Logan’s Moving Pictures is back, looking at one of the most underrated entries into the Alien franchise: Alien3
I couldn’t tell you how old I was the first time I saw Ridley Scott’s Alien, but given it premiered in theaters the year I was born, I’m going to say that it wasn’t when I was just a year old. Ditto for James Cameron’s follow-up, Aliens, which debuted 7 years later in 1986, when I was a mere eight years old. I can’t even tell you if we watched the first two films in the franchise on home video via a rental, or if they were just part of the many, many films my dad would record off of basic cable or those free HBO weekends that would come along once every few months. I haven’t had the good fortune to see either of them in re-release either, but I can tell you that those films, specifically Scott’s original masterpiece, were seminal in forming my love of the Sci-Fi genre. If Ryan were still here I’m confident he’d echo that sentiment, though he’d argue with me that Cameron made a better film. He’d be wrong, but he’d argue nonetheless.
What I can tell you is that the first Alien film either of us saw in a theater was David Fincher’s entry into the franchise (his first film, no less), Alien3. I can also tell you that it was at the old Carmike Cinema 8 off Airport Thruway in Columbus. The same place I’d see Con Air every night for weeks years later. It was 1992, and though I can’t imagine it was opening weekend, I do remember that we were the only people in the theater for that fateful screening. I also know that we were with a good friend of our mother’s, a doctor, but unfortunately I can no longer remember his name. He was a movie buff, if I recall correctly, and it being the kind of thing our mother wouldn’t want to see, he agreed to take us. Keeping in mind that we would have been fourteen at the time, and this was a Rated R film. These days it might be fairly easy to skate by being slightly under-age, but back then it was akin to buying alcohol; if you looked at all too young, they wanted ID.
Walking in, the only consideration we had for the movie was that it was the latest entry in a franchise we both really liked. And at the time we really only liked it on a superficial level. That is to say, because they were kinda scary, somewhat action packed (Aliens at least) and starred Sigourney Weaver, who we both had a mad crush on since we’d first seen Ghostbusters. I don’t think either of us were prepared for what we were about to witness though. Even after we’d seen the trailer and various television specials that used to air on cable back in the day. The kind of stuff you’d find on the special features of a Blu-Ray release. So, we knew about the prison planet, we knew about the head shaving; we even knew about the dog-alien hybrid. But seeing the end of the franchise (so it seemed at the time), and of our intrepid heroine? We had no idea that was coming.
I don’t know why I decided to rewatch it, maybe because as I write this it’s spooky season, maybe because I’d been recently talking about Tony Scott, Ridley’s brother, and it just lead me to the Alien franchise, which lead me to remembering our first experience with it in a theater, especially with that ending. Either way, this entry had been on my mind for awhile and I decided to boot up the film and watch it for the first time in years. Maybe for the first time since the series got its first deluxe DVD box set, which presented two versions of each film, along with so much bonus content it took me two weeks to get through it.
One of the most interesting discoveries about going through that set was listening to most of the creatives behind the films talk about the enormous difficulties they had with each one of them. All but the fourth, Alien Resurrection (at the time it was the final in the official franchise), were plagued with issues, and somehow each one of them had come through to the other side as (in my opinion) a near perfect film. On top of that, the Director’s Cuts for both Alien and Aliens somehow make them even better. What I was most excited for in those special features though was diving into the supplementals for Alien 3. By then I had known Fincher was locked out of the editing room, denied his own cut of the film and basically hung out to dry by the studio. The experience was so bad he basically declined to participate in any of it, even all those years later.
So, instead of a Director’s Cut of his Alien film, they assembled a “Workprint” cut, adding in some connective scenes that made the story flow a little better, and removing the now-goofy-looking alien hatchling that emerges from Ripley’s chest as she tosses herself into her own funeral pyre. Even without Fincher overlooking the new cut, it proved to be an even better version of the film. The biggest flaw was the sound; unfortunately most of the scenes were never properly re-recorded, so it’s really difficult to hear. However, with the Blu-Ray release they were able to go back in and clean a lot of it up, improving the film even more.
One of the most fascinating things about the making of Alien franchise up until this point, to me at least, is that every single one of them were plagued with problems from the minute production started. Neither Ridley Scott or James Cameron had an easy time with their entries, and with Fincher being locked out of the editing room and refusing to come back to restore his original vision, it’s easy to make the assumption about how well things went for him (or you can watch those special features and they’ll tell you). It wasn’t until the fourth entry, Alien Resurrection, that everything seemed to run smoothly for everyone involved…and if you happen to watch it, you might agree that it’s easily the worst entry in the franchise, even if you add in the films that have come since.
Watching Alien 3 this time around, I couldn’t help but think about that fact. I know it’s my opinion that Resurrection is the least of them (definitely in the first four), but there’s no arguing the adversity the filmmakers behind the first three faced while trying to bring their visions to life. I love that they also didn’t try to hide those issues years later, and in some ways have shown that it’s not that the movies succeed despite those troubles, but maybe they excelled and succeeded BECAUSE of the difficulties. I guess there’s something to be said for adversity breeding success, even in cinema and art.
I just watched the original theatrical version of the film, forgoing the Extended Cut, but only because laziness got the better of me, and rather than dig out my own copy of the film, or Ryan’s (he actually had a hand-me-down VHS boxed set release, a gift to me from my Dad at Christmas one year), I saw that it was available for streaming and went that route. I’d love to say it’s still the masterpiece I’ve always believed it to be, but I’d certainly be lying. I’m afraid that seeing something even akin to Fincher’s original vision has all-but ruined my feelings on this version.
It’s hard not to see all the narrative flaws, the pieces that are missing to bridge certain scenes, the missing character beats that tell you why you maybe should care about these hapless fools that are now doomed to death. It could also have been that I was just so enamored with the movie from my very first viewing that I needed that much distance to begin to see that it was always a little flawed. But don’t let that fool you, I don’t love it any less.
The movie opens in a devastating way and marches to and equally devastating end, and in between that we’re introduced to a cadre of possibly, hopefully reformed evil men, sent to this desolate world because they were not fit to be among civilized people. Somehow they’ve managed to save themselves, those that survived at least, adapting and adopting certain tenants from all manner of faiths. Some of them have truly repented and given up their repulsively criminal ways, while some were merely “good” because they lacked the opportunity to be bad.
Enter Ellen Ripley.
Ellen Ripley, who has survived literally and metaphorically facing down her demons, two times over at that. Ellen Ripley, who awakens to find out she’s lost the only two souls left in the universe that she had any connection with, one of them being her surrogate daughter. Ellen Ripley, who must come to terms with the fact that her life is over no matter what she does next. Ellen Ripley, who chooses to still fight the good fight, to try to save men who dismiss and degrade her, and to try to keep the universe safe from this bio weapon The Company means to utilize against anyone and everyone who might stand against them. Ellen Riply, she who has become Death.
The messiness of the film aside, there is no arguing the performances here. Charles S Dutton gives what might be a career-best, and there are so many fun and tragic minor turns from everyone else, especially Charles Dance (I’d forgotten Tywin Lannister was even in this movie!), who simply does not get enough screen time. Sigourney Weaver, in my opinion, was never more solid in this role than she was here. She’s the perfect blend of hopeless and fearless, and it’s just beautiful to experience. I couldn’t help but see myself and my own battles with grief and unfortunate circumstances as I watched her fight off the demon that’s hounded her one final time.
I have such a vivid memory of watching Weaver’s Ripley let go of her seemingly endless struggle, her constant battles, internal and external, of her own life, and just fall into the fires of the iron forge she’s found herself in. I can’t say for sure that I cried in that original moment, but most likely I held the tears back, not wanting to look weak in front of my brother and this family friend who’d agreed to tag along with us so we could get in the theater. I can say that, in the decades since, across dozens of viewings, I’ve cried plenty of tears for my beloved Ripley.
Sometimes they’re because she’d come so far to only have it end in a last fit of violence and self-sacrifice. Sometimes it’s because she chose to go out on her own terms, or that she even got the choice at all. So many of us don’t. Sometimes it’s because, even right up to the end, she was fighting the good fight; that’s another thing most of us won’t get to lay claim to. Sometimes it’s because there’s a bit of sad beauty in knowing that the fight is over, and in knowing that you don’t have to keep trying to stand against it all, you can simply let go, and it will all be over. It’s about realizing that there’s no such thing as a happy ending because there’s never anything happy about endings.