They’re coming out of the goddamn walls
From here the team begins to understand the fate of the missing colonists – the discovery of face huggers in vats show us that this place is doomed. What makes the movie interesting here, is that we find out all of our information alongside the team. We are not privy to anything that the team outside of their knowledge, save for Ripley’s earlier experience in the original movie. It is during the face hugger scene that what effect this experience has had on Ripley. She is a nervous, paranoid wreck. The polar opposite of the marines, who have faith in their firepower. Even company man Burke, who is of least use to the team is calmer and more in control than Ripley.
“We got movement!”
A major part of the suspense in this film is built up using the motion trackers. This equipment is Inspired. The pulse is like a heartbeat and is incredibly creepy. The reason that it works is that it adheres to the idea of the unseen but present fear. The motion detector beeps frantically and rises in pitch as the unseen assailant gets closer. This helps immensely in creating suspense, the fear and threat of the unknown is just a beep away.
The first time the motion detector sets off, it turns out to be a false alarm: Newt, the sole survivor of the colonists. Often seen as the weakest point of the move, she still serves as a major purpose and adds another theme in the movie, that of parenthood. This is shown immediately when she refuses to talk to the marines. What is needed is a mother’s touch. This is the scene in which Ripley goes from fear to action. The opportunity provides purpose and drags her out of her shell-shock. What we see is that in order to conquer fear, you need to take action.
Ripley’s entire demeanor changes in this scene, her voice, actions and facial expressions. You can see clearly that she has experience as a parent, unlike the rest of the marines. The hot chocolate scene is an example of this – when Newt corrects Ripley on her name, you see an understanding, a knowledge that children are wise beyond their years – she treats her on the level, immediately establishing a bond, transcending the 57 years of difference between them.
“Stop your grinnin’ and drop your linen.”
It’s here that we see the marines confident for the last time.
Hudson discovers the colonists, gathered together beneath the cooling towers and so begins a master class in circles of tightening tension. During the cooling tower investigation, the motion trackers are like a heartbeat, the pulse working both as a timer ticking down, and as a builder of suspense.
The team ventures into the lair, like something out of a horrific nightmare.
We begin to alternate between the teams, their video streams and the observers in the Armored People Carrier.
We finally see what happened with the colonists. At the evidence of what the aliens did, you see a crack in Apone’s military facade. The horrific encounter with the remaining colonist hits on a profoundly deep level. Being cocooned, helpless, forced impregnation and the use of the human body as a vessel, the feeling of an alien life form gestating inside you, growing, moving, preparing to tear its way out of your body. it’s a fate worse than death, birthing a monster.
Finally, after an hour of buildup, the aliens are revealed. The way it’s done highlights the otherworldliness of the species: they seem to materialize from nothing, emerging from the rocks on the planet surface. This highlights that the team, and the colonists are in a place that they do not belong, and are at a disadvantage. The aliens have adapted to the planet, it’s their environment. The humans are out of their element.
As the aliens approach, you can’t quite pick out their individual features within their movement. This feeling of perceiving a presence, but not being able to discern it is deeply unsettling. It taps into our deepest fears, like a nightmare which you can’t escape.
“They’re coming out of the goddamn walls!”
The first kill is incredible. It’s as if the alien comes out of a painting to grab the marine. It’s a nightmare come to life.
The aliens have arrived.
The way in which the ambush is filmed was way ahead of its time. There’s a great mix of reactions from Ripley and the crew on the APC and on the marines’ cameras. The multiple perspectives work in capturing the panic and madness of the attack. The scene was most likely filmed in this way due to budgetary reasons, however it actually works in the film’s favor. In filming the attack from multiple, frantic perspectives, we only catch glimpses of the aliens, keeping their mystery intact and maintaining the scare factor. We see snatches here and there, but our minds fill in the rest. Though this article will not cover the later movies, one of the major criticisms of them was that they were not scary. Looking at this film, you can see that a bigger budget is not always better. Being limited can result in memorable creativity.
There is a major theme at play during this attack – The importance of experienced leadership. In the midst of conflict, Gorman follows training procedure, spouting military jargon and complex terminology. It is directly through Gorman’s orders that Apone meets his end. As he focuses on the message, he takes his eye off the battle. The most experienced of all the marines is taken out in the first attack, leaving the team without a commander on the field. With the death of the Apone, the team quickly breaks down. It was Apone, not Gorman that kept the team together.
Had the team stopped engaging the aliens and tried to follow Gorman’s orders they would have been completely wiped out. Instead, its Ripley’s command, forged through experience and proactive thinking which saves the few remaining marines.
During the desperate escape, we see that Vaszquez, inadvertently kills Drake. Her reaction to his death is the only time in which she gets emotional and forgets her combat training. Though nothing is ever stated, this suggests a relationship between the two, another example of a world beyond what we see in the movie, every character feels fleshed out, until their flesh is burned by concentrated acid.
From start to finish, this entire sequence is approximately eight minutes. That’s one hour of built up tension, for eight minutes of action.
Within that eight minute time-frame, we see:
• horror
• blood and guts
• action
• bedlam
• and a high speed chase
This sequence is comes across so well that much like a traumatic event in real life, time seems to expand. Your experience feels much longer than the actual time taken. A masterfully executed sequence, and one of the many memorable ones throughout the movie.
In that one scene alone, approximately half of the team is lost, and expectations have been turned upside down.
This is shown in each of the characters and the change in their personas:
• Hudson, initially the cocky, loudmouthed marine now has his tail between legs: “Let’s just bug out and call it even.”
• Vaszquez, the combat veteran that lives for combat, now has a death wish: “Nerve gas the whole fucking nest.”
• Ripley has a converse reaction, initially the most afraid, is now the most extreme: “We nuke the facility from orbit. It’s the only way to be sure.”
• Burke’s true character is revealed at this point. He uses fake morality as cover for the dollar value of the facility, ignoring the threat that is currently facing them.
From here we can see that the odds are stacked against the team, but things will only get worse.