of course, we had grown up watching films like Star Wars (1977), 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), The Empire Strikes Back (1980), and Alien (1979). Yet, unlike many of my peers I wanted nothing to do with the mysteries of space. To me, anyone crazy enough to want to take a chance with the great unknown of the cosmos could have it—they were the type of people who wound end up being killed by face-hugging and intestinal-destroying aliens.  That’s right, director Ridley Scott’s second feature film, Alien, freaked me out so much that had Neil Armstrong himself stopped by my house to offer me a trip to the moon I would have declined. 

Alien was the brainchild of Dan O’Bannon who combined two popular box office genres, horror and sci-fi, to create probably the best sci-fi horror film ever made. Using a story he’d written with Ronald Shusett, O’Bannon penned the screenplay, which incorporated elements from such sci-fi movies as 2001: A Space Odyssey and The Thing from Another World (1951) with horror flicks like Halloween (1978) and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974). Seven crew members aboard the space tugboat, Nostromo, are on their way back to Earth when they receive an unknown transmission from a nearby planet which awakens them from their space-pod slumber.  Regulations say they must investigate all transmissions and so off to LV-426 (not named in this film but in later sequels) they go. They have a bumpy landing and the ship is damaged, so three crew members, Captain Dallas (Tom Skerritt), Navigator Lambert (Veronica Cartwright), and Officer Kane (John Hurt) go out to investigate LV-426 while Warrant Officer Ripley (Sigourney Weaver), Science Officer Ash (Ian Holm) and Engineers Parker (Yaphet Kotto) and Brett (Harry Dean Stanton) are left to fix the ship and monitor the expedition of the other crew members. The explorers find an underground alien egg farm and after Kane pokes one he suddenly finds his space helmet attached to an octopus-like creature.  Dallas and Lambert bring Kane and the creature back to the ship, which for some reason Ash opens after Ripley orders him not to.  The rest of the film is then a series of unfortunate events for the rest of the crew, as they attempt to get the alien off the ship.

Without a doubt the visuals are probably the most spectacular thing about Alien.  The film earned two Academy Award nominations, one for Art Direction and the other for Visual Effects, which it won.  The massive design of the various sections of the 3-deck spaceship and planet LV-426 are pretty awesome, especially when you consider there wasn’t CGI in 1979.  And, of course, the iconic creation of the alien, as well as the creepy android, were highly unique as well. Visual Effects Supervisor Brian Johnson and Bray Studios based many of their designs on Scott’s countless storyboards as well as drawings created by Ron Cobb. What I think sets the alien creatures in the movie apart from their earlier predecessors is just how real the face-hugger, chestburster, and eventually the full-grown alien look. 

While Tom Skerritt received top-billing, everyone knows that Weaver was the main character (countless sequels have more than validated this point).  Still, for more than half the movie it seems like this is an ensemble piece, with each crew member having their own fair share of screen time.  Yet, by the time the alien is almost done running amok on the Nostromo there are only two crew members left on the ship: Ripley and Mr. Jones.  Oh, did I forget to mention Mr. Jones?  Mr. Jones is a tabby cat who plays a pivotal role in why I like Alien so much, but he’s also the reason why I don’t absolutely love it.  Please let me explain.

First, Mr. Jones has the honor of being in my favorite shot in the entire film. After being scared away while Ripley, Parker, and Brett are searching for the alien, Mr. Jones has to be found so his motion doesn’t distract the crew from monitoring the motion of the alien.  And, so Brett is sent, alone, to find the cat. This search leads to a massive chain hanging decorated quadrant of the ship. Instead of jumping into Brett’s arms, Mr. Jones hides behind a door and hisses at what one can only assume is a hiding alien.  When the alien emerges from the entangled chains the scene shifts to and focuses on the cat’s face as Brett is killed by the alien.  It’s such a simple shot, but it’s probably the most memorable one for me.

And, then there’s the most inane, idiotic thing about Alien…who in their right mind would go looking for a cat when you are trying to get materials together for an emergency shuttle escape right before you blow up the ship, and consequently, the alien?  In no world does it make any sense that Ripley, who’s seen members of her crew killed by an alien, would scour the ship for Mr. Jones—especially when you consider that she later throws his cage down right in front of the alien when she comes face to face with it.  Personally, it sort of feels like an anti-feminist statement on the part of Scott and O’Bannon: accomplished single, female space officer would rather save cat than exercise common sense.  Thus, such idiocy takes some of the shine off on otherwise tense and gripping story.

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Blade Runner (1982) **

(This article is from guest contributor Sarkoffagus and first appeared at http://classic-film-tv.blogspot.com/.  The rating in the title is my own.)

In 2019, the Off-world colonies are utilizing androids known as replicants as slave labor. When several of the Nexus-6 models escape, four of the replicants are believed to have made it to Earth, where their presence would be a violation of the law. Deckard (Harrison Ford), a former blade runner, part of a unit commissioned to detect and kill replicants (an act which has been termed “retirement”), is enlisted to track down and retire the renegade androids. In the course of his investigation, Deckard learns that replicants, for fear that they might develop emotional responses and make them harder to identify, were given a four-year lifespan. As Deckard draws closer, the apparent leader of the replicants, Batty (Rutger Hauer), seeks a way in which to prolong his existence.

Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (1982) is a sci-fi film with a clear focus on humanity and questioning what makes a being human, a characteristic it shares with its source text, Philip K. Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? A number of movies of the science fiction genre deal with what the genre title suggests: an advancement in technology and an extraordinary future. Scott brings the human element into the film, implying that the world of the future is not a product of technology and is instead defined by the people who reside within it. Blade Runner doesn’t simply show its audience what it hasn’t yet seen; it shows us what hasn’t been seen and what has already been abandoned. The future is not technology at its prime. It’s technology in various stages, some of it fresh and new, and some of it in decay.

The movie opens with a beautiful view of a city, with huge, overpowering buildings and vehicles in flight. Scott then takes the viewers into a dark, ordinary office room, where the only thing apparently unconventional is the Voight-Kampff device, a machine used for detection of replicants. As a man (Brion James) undergoes an assessment, the blade runner administering the test, Holden (Morgan Paull), seems to be indifferent to not only his test subject but the machine itself. Considering that the device is almost hidden in shadow in a room of low lighting (the Voight-Kampff is usually regulated with little light), technology is certainly not highlighted. Most of the futuristic machinery is presented in this manner, exemplified by Deckard yawning during a 10-second elevator ride to the 97th floor of his apartment. The world is populated by people who have become accustomed to all of this. The science is not new to them, almost as if Scott were attempting to drop the “fiction” from science fiction.

In the same vein, the world itself has outlived its vitality. Underneath the buildings and bright lights is the subterranean society, the people of the city hiding from the rain, where the sun rarely shines. But inside those buildings are vast, empty spaces, and those flashing lights are little more than advertisements, typically endorsing the Off-world colonies. There is a scene in the film where a replicant, Pris (Daryl Hannah), asks Sebastian (William Sanderson) about his illness, and then questions if it is the reason he is still on Earth, which he confirms. This more than insinuates that Earth is comparable to the seemingly deserted machines and buildings, that life on the colonies established on other planets is preferable. The film can be regarded as a critique of consumerism, that the idea of substance holds more weight than any actual substance.

Humans attempt to survive in this forlorn, barren world, but who are the humans? More to the point, it seems, what is the definition of humanity? Replicants were designed to be identical to humans, save for emotional response. But the short lifespan safeguard was ineffective, as the escaped replicants truly want one thing: to live. Survival and fear of death are base components of humanity. And while the deadpan Deckard shows little emotion, the replicants, in addition to fear, express anger, apparent confusion, and, it seems, happiness. However, an audience can identify more with Deckard, a world weary man just trying to complete his job. Blade runners have been trained to detect a replicant by lack of empathy, but in the film, the replicants’ emotional resonance is what ultimately reminds viewers what they are: artificial. Batty’s smiles are maniacal, Pris’ trepidation when meeting Sebastian gives the impression of having been learned, and Zhora (Joanna Cassidy) has a perpetual expression of anticipation, as if she were continually seeking the proper way to react.

Many of the actors in the film have an appropriate stoic quality, particularly James, Sean Young, and the outstanding Edward James Olmos as Gaff, who assists Deckard in the investigation. Some of the actors portray characters known to be replicants, but others are not necessarily androids, and it is difficult not to wonder about their humanity or lack thereof. In fact, Scott directly addresses the idea of Deckard himself possibly being a replicant (a concept taken from the novel), in a small but significant sequence that was excised from the original theatrical version. Ford underplays Deckard but to great effect, and having garnered success with the first two Star Wars films (1977 and 1980), as well Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981), he proved that he was a versatile and capable actor.

Sci-fi novelist Dick was supposedly upset with early drafts of the screenplay. However, he was pleased after seeing a rewrite and viewing an advanced cut of Douglas Trumbull’s special effects (David Dryer completed the project as “special effects supervisor”). The author died a few months before the film’s release, and Blade Runner was dedicated to him. The title of the film was taken from Alan E. Nourse’s 1974 novel The Bladerunner, as well as a screen treatment by fellow novelist William S. Burroughs. In Nourse’s book, “bladerunner” refers to someone running medical supplies (e.g., scalpels) on the black market. As the treatment was not chosen for further development, Burroughs adapted it into a novella, Blade Runner (a movie), in 1979. The rights to both titles were purchased for Scott’s film.

It’s interesting to view the technology envisioned in 1982 with technology of today. While some of it seems dated (hefty monitors vs. today’s flat screens, etc.), other aspects are equivalent to modern standards. In one scene, Deckard examines a photograph by enhancing the image to better see the picture. The device that he uses not only employs voice recognition, but Deckard also gets a printout of the enlarged image. Later, Deckard makes a call to Rachael (Young) on a Vid-Phōn, a videophone version of a public phone booth.

The 10th year anniversary of Blade Runner was celebrated with a “Director’s Cut.” The cut that was shown to test audiences in 1982 was screened in 1990 and 1991 and purportedly inspired this version, which reinstated the aforementioned cut sequence, removed Deckard’s voice-over, and changed the studio-altered ending (which opted for a more upbeat conclusion). While the voice-over worked in establishing a film noir tone for Blade Runner, it was intrinsically superfluous and detracted from the solid cinematography and beautiful score, courtesy of Vangelis (who had just won an Academy Award for 1981’s Chariots of Fire). The studio ending likewise was out of place, shifting the overall feel of the movie. While the “Director’s Cut” was completed without Scott’s involvement, the director authorized the “Final Cut,” which was released in 2007.

Blade Runner is a film of humans and non-humans alike examining what it means to be human. The blade runners expose the replicants by revealing an absence of emotion. The motto of the Tyrell Corporation (the corporation responsible for replicants) is “More Human Than Human.” Do the replicants, then, try too hard to be human? With implanted memories and a desire for longer life, the replicants do a fairly good impression of humans. “Quite an experience to live in fear, isn’t it?” Batty asks of Deckard near the film’s end, and perhaps this is the fear of which Batty speaks: that humanity is a learned trait, and that something other than humans is doing a better job of it.

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