“In space, no one can hear you scream.”
As marketing goes, this one’s right up there with the promise that you’ll believe a man can fly.
And on the surface, that slogan really does capture both the science fiction and the horror of Alien. And maybe that’s enough. Maybe that’s that perfect organism, lean and mean, an apex predator of our hearts and minds.
But when I think about the Alien franchise, it’s impossible for me to divorce the films and comic books from the conversations I’ve had about the films and comic books.
And there have been many. As a squarely situated “Gen Xer,” the Alien franchise has probably spawned nearly as many conversations as Star Wars.
OK, so. Horror. Sci-Fi. Fine. But why? Why is this franchise so compelling? Why so many discussions?
I think the leanness I mentioned has something to do with it. There’s no exposition in Alien that spans generations and galaxies as it unveils all mysteries. It’s a simple framework: These are blue-collar workers doing their job. Until that job is interrupted by a beacon, altered by a corporation, and enforced by artificial intelligence.
The first film doesn’t need to elaborate beyond that. Because we all understand that notion of trying to live our lives, get our jobs done, and keep a roof over our heads – all the while machinations play out far outside of our control.
And then James Cameron comes in and uses that same skeletal framework but injects soldiers into the mix. And then David Fincher brings us to a prison. And so on.
Each of these films, whether you think they’re well-crafted or not, brings to life a different social element. Hot take: When people bemoan the idea that the Alien franchise has lost its way, I think, broadly speaking, what we’re really saying is that whatever the current iteration is, it’s the humanity – not the alien stuff – that we’re not resonating with. I think we can take a lot of twists and tweaks to the xenomorph mythology if the viewer is locked into the relatable banality of mankind.
And that’s where the conversation comes back into play. I’ve been on a handful of the Fanbase Press podcasts (Editor’s Note: The Fanbase Weekly, Fanbase Press’ flagship podcast, is available here on the Fanbase Press website and on Apple Podcasts.) to discuss various Alien-related movies and comic books. I’ve gone into a few of them with the relish of Chris Farley’s old SNL movie interviewer sketches (“That was awesome!).”
But that’s not always the case.
Alien 3, in particular, is an odd one for me, as I’ve watched it many times, discussed it many times, and every time I discuss it, my perception of it changes. On my first view, in the theater, I thought it was interesting but with some dodgy CG. Later, I thought it was a mumblecore slog. And more recently, I’ve flipped around on it again, and it’s come much closer to fitting – appropriately – into my #3 spot.
It’s not just the films, by the way. I didn’t really read the Alien comics in the ’80s-’90s. But after being invited to a couple of podcasts, I have really come to cherish my “initiation” into the comics via a first read and the subsequent podcast discussion. And I think it all comes back to that simple social framework. The comics, like Alien: The Music of the Spears, uses the framework set up by the first couple of movies, and then adds music composers and corporate ninjas. And it mostly works because the basic tenets of Aliens aren’t simply “In space, no one can hear you scream.” It’s a bit more that “No one can hear you scream about the inequities of late-stage capitalism.”
All of that may begin in the films and comics, but it’s the discussion with friends that really lets me stew over it all… the bad, the good, the “almost there.”
This franchise means a whole hell of a lot to me, and that’s not just because I like the xenomorph. It’s because I can see multiple facets of reality reflected back at me in that beetle-black armor. And it’s because I can talk about those facets with the contributors at Fanbase Press, and with all of you.
