Editorials
‘Alien: Covenant’ Just Made David the Franchise’s Best Character
Before Ellen Ripley came into contact with a Xenomorph, there was David.
There are a few hallmarks of Alien movies that can be found in each and every installment, and though Ridley Scott deviated a great deal from expectation with his divisive 2012 prequel to the original classic, there were no doubt strands of that Alien DNA in his visionary Prometheus. One of the most notable of those strands was the inclusion of David, a brand new android character portrayed by Michael Fassbender.
Beginning with Alien in 1979, androids have of course been a staple of the Alien universe, with not-quite-humans like Ash, Bishop and even Resurrection‘s Annalee Call being some of the most fan-favorite characters in the saga. But with Prometheus and now this year’s Alien: Covenant, Ridley Scott has taken that android element to a whole new level. Just underneath the surface of the Xenomorph terror of the Alien films has always been that idea of creationism, but now it’s at the forefront of a bold new vision that casts an android as the main driving force behind literally everything we’ve ever seen from the franchise.
As a result, Scott has birthed a character even more interesting than Ripley.
This is your Alien: Covenant spoiler warning, by the way.
As revealed in Alien: Covenant, it was David who was responsible for creating the entire breed known as the Xenomorph, and it’s David who is the star of the whole damn show in Scott’s hybrid of a Prometheus sequel and a more straight up Alien prequel than what we got back in 2012. In their reviews of the new film, many have been bemoaning the fact that the Ellen Ripley-esque Daniels (Katherine Waterston) isn’t exactly the most interesting character to be leading the franchise down a new path, but that’s because she’s simply not the central figure in Scott’s new vision – nor is/was Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace), who is unceremoniously written out of the story in a way that seems quite intentional.
The new Alien Universe, you see, isn’t about the human characters. It’s not even about the Xenomorphs, per se. It’s about David. And Alien: Covenant is Scott’s Frankenstein story, with David in the role of the Doctor and the Xenos as his monsters.
Dating back to Prometheus, it was immediately clear that David wasn’t quite like the other android characters we had previously seen in the Alien films, as he had a devious curiosity that seemed to not exactly be in line with the way he was programmed. There’s a wonderful scene in the film where David has a conversation with Charlie Holloway, right before he infects Holloway with the Engineer-created black goo that eventually allows him to wipe out the entire Engineer race (presumably…) and then create the Xenomorph.
During the conversation, which is pivotal to understanding every subsequent action from David, it becomes clear that David has the same questions about his own existence that the human characters aboard the Prometheus have about theirs – they’re on a mission to find and get answers from their creators, while David is already face-to-face with his creators on board the ship.
“Why do you think your people made me?” David asks Holloway. “We made you because we could,” replies Holloway, dismissing the android as being an inferior machine that has no real purpose aside from serving his human creators. This clearly angers David, who knows that it is Holloway who is the inferior being. “Can you imagine how disappointing it would be for you to hear the same thing from your creators,” he responds to Holloway, shortly thereafter infecting him with the aforementioned goo and kick-starting the film’s mayhem.
Watching Prometheus back in 2012, my takeaway from that scene was that David infected Holloway because he was carrying out orders from his master, Peter Weyland – he was testing out the goo to see if it could somehow help fulfill Weyland’s selfish desire to prolong his own life, I figured. But after seeing Alien: Covenant, which sort of retroactively makes Prometheus an even more compelling movie than it already was, it’s clear that David was operating of his own volition all along.
David was created to serve, as we see in the opening scene of Alien: Covenant, but his incredible level of programmed sentience made him question that purpose right off the bat – after having a deep conversation with Weyland, David is somewhat taken aback when Weyland orders him to pour him a drink. You can see by the look on David’s face in this moment that he had forgotten for a second that he was not human. Weyland’s order reminds him that he’s been created for one purpose and one purpose only: to serve.
But unlike Bishop and the others, David doesn’t want to serve. David wants to create – a very human desire that has been intentionally removed from later model Walter, played by a much more monotone Fassbender. Davis is an android who knows that the very nature of being an android makes him superior to all human beings (“You will die, I will not,” he tells Weyland), so he develops such a level of hatred for his puny creators that he wants to completely destroy them – furthermore, he wants to (and does) destroy the creators of his creators as well. In the place of the Engineers and the humans, David wants to give rise to his own master race of superior beings that are on his level.
It just so happens that those superior beings are the “perfect organisms” we met back in 1979, firmly tying Ridley Scott’s heady ideas of creationism into the back end of the franchise that the “Prometheus Universe” was always intended to be a prequel to. And David is the linchpin of it all, his curiosity and disdain for human life leading to the birth of the monster that would go on to take so many human lives in the decades-long Alien saga.
The Xenomorphs, however, aren’t the franchise’s devils. Rather, it is David who is the Alien series’ one true Devil. And you’d be hard pressed to find a more interesting, nuanced, and utterly compelling depiction of the fallen angel Lucifer than Michael Fassbender’s David in the one-two punch of Prometheus and Alien: Covenant.
He didn’t want to serve in Heaven. So he’s reigning in Hell.
Editorials
‘Leprechaun Returns’ – The Charm of the Franchise’s Legacy Sequel
The erratic Leprechaun franchise is not known for sticking with a single concept for too long. The namesake (originally played by Warwick Davis) has gone to L.A., Las Vegas, space, and the ‘hood (not once but twice). And after an eleven-year holiday since the Davis era ended, the character received a drastic makeover in a now-unmentionable reboot. The critical failure of said film would have implied it was time to pack away the green top hat and shillelagh, and say goodbye to the nefarious imp. Instead, the Leprechaun series tried its luck again.
The general consensus for the Leprechaun films was never positive, and the darker yet blander Leprechaun: Origins certainly did not sway opinions. Just because the 2014 installment took itself seriously did not mean viewers would. After all, creator Mark Jones conceived a gruesome horror-comedy back in the early nineties, and that format is what was expected of any future ventures. So as horror legacy sequels (“legacyquels”) became more common in the 2010s, Leprechaun Returns followed suit while also going back to what made the ‘93 film work. This eighth entry echoed Halloween (2018) by ignoring all the previous sequels as well as being a direct continuation of the original. Even ardent fans can surely understand the decision to wipe the slate clean, so to speak.
Leprechaun Returns “continued the [franchise’s] trend of not being consistent by deciding to be consistent.” The retconning of Steven Kostanski and Suzanne Keilly’s film was met with little to no pushback from the fandom, who had already become accustomed to seeing something new and different with every chapter. Only now the “new and different” was familiar. With the severe route of Origins a mere speck in the rearview mirror, director Kotanski implemented a “back to basics” approach that garnered better reception than Zach Lipovsky’s own undertaking. The one-two punch of preposterous humor and grisly horror was in full force again.
With Warwick Davis sitting this film out — his own choice — there was the foremost challenge of finding his replacement. Returns found Davis’ successor in Linden Porco, who admirably filled those blood-stained, buckled shoes. And what would a legacy sequel be without a returning character? Jennifer Aniston obviously did not reprise her final girl role of Tory Redding. So, the film did the next best thing and fetched another of Lubdan’s past victims: Ozzie, the likable oaf played by Mark Holton. Returns also created an extension of Tory’s character by giving her a teenage daughter, Lila (Taylor Spreitler).
It has been twenty-five years since the events of the ‘93 film. The incident is unknown to all but its survivors. Interested in her late mother’s history there in Devil’s Lake, North Dakota, Lila transferred to the local university and pledged a sorority — really the only one on campus — whose few members now reside in Tory Redding’s old home. The farmhouse-turned-sorority-house is still a work in progress; Lila’s fellow Alpha Epsilon sisters were in the midst of renovating the place when a ghost of the past found its way into the present.
The Psycho Goreman and The Void director’s penchant for visceral special effects is noted early on as the Leprechaun tears not only into the modern age, but also through poor Ozzie’s abdomen. The portal from 1993 to 2018 is soaked with blood and guts as the Leprechaun forces his way into the story. Davis’ iconic depiction of the wee antagonist is missed, however, Linden Porco is not simply keeping the seat warm in case his predecessor ever resumes the part. His enthusiastic performance is accentuated by a rotten-looking mug that adds to his innate menace.
The obligatory fodder is mostly young this time around. Apart from one luckless postman and Ozzie — the premature passing of the latter character removed the chance of caring about anyone in the film — the Leprechaun’s potential prey are all college aged. Lila is this story’s token trauma kid with caregiver baggage; her mother thought “monsters were always trying to get her.” Lila’s habit of mentioning Tory’s mental health problem does not make a good first impression with the resident mean girl and apparent alcoholic of the sorority, Meredith (Emily Reid). Then there are the nicer but no less cursorily written of the Alpha Epsilon gals: eco-conscious and ex-obsessive Katie (Pepi Sonuga), and uptight overachiever Rose (Sai Bennett). Rounding out the main cast are a pair of destined-to-die bros (Oliver Llewellyn Jenkins, Ben McGregor). Lila and her peers range from disposable to plain irritating, so rooting for any one of them is next to impossible. Even so, their overstated personalities make their inevitable fates more satisfying.
Where Returns excels is its death sequences. Unlike Jones’ film, this one is not afraid of killing off members of the main cast. Lila, admittedly, wears too much plot armor, yet with her mother’s spirit looming over her and the whole story — comedian Heather McDonald put her bang-on Aniston impersonation to good use as well as provided a surprisingly emotional moment in the film — her immunity can be overlooked. Still, the other characters’ brutal demises make up for Lila’s imperviousness. The Leprechaun’s killer set-pieces also happen to demonstrate the time period, seeing as he uses solar panels and a drone in several supporting characters’ executions. A premortem selfie and the antagonist’s snarky mention of global warming additionally add to this film’s particular timestamp.
Critics were quick to say Leprechaun Returns did not break new ground. Sure, there is no one jetting off to space, or the wacky notion of Lubdan becoming a record producer. This reset, however, is still quite charming and entertaining despite its lack of risk-taking. And with yet another reboot in the works, who knows where the most wicked Leprechaun ever to exist will end up next.
Horror contemplates in great detail how young people handle inordinate situations and all of life’s unexpected challenges. While the genre forces characters of every age to face their fears, it is especially interested in how youths might fare in life-or-death scenarios.
The column Young Blood is dedicated to horror stories for and about teenagers, as well as other young folks on the brink of terror.
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