Aliens

Ripley returns, only this time there’s a few more parasites, a lot more alien destruction and a little pinch of the unbelievable. Ridley Scott hands the baton over to James Cameron and thankfully, for the sake of the franchise, he doesn’t drop it into that zone called ‘straight to DVD release’. Instead, Cameron reinstates Weaver in her pro-feminist role and she even gets a little female sidekick – Newt. Newt is neither amphibious nor slimy, though she is a little dirty and feral at first. But what can you expect from a kid whose forced to live alone after the horrific death of her parents? Harry Potter lives in a cupboard under the stairs; if you’re an orphan in cinema, this is how you’ll end up. Better start watching the Ray Mears back catalogue now. 

Aliens is set 57 years after the finale of the first film. In this time computers have failed to become touch screen and Sigourney’s choice in underwear hasn’t become any fancier. It’s as if they’re still living in the 80s. Ripley learns that her daughter back on Earth has passed away. Perhaps she should search for Marty Mcfly in the yellow pages – he seems to deal fairly chirpily with the aging of family members. 

And then the inevitable happens. Ripley ends up on a marine mission in search of not one alien, but many. Suddenly the title of this film isn’t so indecipherable. A couple of marines who make the trip, don’t make it past the first action sequence. The aliens pack them up efficiently and store them for later. If the aliens ever get their claws on Tupperware, we’re screwed. Let’s hope a salesman doesn’t meander that way anytime soon. Imagine if they were visited by Jehovah’s Witnesses. Aliens refusing to transfuse their acid blood and eating Christmas trees with their little mouths. 

Once more it falls to Ripley to save the day. There’s no talk of peace negotiations with the enemy, so Ripley arms herself to the teeth and dives back into a swimming pool of alien madness. She hasn’t banked on one thing. The big alien has mastered the art of elevator-control. It sees her enter her lift, it waits casually until she thinks she’s on the brink of escape, then it saunters over to the second lift and enjoys a bit of the mandatory country tunes you find in all elevators. It probably shazamed the track on its Iphone and saved that for later too. They are advanced beings after all and you don’t get much more advanced than app software. 

Aliens is as viciously exciting as its older sister, only multiplied by the number of aliens that get their milky insides dissipated everywhere. The only oversight is the omission of Jones the cat, minus his little skit in the opener. The feline must be cursing his agent for bagging him such peripheral roles. He’d been hailed as the next Arnie. You’d think Cameron would have taken to him. 

IMDb 250 position: 58

Possible Position in my 250: 

34. How can lots of Aliens been worse than one? If there’d been twenty E.Ts, I’d have cried twenty times more

 

Alien

The defining movie of the sci-fi genre, the simple title and similarly simple plot of Alien make it one of the most intelligent pieces of film-making since Hitchcock decided directing might be a path he should pursue. Ridley Scott demonstrates how easy it can be to construct a classic; especially if you have a generous effects budget to hand. So the decisive explosion might look like the beginning credits to a bad techno-talk programme on the BBC, but what do you expect from a film produced at the end of the decade of free love. Watch those incendiary colours whilst high and you’ll discover a message from Scott himself, warning you of the alien lurking below the milky water-line of your bowl of frosted flakes. Coincidentally it seems that future robots will be run by milk, which spews out of them like a dairy fountain.  

Sigourney Weaver plays the heroic female, Ripley. Ripley has more hair than an 80s porno, which stays immaculately positioned throughout her entire spacey charade. Her adversaries: running out of hairspray and also a little alien fella. This tiny chap finds the right combination to open John Hurt’s stomach (1-2-3-propel out of it violently) and disappears off into the under-belly of the ship. Ian Holm describes the creature as ‘the perfect organism’, which probably means we should keep an eye on Kelly Brooks and Lucy Pinder, in case of any inhuman activity. 

The miniature alien doesn’t take his extra-terrestrial time in becoming a colossal alien – a rapid change in size that mirrors Charlie Sheen’s massive change in ego, post-stardom. Both Charlie and the alien possess blood that is inhumanly resistant, and I believe Sheen’s half-coke, half-tiger solution could probably burn through metal too. 

Speaking of tigers, the real star of the flick is a cat called Jones. Jones isn’t phased once by the alien. He keeps calm and carries on. Then Ripley shoves him in a box and his role becomes limited. Perhaps if Ripley hadn’t been so keen to remain the heroin animal-saver, the crisis could have been resolved much quicker, via a face-off between Jones and the beast. He’d have nine attempts at it. 

However the final showdown is planted firmly on the shoulders of Weaver, due to the fact everyone else is a little bit dead. She first begins by exposing as much skin as possible, stripping down to her underwear, because aliens, like a lot of men, have no idea how to deal with a smoking hot babe. The plan fails though when it’s revealed the alien is a seasoned lady-killer (literally) and Ripley opts for a spacesuit instead. This is more practical considering the environment she finds herself in. 

Jaws in space. Alien is supremely successful because of a narrative that never falters in momentum. Unlike Jack and Jill, it makes it up the hill without any flaw, reaches the pale-of-water climax, and then hurtles you back down to a dramatic and satisfying conclusion. And who doesn’t love a bit of Weaver-on-Alien action? No-one, that’s why they brought out a sequel. 

IMDb 250 position: 40

Possible Position in my 250: Jones + semi-naked Weaver + alien = 35