'Alien': if you find alien eggs in outer space, don't touch them
There are many movies I haven't seen. To give you an idea of the magnitude of the tragedy, until confinement I hadn't seen Dirty dancing (what a marvel) nor Pretty woman. I wanted to take advantage of this series of articles to effectively fill some of my cinematic gaps. In an era of massive audiovisual supply and absolute atomization of channels, I cure my FOMO in deferment. This week I saw Alien for the first time and these are my notes:
- The Spanish title seems like a terrible spoiler*: Alien, the eighth passenger. Now we know that the alien, whatever it is, will board the ship. And to top it off, the first frame of the film indicates that the crew of the Nostromo consists of seven people. This title is on the same level as other translations like that ofEternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind (Forget Me Not**) or Rosemary’s baby (The Devil's Seed). Thanks for nothing.
- The breakfast table is a marvel: they eat cereal, they smoke, the cat walks on it. More than astronauts, they look like the crew of a fishing boat or a student dorm.
- The scene where the first victim lies stretched out with a kind of space cephalopod attached to their face perfectly summarizes the expectations of my imminent trip to Galicia.
- I find that in general they are all extremely calm considering the magnitude of the atrocities they are experiencing; there are Sicilian families who make more fuss deciding which cheese should go on the table. Nor do I think it is appropriate or efficient to attack an extraterrestrial beast with dentist tools from Imaginarium.
- The population is divided into two types of people: those who cover their eyes in the face of a scary scene and those who cover their ears. After an ambitious anthropological investigation led by me (a poll on Substack), I have surprisingly found that an overwhelming 90% cover their eyes. I am an ear-coverer. I have turned down the TV volume to the minimum without realizing it a few times. Terror achieved.
- Lesson one: if you find alien eggs in outer space, don't touch them (in 1979, I guess it wasn't so clear). Lesson two: if you can't find the enemy, it's probably inside (your companion who hasn't learned lesson one). Lesson three: the ultimate evil is always the company. Lesson four: the woman-cat combo is a winner.
- Obviously, there is internet discussion about Sigourney Weaver's butt and butt crack.
- What a pleasure to experience a hypersleep like Ripley's in the capsule, with the cat, after having definitively killed the alien. I imagine it's like the night I installed the ceiling fan.
- The Texas Chain Saw Massacre + 2001: A Space Odyssey + the Gràcia festivals (because it's a small, claustrophobic space and everyone is glistening and sweaty, and you run into people you're variably excited to see).
- Sometimes I wonder what it must have been like to enter a cathedral in the 14th century, with no image of more imposing buildings in one's mind. Now I wonder what it must have been like to see Alien in its premiere at the cinema, because I had already seen Alien without ever having seen Alien (that's what happens with iconic and culturally relevant films), and yet I found it terrifying.
- The person inside the alien was Bolaji Badejo, a very thin 26-year-old Nigerian man, two meters eight inches tall, and at that time a graphic design student. He died at thirty-nine from a blood disease. Now I will think of him from time to time.
Verdict: spectacular. Continuing with the Ridley Scott bingo, I liked it more than Blade Runner. A good film with a strong female protagonist and Egyptian devotion to the cat: a blessing for the soul. *The time has come to collectively address a crucial issue: a good translation of spoiler in Catalan. Matatrama, for example?In Italian, however, it was worse: If you leave me, I'll erase you (If you leave me, I'll erase you)