Repetitive
themes bolstered by plot pace (4/5)
The Alien
trilogy—by the end of 1993—ends with the appropriate but rather generically
titled Alien 3. Though now technically a quadrilogy with Alien: Resurrection, I've always viewed the fourth installment as an afterthought,
sort of a cheap addition to otherwise semi-tidy trilogy. (Side note: the
novelization of Alien: Resurrection was written by a different writer—the
late A.C. Crispin.) It was also subject to much interference even after the
final shot was taken. Foster himself wouldn’t even touch the novelization
because of the amount of flak he caught from trying to pen the proper version
of Alien 3.
So, casting
off Alien: Resurrection and returning to the main trilogy, I have the
same one-of-these-is-not-like-the-others feeling: Alien 3 feels forced,
like the screenwriters had an idea off the shelf and they had to sledgehammer
the duology into fitting the mold of their idea. What could be such a fantastic
idea: aliens run amok in an abandoned refinery where prisoners reside (yea,
yea, Ripley will fit in there somehow). Now, while the idea is half-assed and
the movie is a half-hearted attempt, the actual production of the novel came
off alright... just alright. Foster has said that his hand was forced in its
production so that it comes out just as the movie did, without any dramatic
changes (not
exactly true).
I read the
Omnibus edition (Warner, 1993), so the page numbers may differ from the cover
featured (Titan Books, 2014).
Movie
tagline:
“This time
it's hiding in the most terrifying place of all.”
------------
Hicks, Ripley
and Newt, secure in their sleep pods, fling through space after meeting untold
horrors on Achernon; Bishop sits idle, deactivated, having been torn to pieces
by the alien queen who stowed away to reach the Sulaco. But not all is
silent aboard the Sulaco: At least two facehuggers creep in its systems,
one a curious predator intent on attacking Newt in her sleep pod. With its
immense strength, it tries to pry open the glass-topped pod, only to shatter
its rim and impale itself, thus causing it to spray acid blood. The acid
immediately eats through the room’s floor while building up a lethal amounts of
explosive gas and electrical fires. The Sulaco realizes the emergency
and evacuates the four sleep pods from the ship, which explodes soon after the
four pods are well away.
On the harsh
but survivable surface of the planet Fury 361 (or Fury 161 in the film and in
the novelization’s dialogue), a once functional refinery cum prison is home to
“two jailers, twenty-five prisoners” (484). The company has sent the worst of
the worst of their prisoners to this backwater planet so that they can maintain
the refinery equipment. For their simple work, the Company sends them token
supply runs for want of one day opening the refinery for full production in
case the planets metals can once again be exploited. Meanwhile, one of the
prisoners—Clemens—, yet also its head medic (once being a doctor but his crimes
had had him demoted), is out on a coastal stroll when a meteoric event catches
his attention. The descending trail of fire plunges into the sea near him,
where he sees the ejected sleep pods of four individuals; alone on the beach,
he saves Ripley first.
The
twenty-five prisoners are all “double Y chromos—former career criminals,
thieves, rapists, murders, arsonists … scum” (503). The all-male population of
the prison is intrinsically controlled by their self-formed religion, “some sort
of millenarian apocalyptic Christian fundamentalist brew” (521) which helps
them maintain discipline amid their isolation. Dillon is the authority figure
among the prisoners and also acts as the chaplain of their religion, in which
he leads prayer that relates to the coming of times and the escape from worldly
drudgery. Though they are complacent and conforming to their humble,
planet-bound existence at the refinery, theirs is a fragile environment in
which even a single female presence can shake their faith, upsetting the
equilibrium of placidness and angst. Welcome to Hell, Ripley.
Expectedly,
her presence is unwelcome. She bonds with the medic named Clemens who urges her
to remain in the infirmary, away from the prison population. Andrews, the
jailer supervisor, is adamant about the separation of sex, but Ripley’s
stubbornness proves inimical to his direction as she mingles with the edgy
prisoners. Her title of lieutenant instills the men with a smidgen of respect
and fear, but soon their hormones gain the upper hand when they try to take
advantage of her solitary visit to the refinery’s dump in order to retrieve the
discombobulated remains of Bishop. Dillon, the authoritative yet straight-laced
leader of the prisoners, saves her from a more disrespectable fate among the
attempted rapists.
Ripley’s trip
to the trash heap was impelled by Clemens’ description of her arrival and the
deaths of both Hicks and Newt. Her curiosity is piqued by two threads of her
situation: (1) First, as Ripley connects Bishop to the escape pods flight
recorder, she learns of the fate of the Sulaco and the Company’s
constant awareness of all events which took place on the ship; (2) Lastly, the
Company’s non-committal behavior toward the prison’s communication with them—“message received” (479 and 605)—and
their oddly dissociative message “PERMISSION DENIED TO TERMINATE XENOMORPH.
AVOID CONTACT UNTIL RESCUE TEAM ARRIVES” (606).
The presence
of the xenomorph at the prison/refinery comes as little surprise to Ripley. A
series of unfortunate deaths in the prison/refinery led up to her surmising
that an alien is alive in the vents, that its stalking them, that it wants only
two things: their deaths and its survival; after all, “that’s what it’s
designed to do: kill and multiply” (620). Having experienced the horror of
battling the aliens twice before, Ripley has almost become immune to fright;
rather, she is tormented by “her inability to forget” (568).
With the
assistance of the prisoners, Ripley is able to plan a chase and bait scenario
where they capture and isolate the alien. While it may safely remain behind
nearly impenetrable doors, the mind of man is an untethered ball of whim,
especially for those with minds struck with horror, such as Golic, who becomes
obsessed with the vision of the Beast and seeks spiritual communication with
its apocalyptic aura. Though he had always been considered the most peculiar
among the atypical prisons, his presence had always been tolerated at best;
now, with delusion visions of the apocalypse, his innocent whims of spirit
endanger everyone. He sees himself as immune to the Beast’s rage, much like
Ripley soon sees herself as privileged in commune with the alien, but for a
very different reason; she scans herself in the autodoc and discovers a long-term
affliction which has only began to display its twin symptoms of internal pain
and external invulnerability.
As they fight
the alien and flee from its stealth attacks, the prisoners’ hope rests on the
arrival of the Company, only hours away.
------------
There are
four common threads which tie the trilogy together, three threads of which are forgone
expectations: (1) Ripley, (2) the xenomorphs, (3) terror, and (4) grungy
locations. I understand that isolated and grubby locations heighten the sense
of unease, but it does become a tad repetitive: dingy space tug from Alien
and an unkempt space colony from Aliens. The third part of the trilogy
offers a twofer: neglected prison/refinery. At this point in the Alien series,
one begins to wonder if the screenwriters have any imagination left, if anyone
cares to break the mold, if anyone has any vision for the series. The movie Alien
3 earns a paltry 3/5 in my book for this lack of imagination and drudgery.
While the
plot of this sequel, and its accompanying novelization, feel forced in contrast
to Alien and Aliens, Foster overcomes this slipshod story with gusto
for plot pacing. The atmosphere is always tense, be it when a prisoner is
decapitated or when Ripley queries Clemens about her arrival. There’s an
electric sense of foreboding, an eerie static which permeates the novelization—something
more than the movie did. Foster has some obvious skill in this regard, to
somehow make a novelization more tense than the movie. This, in turn, results in
a more impressive 4/5.
One tactic
Foster utilizes is the use of investigation by the characters; they know
something isn’t right in their banal prison/refinery, but after Ripley shows
up, things become a bit peculiar: a large insectoid is discovered (an unusually
large facehugger), a slimy cowl is discarded in an air duct (from the queen’s
molting?), and a hollow, oblong black skull is found (again, from molting?).
Much like in Aliens, the plot takes the reader through the species
building of the xenomorphs—quite similar to character building.
------------
Thankfully,
this is a trilogy. At this point, the rehash of Ripley, xenomorphs, terror and
grimy locations has reached the end of its steam. Alien: Resurrection is
a movie time has forgotten (except for that exceptionally creepy alien/human
hybrid). There have been many other novels published in the same Alien
Universe, most recently is the Out of the Shadows series by Tim Lebbon,
which somehow—in a curious why-was-this-needed way—fills a gap between Alien
and Aliens. If Alien 3 is considered cursory to the series, Out
of the Shadows (2014) can be considered extraneous, superfluous, unwanted
and unneeded.
My thoughts
on Prometheus (2012)? S-w-e-e-t.
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