FEATURE: A Second Look - Alien 3

Just why would anyone want to set a release date before having a script, or even a firm concept, is beyond human comprehension. And yet it seems many properties in Hollywood are being developed this way. However, such practices applied to a hot studio property make one wonder whether those people know anything about this process at all. In any case, that’s how Alien 3 came to be. After numerous rewrites, different directors taking over, this film ended up in the hands of inexperienced young David Fincher. No time to ponder, no script to work with. What can possibly go wrong here?

The 1992 cinema audiences were treated to a messy Frankenstein's monster of a film. The narrative is choppy and fragmented. Many characters are not properly introduced, others disappear without a warning. The tone is inconsistent, pacing uneven, production values compromised. The optical effects developed for this project didn’t age well at all – feel rushed and badly integrated with live action footage. This list of sins is long.

Even if we ignore this film’s shortcomings on the technical level, it is still easy to understand why so many people dislike it. There is no baroque stylishness of Ridley Scott’s Alien to be enjoyed, nor does this story excite and exhilarate as much as Aliens. After two grand entries, the filmmakers served something more muted and almost contemplative. The monster itself doesn’t really appear a lot – cuts are quick, a lot of close-ups. On top of that, three beloved characters get killed off right at the start. Which, of course, completely undid the hopeful climax of James Cameron’s chapter.

Fincher, whether by improvisations or design, creates a strange and uneasy mood, oppressive and nihilistic. In that sense, Alien 3 anticipates his later works such as Seven and Fight Club. The bleak autopsy scene is a perfect summation of this theme – the sweet innocent child is now a paper white corpse being dissected and examined. Things get bleak and all of that is additionally enhanced by stark, unglamorous and cold photography of Alex Thomson. Again, quite a shock to a regular cinemagoer.

Whatever issues one might have with Alien 3, one thing is certain: Sigourney Weaver’s performance improved considerably since the previous two films. In Ridley Scott’s original, she was merely a technician and her acting was mostly functional. Ellen was a vulnerable element and one of Nostromo crew’s weakest personalities. That in itself made her a perfect proxy for the audience. James Cameron gave her a little more to do; there are human traits to be explored and Ripley’s relationship with both Newt and Hicks served that purpose well. And that’s how we got to the third chapter. This time, the actress gets to explore much deeper. Her character is no rookie anymore. After so much suffering and losing everyone she cared about, there is an element of resignation to her actions and her heroism is muted and quiet. There’s no more fear left, not for herself anyway. It’s astonishing that throughout this series, Weaver got to explore different aspects of the same person and her story lends itself quite naturally to those three acts as different as they may be from each other.

What’s additionally interesting about Ripley is that this time her sexuality gets touched up upon. True, there was a subtle hint of romance between her and Hicks in Aliens, even if only in a very basic and platonic way. Seeing Ellen undressing in the very climax of Ridley Scott’s entry felt completely asexual as well. Perhaps refreshingly so, in a way. What makes it strange, however, is that H.R. Giger’s designs were extremely sensual and that discord between the two was intriguing. Then we got to (then) final chapter of this story, in which she, quite randomly, offers sex to Charles Dance’s Clemens. It’s a really awkward moment, originating perhaps from constant script rewrites. One might draw a conclusion, the character at this point needs to feel something human and direct. For someone who spent of their lives running, having simple needs like this might make sense. Even if narratively those elements feel rather jarring.

The prison colony population of Fiorina 'Fury' 161 has its obvious roots in Vincent Ward’s unmade version. That film would have been even more bizarre than anything other filmmakers even attempted in this series. The somewhat believable setting of both Alien and Aliens would be replaced by Bosch-like wooden planet populated by technology-free monastic society. That script played on the more hallucinatory and symbolic meaning, rather than a literal one. Some of those elements still remain in the finished film – especially the quasi-Chirstian religious themes. The xenomorph is often referred to as a dragon, which very much suits those medieval sensibilities. On top of that, a theme of penance runs through Alien 3 as a major thread. It’s interesting that Ripley also seems to have a need to atone for something, perhaps her unusually extended life feels like a curse in the light of not being able to keep her loved ones alive as well. Her ultimate demise seems like a relief from the horrors and the only logical solution (which, of course, got subsequently ruined by Alien: Resurrection).

What makes all of those themes even more poignant is the masterful score from Elliot Goldenthal. The music combines numerous contemporary Corigliano-like compositional techniques with subtle electronic textures and, yet again, Catholic Mass elements – the Latin “Lamb of God” metaphor serves an important purpose throughout the score. The results fit requirements of horror genre but also elevate it to more haunting and operatic proportions. There’s something beautiful about all this sonic brutality that this composer conjured for Fincher’s film. What is interesting, he might be the only person involved in making this project that remembers it fondly.

One cannot talk about Alien 3 and not mention multiple versions available. The situation of this film is quite unique. Apart from the theatrical cut, an extended so-called “Assembly Cut” was created eleven years after initial release. It’s not simply an expansion but a drastically different presentation, containing alternate scenes not appearing in official release. While neither of them really makes a very good film, they nevertheless offer a fascinating glimpse into filmmaking process and how changes are being applied in editing and reshoots. Definitely worth investigating.

Ultimately, Alien 3 is a strange beast, stuck between two worlds - good and bad films. It’s powerful emotional resonance and boldness are undeniable, as is an excellent performance from Sigourney Weaver. However, shortcomings are multiple and cannot be ignored either. David Fincher just released his tenth feature – Gone Girl (reviewed here). Whatever he might think of his very first project, let his subsequent output serve as proof that good things in it were not just happy accidents – there’s a real talent there. In the end, we’ve all seen worse films worthy of disowning. This one is a respectable attempt all around in comparison.

- Karol

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FILM REVIEW: Gone Girl

Based on the hugely successful Gillian Flynn novel of the same name, director David Fincher’s adaptation of Gone Girl was without doubt one of the most hotly anticipated film releases of the year. The advertising and PR campaign has been colossal, and there are already loud (very loud) whisperings of Best Picture nominations.

As one of the biggest Flynn fans going, as well as someone prone to negatively judge adaptations of books with the all the conviction of somebody watching their local Waterstones be burned down to make way for a Vue, I was more than a little concerned that the film would fall neatly into the trap of not living up to its own hype.

In an attempt to summarise the plot without giving away too many spoilers, the story focuses on Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) a teacher and ex-journalist who, on the day of his fifth wedding anniversary, discovers that his wife, Amy, (Rosamund Pike) is missing. He returns home from the bar he runs with his sister Margo (Carrie Coon) to find a crime scene in his living room. It looks like a break-in, although the police, when he eventually gets around to calling them, don’t seem so sure.

As his reaction to his wife’s disappearance grows increasingly out of synch and bizarre, and with him seeming to have little to no clue about her life when he’s out of the house, the finger of suspicion of both the police, represented by a truly excellent Kim Dickens as the wonderful Detective Rhonda, as well as the media begins to point to him. 

Is he just a mam struggling to come to terms with his missing soul-mate, or is something more sinister at play here? Throughout, we gain insight into their, perhaps not quite as idyllic as it seemed, marriage via extracts from the diary of the missing Amy. Largely taken directly from the book, these give us a window into the darker side of Nick Dunne, but can we trust this either?

There are plenty of complex ideas to deliver here, with crime, the recession and marriage all coming under the spotlight, but Fincher ticks every box with immense style. The cinematography is a dream, perfectly capturing the slightly patched-together nature of mid-west, small-town Americana that is Flynn’s calling card, and using colour beautifully to suggest the different perspectives and time periods as we move between the present day of Amy’s disappearance, the diary pieces and the early days their relationship.

This is complemented by a slick, darkly comic script, adapted by Flynn herself, as well as some truly brilliant performances from the key cast. Rosamund Pike presents an arrogant absent-ness to the character of Amy, a character who has all her life been fictionalised by her doting parents in their ‘Amazing Amy’ series, a character who knows other way but to play pretend her own life.  Both Fincher’s subtly brilliant direction and Pikes performance expertly realise the creepily unusual, the almost Carter-esque fairytale anti-heroines that are Flynn’s speciality. There is a certain head movement from her, in a certain scene (I’ll give you a clue, the scene is the reason the film is rated 18), which I really think is the most effective moment in the entire film. 

Neil Patrick Harris shines as Amy’s creepy, unavoidably camp ex-boyfriend, and Ben Affleck is perfectly cast everyman Nick, caught up in events he doesn’t quite understand, although with sinister undertones. I do think, though, that his character could have been pushed further. He could perhaps have benefited from more anger, the stress and dislike of those around him, particularly women, running closer to the surface than it is here. In the book, Nick is really our central perspective, but here he is outshone, appropriately enough, by his dazzling wife. 

Haunting, and unsatisfying in all the right places, Gone Girl gets its tone exactly right.

Certain elements could have been taken further, in order for it to make more of a statement about its key ideas. Character rather than theme seems to be the key focus here, but it would have been good to see slightly more of a mix.

All in all, though, this isn’t one put on your 'wait for Netflix' list. It looks gorgeous on the big screen, and hearing the discussions of your fellow cinema-goers on your way out will be a highlight in itself. 

It’s so, so much more than the crime thriller it’s been marketed as.

But then, so was the book.

★★★★

Jen@jenniferklarge

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TV (SORT-OF) REVIEW: House of Cards

The American version of seminal British drama House of Cards hit the website Netflix this week, marking a landmark development in broadcasting, premiering a television series without it actually being on any television channels (hence the 'Sort-Of'). The first episode was available on Thursday night, and is still available to view for free, with the rest of the series following on Friday for subscribers. Needless to say, I've now watched all but two (hey, Saturday's a day off, I've had time) and the series, whilst very different from its well-spoken, Ian Richardson-starring counterpart, is nearly just as good.

With backing from some of Hollywood's major players like executive producer and director, David Fincher and other notables like Joel Schumacher, the pedigree behind House of Cards is formidable. It has been adapted from the novels by Michael Dobbs and based on Andrew Davies' series by Beau Willimon, (The Ides of March - a much underrated film, give it a look if you can). It's all very slick, without feeling over-produced but anyone looking for West Wing style idealism might be disappointed as it's a bit like someone took Aaron Sorkin and slowly punctured all his dreams until he became a hollow, bitter and twisted version of himself and then punched him in the face for good measure. This isn't the nice, do-gooding potential world of politics, but the nastiest kind that many conspiracy theorists suspect actually exists, where back-stabbings and betrayals are merely routine. 

Starring Kevin Spacey as the Machiavellian Francis J. Underwood, House of Cards follows our anti-hero through the corridors of power as he conspires to take the new President of the United States. Pre-election, Underwood was supposed to take the Secretary of State role, but instead he is told that he must remain as the Majority Whip, a 'glorified plumber' as Underwood puts it. Along with his wife Claire, played with Lady Macbeth-like cool by Robin Wright, and ambitious journalist Zoe Barnes (Kate Mara), Underwood steadily manipulates everyone around him to manoeuvre himself into the position he wants. 


House of Cards opens with a scene that perfectly encapsulates both the rest of the series and Underwood's character; a dog has been run over and while giving a speech directly to the audience about the two kinds of pain, Underwood puts it out of its misery. It's a shocking opener and one that you don't entirely expect, even if you are familiar with Spacey's predecessor, Francis Urquhart, from the original series. It firmly establishes the tone; this is a ruthless political world in which the weak will be put down, most probably by Underwood. It foreshadows a key plot development too much later in the series, one that is even more jawdropping.

Spacey's portrayal of Underwood is key for the entire series as it is the kind of story that lives or dies with its central character. He had big boots to fill, following Richardson in what is widely regarded to have been his best role, but Spacey does the right thing; he doesn't seek to emulate or mimic Richardson. Instead, there are a couple of subtle nods but Spacey very much goes his own way with Underwood, here transformed into a Southern gentleman rather than the Tory patrician. He's charismatic, charming, slimy and repugnant, yet you can't help go along with him. Part of this lies in the decision to keep Underwood breaking the fourth wall; the audience is complicit in every single one of his schemes or thoughts. If there's a moment in which he has to shift gear or go into the offensive, we get a quick look to the side, a momentary glance that conveys enough subtext to fuel a Harold Pinter play.

The rest of the cast are equally good, particularly Robin Wright as Claire Underwood. The marriage between the pair doesn't seem to be one of romantic love, but of mutual appreciation. Each will resort to anything to achieve their goals, including using each other to get what they want. There are little scenes between the pair, often with the two of them smoking at the window, in which the noise of politicians or lobbyists dies down and we simply get to see the two of them plan their next move. It's like watching an extremely elaborate chess game (which Underwood specialises in naturally) play out as they move pieces, knock others off and bring others back in to play. The Underwoods aren't necessarily the nicest couple, but they're certainly inherently watchable.

Like its characters, House of Cards is relentless from start to finish, building plot after plot and wrapping you up in all of Underwood's intricate scheming. Having all of the episodes available on Netflix, one after the other, also means that you can follow what is, at times, the kind of twisty-turny (technical term) narrative that needs to be seen all at once. Whether or not you choose to view it in this way is entirely up to you, but it's a very convenient way of viewing this captivating series. Just make sure you have enough time to sit down and watch all thirteen episodes at once.

- Becky

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