Singular or Plural?

What’s better – one or more than one? This question is one of the best overlooked debates in human history, and is diligently fought on a daily basis. The argument is battled in almost every walk of life. In sports, we’re often reminded how effective and devastating a single great player can be, yet it is commonly accepted that the “team” mentality is more desirable. Throughout history governments have been ruled by kings (monarchy) and ruled by the people (republic). Despite what the current standards and norms are, there is really little evidence to suggest that one is more effective than the other in the long-term. In the business world, what’s more prudent - a corporation or an entrepreneur? In simpler terms, would you rather have a threesome or just one partner? There are pros and cons in each example that could point you in either direction. So, which is better – us or I? We or me? In an attempt to solve this eons-old debate, and with tongue firmly planted in cheek, I turn to two movies – Ridley Scott’s Alien and James Cameron’s Aliens. Because what’s better than two almost 30 year old science fiction films to use as fodder to chew on? Such a hefty dispute deserves only the finest.

Alien and Aliens serve as the first two installments of the four-movie Alien series (not counting the Alien vs. Predator spinoffs). They are widely considered the best of the series, and also two of the defining films of their variety. Both belong to the sci-fi genre, however, Alien is considered sci-fi/horror, while Aliens inhabits the sci-fi/action sub-genre. By breaking these two movies down, the answer to our initial question will become quite clear.

Each film was used as a springboard to success for its respective director. Both men would go on to become Hollywood titans. Alien was Scott’s second feature film, and its box office success invigorated his career. He would go on to direct such highly acclaimed films as Blade Runner, Thelma & Louise, Gladiator, and Black Hawk Down. Aliens, coincidentally, was also Cameron’s second feature film. However his first film, The Terminator, had been much more financially successful than Scott’s (The Duellists). Following Aliens, Cameron would direct some of the most well-known blockbusters of not only the 1990s, but of all-time. His credits include, The Abyss, Terminator 2: Judgment Day, True Lies, and the 2 highest grossing movies ever made, Titanic and Avatar. While each man owes a great deal of their success to the Alien franchise, their contrasting, yet distinct, styles (both within the Alien films, and throughout their careers) lead us towards the answer to this debate.

James Cameron’s filmmaking style is one of heavy reliance on special effects to dramatize human events on a grand scale. He makes modern epics. T2, Titanic, and Avatar are all prime examples of his style. In all 3 films the action sequences are exquisitely constructed, using the best possible special effects available at the time. (I could go into uber-dork mode drone on about all the technical advances Cameron is responsible for in the field of special effects. Just know that the man is a legend because of it.) All 3 films also use a plot that is centered around individuals in dire, life-altering circumstances. The key to each film is Cameron’s ability (or lack thereof) to touch the human nerve and make the audience care what happens to these individuals. The films are filled with romanticized human emotion, and they are the most important reason for the films’, and his, wild popularity. Cameron plays up the emotion, sometimes excessively, in order for his audiences to connect and care about his characters. He wants an audience to really feel. Simply put, James Cameron is a humanist. This humanistic style is employed in Aliens, albeit with a slight twist.

Ridley Scott uses a much more low-key, detail-oriented approach when it comes to his films. He too is known to dabble in the occasional epic, although they are historical (and have an almost painful attention to detail and accuracy) and certainly not the only kind of movie he can make. Scott is a much more diverse filmmaker than Cameron, as his filmography shows. While he can direct an effective blockbuster, he doesn’t make strictly huge budget films. Scott’s modus operandi seems to be to make an effective film from whatever sort of script he has. He’s made epic (Gladiator, Kingdom of Heaven), science fiction (Blade Runner), gangster (American Gangster), and war (Black Hawk Down) films all the while interspersing them with smaller, lower-key pictures about real(ish) people (Matchstick Men, G.I. Jane, and Thelma & Louise). Scott’s attention to detail, which ultimately gives even his most outlandish films a semblance of realism, is his greatest strength, allowing him to effectively make any kind of movie he wishes. The results and benefits of this method are no more evident than they are in Alien.

The contrasting styles of each filmmaker makes for an easy, but informative, comparison of their Alien movies. Scott’s work on Alien makes use of a singular, one-on-one conflict (Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) vs. The Alien) to not only forward the plot, but to explore themes of isolation and loneliness. What better genre to explore such deeply intimate fears? The initial 20-30 minutes of the movie is often criticized for being dull or slowly paced. This incorrect assumption of bad filmmaking couldn’t be further from the truth. The introduction of the characters is, for one, absolutely necessary. The film also uses this time to paint the picture of a normal “day in the life” of the crew. This is a standard horror movie device, and adds a sense of realism to the proceedings. It works especially well in Alien because what ultimately takes place is so far removed from reality that it is essential to convey the greatest sense of realism possible. The greater the sense of realism, the more willing an audience will be to accept the preposterousness of what is to come. This initial section of the film allows the upcoming horror to work as effectively as it does. Without it, and by jumping right into the conflict with the alien, the movie would be left with a hollow tone. An audience that doesn’t invest itself in the characters of a horror movie cannot possibly be truly scared. The beginning of Alien causes audiences to relate, invest – whatever term you want to use – perfectly because of the careful, thought-out, detailed approach Ridley Scott uses to create realism within an unimaginable environment.

The rest of the film is spent creating and releasing tension, with the alien killing everyone on board except Ripley. Scott does his best to show us only portions of the alien, which only adds to our fear. Not only is the majority of the movie spectacularly engrossing, but it’s downright terrifying. Once the body count rises and Ripley is left to fend for herself, the film’s themes become more clear. Throughout the film Ripley has been coldly logical, willing to sacrifice human life in order to give herself, and the rest of the crew, the best chance for survival. She’s weary of others and untrusting. By all accounts she leads a rather grim, unemotional life. However, when left alone against the Alien, her desire for interaction is evident through her relationship with the cat, Jones. Towards the end of the film she makes a point of rescuing Jones, confirming her desire for interaction and condemning her previous lifestyle. Prior to her encounter with the alien Ripley has led an isolated, lonely life, which left her yearning for more. At the film’s end, Ripley and Jones enter hypersleep together symbolically suggesting the change that has been made within Ripley.

Ripley’s change is further explored in James Cameron’s Aliens. Cameron’s message is similar to Scott’s, but, in typical Cameron fashion, is told on a much larger, grandiose scale. Cameron elects to pick up where Alien left off and continues the progression of Ripley. In the sequel, Ripley and her new crew battle an abundance of the creatures, none as individually menacing (with the Queen as a possible exception) as the singular beast from Alien. This plot and stylistic difference allows the film to be much more action oriented as opposed to a straight horror film. There are certainly some tense, scary moments by design, but nothing that is supposed to be as genuinely frightening as Scott’s movie. The choice to forgo horror for action allows the film to operate on the aforementioned larger scale. The creepy, atmospheric tone of Scott’s film is no longer present, so there is no need to confine the film to the happenings of one ship. This larger-than-life feel is consistent with Cameron’s overall style, and, as previously indicated, is an area he in comfortable working within.

Aliens begins with Ripley being rescued and awoken from 57 years in hypersleep. The beginning sequences are used to further develop Ripley. Her motivations for her actions later in the film all stem from the opening scenes. The familial theme that runs throughout the film is set up at this point. Ripley’s once young daughter grew up and died of old age during her time in hypersleep. Much of the film’s subtext deals with Ripley’s desire to return to the normal family dynamic. Once the film really gets going, Cameron’s ability as a showman begins to take over. From the point where the new crew lands on LV-426 the movie evolves into one expertly staged action sequence after another. In between, ample time for character development is allowed. It is in these scenes where the film’s themes shine though. The chemistry between Ripley and Hicks (Michael Biehn), Ripley’s mother-daughter relationship with Newt (Carrie Henn), and Ripley’s final confrontation with the Alien Queen (both protecting their “young”) all suggest a craving for the traditional family of mother, father, and child.

Another interesting comparison can be made between the way Ripley treats the androids in each film to further illustrate the change in her character and to highlight the films’ themes. In Alien, Ripley is skeptical of Ash (Ian Holm) before it is revealed that he is an android. She treats him poorly because he shows borderline incompetence in his duties as the ship’s Science Officer. When Ripley figures out the conspiracy behind the alien on board the ship, Ash attacks her, which ends up revealing his true nature (and turns him into a dairy farmer’s dream). This confirms her initial skepticism, causes her to have a prejudice against androids in general, and serves as a reminder of her isolated mindset. In Aliens, the character of Bishop (Lance Henriksen) is used to erase Ripley’s prejudice towards androids. His character arc is similar to Ash’s, except that he gains acceptance from Ripley at the end of the film by rescuing her and temporarily saving her from the Queen. Shunning Ash because he is poor at his job and accepting Bishop because he is effective at his serves as an overarching metaphor for Ripley’s change in her overall mindset. While the androids aren’t people, Ripley’s change in mindset still applies. She learns to be more trustworthy which ultimately leads to a life with less loneliness and isolation. Oddly, by trusting the androids, she becomes more human.

Through the character of Ellen Ripley, Ridley Scott and James Cameron both explore themes that ultimately confirm humanity. Scott chooses to tell a horror story condemning lives led in isolation, which eventually lead to an undesirable, miserable state of loneliness. Cameron prefers to use an action movie to exemplify the natural human need for a strong family bond. The reason these films work perfectly together, even though they have directors with conflicting styles and exist as drastically differing kinds of films, is the common link of Ellen Ripley. Both filmmakers, and Sigourney Weaver, are able to make the audience care about Ripley as both a person and movie character. Her overall character arc in the two movies is one of drastic change, but also feels natural.

To answer the initial question asked in this essay, I point you to the difference in the titles of each film. At their core, both films are choosing the plural over the singular. It is undeniable that life is much better in the company of others, and this notion is something both James Cameron and Ridley Scott seem to support.

Blog Manifesto

Wikipedia (because I'm lazy and don't want to actually look it up from a credible source) defines manifesto as a public declaration of principles and intentions. Why do I feel the need to create a manifesto for my initial blog entry that will be read by handfuls upon handfuls of people? Well, the term manifesto makes me, and consequently this blog, sound official. The Declaration of Independence is considered a manifesto. Karl Marx published The Communist Manifesto and Adolph Hitler's Mein Kampf is considered the Nazi Bible. What? You mean I shouldn't aspire to be like Marx or Hitler? You're, of course, correct, but the point is this - the word manifesto grabs people's attention. For some reason we're (at least I obviously am) attracted to things like the word manifesto. It just looks cool.

When setting up this very blog I came to a section where I was forced to choose a template for how my blog should look. Should I go with plain white? Black? Polka dots? Who cares? It's what I write that's important, right? Well, yes and no. Who wants to read a post in plain white that looks like something an English professor penned? Can't you just visualize an anal, uninteresting, pseudo-intellectual douchebag choosing plain white? I can. Fuck plain white. What about black? That seems a bit too emo for my taste. I don't want to come across as a guy who may Kurt Cobain himself at any moment. Polka dots? Seems like the standard choice for 13 year old Twilight fans. Surprisingly, that isn't me. Sure, I'm dealing in stereotypes and generalizations, but that's kind of the point. With something as impersonal as a blog, a reader who has no clue who you are and only knows you from reading what you write is inevitably going to fall back on things such as stereotypes. It's perfectly natural. I want to try to avoid that with this here bloggy.

While style can be expressed in almost every way imaginable, stressing it's importance over the nuts-and-bolts, inner workings of anything dilutes whatever you happen to be dealing with. Style isn't irrelevant - it's purpose is to attract. Once you get past that initial attraction, however, a lack of substance leaves a hollow, shallow feel. Hopefully, this blog is able to walk the fine line between the two.

In other words - READ MY BLOG!