Alien (Ridley Scott, 1979)/Aliens (James Cameron, 1986)

It seems so easy. A director/writer can prevent family melodrama and the formation of the heterosexual couple from derailing a film's excitement and it still becomes such a gargantuan hit that it sparks a successful franchise. But no, Jurassic Park and The Day After Tomorrow and War of the Worlds and San Andreas and Army of the Dead, etc. have to gunk up the goods with stifling ideology. Alien sticks to the facts which are harrowing enough; no time to discuss romance and heal parent/child divides when a slime monster is popping out of someone's stomach. Most of the deaths are hokey but some terrifying moments remain, e.g., Veronica Cartwright's reaction to the stomach popping or the alien lying down in the escape pod, a reminder that monsters are at their most disturbing when we can observe what they do when they're alone. Overall, it's a refreshingly single-minded ride.

I hear that a backstory about Ripley's daughter was excised from Aliens. Smart move! The film is right at the edge of being too long in its theatrical cut. And Ripley's affection for Newt is perfectly graspable without any further psychologizing. Cameron builds tension in the first half with little action and then pummels us for the remainder, a masterclass in structuring a narrative to intensify an audience's reaction. I'm itchy about the gynephobic view of motherhood in the form of gooey alien birth which deflates the virtuous form exercised by Ripley. But here too, a rigid single-mindedness washes over every event. Neither film a masterpiece, they're both nevertheless the class of the Hollywood genre film.

Alien: A-minus

Aliens: A-minus