In 1986, and in spite of looking older than I actually was, there was little chance of me getting into a cinema to see anything beyond the lightweight likes of House and Poltergeist II or PG fare like Little Shop of Horrors; getting to see more “adult” horror on the big screen was impossible. Thank goodness, then, for my local video library. Entering the smoke-filled space with all the swagger I could muster, and the fluff growing beneath my nose arranged into something vaguely resembling a moustache, I marched straight up to the front desk and issued my demand. Well, I asked if they had Aliens in stock. On discovering that they did, I handed over my (parents’) video-rental card, along with a handful of loose change, and left with my prize.
This is probably the time to mention that I had not seen Alien at that point, even though it was my favourite movie. I loved Alien. I loved everything about Alien. But my love for Alien was based entirely on the 1979 photobook and not a viewing of the movie itself. Still, sitting down to watch Aliens, my familiarity with the events of Alien was such that I was jerky with excitement. And I was not disappointed. So much has been written about Aliens, its helter-skelter pacing, relentless action scenes, and engrossing storyline, that I won’t go on about it here. Suffice to say that after 2 ¼ hours I was left feeling exhausted and full of anticipation about what would come next.
I didn’t have to wait long to find out. On the end of the videotape was a trailer for Alien. This glimpse of the events in Alien (no longer, for me, just a series of static images in a book) was more than I could take. Returning Aliens to the video library the next day, I asked if they had Alien. On learning that they did, I quickly took it home, put it in on, and hit play ... and felt my heart sink. Hard to believe that it never occurred to me that flicking through the photobook of a movie and watching the actual movie would be so different but I was only young (even if I did look older). With the photobook, I tended to race through the first half and then pore over the stills of the alien during the second half. With the movie, I was forced to sit through the first half and then try not to blink as glimpses of the alien flashed past my eyes during the second half. Coupled with this, the film just didn’t look like I had imagined. The shots seemed badly framed. The Nostromo’s corridors, the alien landscapes, and the sheer vastness of space felt strangely flat. There wasn’t the feeling of something epic that I had felt with the photobook. Watching Alien had turned out to be a painfully disappointing experience.
As a result, I spent the next few years singing the praises of Aliens. More guns! More action! More aliens! As far as I was concerned, Aliens was the better movie. And then I chanced upon a new review of Alien in Starburst magazine. The review was of an upcoming widescreen release of Alien on home video. The review stated that the previous video release of Alien had been drastically cropped to make the 1:2.35-ratio movie fit onto a 4:3-ratio TV. The review stated that this new widescreen version of Alien was nothing like the previous video version. The review stated it was like watching a completely different movie. Now, I am not saying that I was totally convinced by this assertion. As I said, I had come to accept that Aliens was a better movie than Alien. But something did niggle at the back of my mind.
Older and wiser, or just plain desperate, I decided to take a chance and paid what amounted to half-a-week’s wages (a Saturday job at Asda didn’t go very far back then) to purchase the new, VHS, widescreen version of Alien. Looking back, it does seem a strange thing to have done. I don’t know if it was that review, some sort of cinematic insight, or just a last chance to rekindle what had once been the greatest love of my life (please don’t tell my better half). Regardless, I sat down and watched the movie with a sort of doubtful hope.
I’m not sure what happened over the course of the subsequent 2 hours. All I can say is that suddenly everything made sense. The long, slow takes of the first half of the movie now seemed like a masterclass in suspense. The Nostromo’s corridors, the alien landscapes, and the vastness of space were as overwhelming as I had always imagined they would be. And the alien itself didn't seem so lost in the shadows but appeared to linger longer on screen, its impossibly extending jaws almost capable of consuming the entire ship as well as its (mostly) doomed crew. As for Aliens, a movie so beloved by me for so many years, thanks to its more guns, more action, and more aliens. Well, that was instantly relegated to lesser-sequel status. Sorry, Gale and James.
Since then, there have been more sequels and even prequels (to varying effect, to be sure). We have had the highs of Alien3, Prometheus, and Alien Covenant (please – I can hear your groans from here!) and the lows of Alien Resurrection, Aliens vs. Predator, and Aliens vs. Predator Requiem (and if anyone groans at those three, you deserve everything that Ridley Scott does next). What has remained constant through it all, however, is my love for the original. Whatever happens with this still-wonderful series (yes, it is still wonderful, I am here to tell you), I will always be able to put on the original and still be horrified and astounded in equal measure as much as I was when I first thumbed through the photobook all of those years ago.
‘til the next time ...