Editorials
Exhumed & Exonerated: ‘Alien 3’ (1992)
Every decade has its ups and downs when it comes to cinema, no matter the genre. Horror fans love to loft on high the output of the ‘30s & ‘40s, the ‘70s & ‘80s, and the more recent decades. More often than not, however, the 1990s are labeled as the worst decade for the genre. Not only that, but ‘90s horror tends to be written off as a whole, beyond a handful of undisputed classics. The purpose of Exhumed & Exonerated: The ‘90s Horror Project, is to refute those accusations by highlighting numerous gems from the decade. Stone cold classics will be tackled in this column from time to time, but its main purpose will be to seek out lesser-known and/or less-loved titles that I think deserve more attention and respect from fans. Let the mayhem begin!
Alien 3
Directed by David Fincher
Screenplay by Vincent Ward, David Giler, Walter Hill, and Larry Ferguson
Produced by Gordon Carroll, David Giler, and Walter Hill
Starring Sigourney Weaver, Charles S. Dutton, Ralph Brown, Charles Dance, Brian Glover, Danny Webb, Paul McGann, Pete Postlethwaite, Holt McCallany, and Lance Henriksen
Released on May 22, 1992
I was originally going to tackle something a bit more offbeat for this entry, but upon being reminded of “Alien Day”, I switched gears. Last week (4/26…LV-426…hooray for joke holidays) saw many around the nation (world?) celebrating Fox’s Alien franchise, particularly the first two films. What better way to follow things up the next day by taking a look at the dark horse third entry in the sci-fi/horror saga? David Fincher’s Alien 3 has its fans (spoilers: I’m one of them) but to this day it remains a wildly divisive installment in the series.
Why is it so divisive? Because the previous films, Aliens, saw Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) come out of her second traumatic encounter with the alien species not only triumphant, but with a new surrogate family. With Ripley as the mother, we were also given Rebecca “Newt” Jorden (Carrie Henn) as an adopted daughter, Corporal Dwayne Hicks (Michael Biehn) as the would-be father, and the android Bishop (Lance Henriksen) as the weird uncle, something ever family seems to have. In short, director/writer James Cameron had given the franchise’s lead a fairytale ending. Unfortunately, not all fairytales remain happy.
The opening sequence of Alien 3 sees these characters in hypersleep aboard the Sulaco, where we last saw them. So what goes wrong? You guessed it, there’s an alien on board! A fire breaks out, forcing the escape ship to be launched, but not before the little face-hugging fiend possibly manages to impregnate one of the three humans with an alien embryo. Life is a cruel bastard at times.
Making matters worse, the escape ship crash lands into the waters on a sparsely populated backwater planet. A planet whose inhabitants are all ex-convicts tasked with keeping a metalworks factory maintained. In the crash, one of the ship’s support beams impales Hicks in his sleep, killing him instantly. Bishop’s already-trashed android body is also further damages, with “pieces of him all over the place”. The malicious cherry atop this tragedy is that Newt is also dead; having drowned in her sleep after her cryo-tube became cracked.
Ripley is left alone; her new surrogate family ripped away from her even quicker than her co-workers were in the original film. Whereas the original film was about survival and the sequel about conquering your fear, the third becomes about a loss of faith and hope. It’s no coincidence that the writers chose to make the former prisoners into people who had found religion during their incarceration. Ripley is the faithless tossed among the faithful, attempting to find some meaning and purpose in the wake of another traumatic event.
What good is film dealing with faith that doesn’t have a demon running about? In addition to the mystery of whether or not one of the original trio has been impregnated by an alien, a second facehugger is revealed to have made it onto the escape pod. Upon landing, it “mates” with an animal. What kind of animal it latches onto depends on which cut of the film you are watching, of course. In the theatrical version, it attaches itself to a dog. In the extended producers cut, which hews closer to Fincher’s original vision of the film, it is an ox.
Regardless of the cut, we have a far faster and animalistic alien to deal with this time out. Complicating matters further is the fact that the facilities administration doesn’t believe a word of Ripley’s tale, at least not until the beast slaughters a handful of people. Worse yet, there are no weapons at this facility. After all, it wouldn’t be smart to have a bunch of guns or flamethrowers lying around where convicted murderers and rapists can access them, even if they are all supposedly “reformed” and have “found God at the ass end of space”. All of this contributes to the film’s mounting sense of hopelessness and dread.
All the franchise’s hallmarks are on full display here. We have Ripley at the center of it all as the voice of reason, just like she has been since the opening moments of Ridley Scott’s original. We have a colorful cast of characters, mostly of the blue collar variety, running about a dirty and rundown space facility. We have a few characters with their own agenda that does not gel with the rest of the group, especially in the extended cut. And, of course, we have the company, Weyland-Yutani, still trying to get their hands on the titular fiend…no matter the cost.
We could argue all day about whether or not it was right for Hicks, Newt, and (effectively) Bishop to be torn away from Ripley right out of the gate. Regardless of whether or not you personally agree with this decision, one made by Weaver herself, it’s simply the way the dice rolled. Whether or not that sits well with you, it’s impossible to deny the craftsmanship here. The theatrical cut of the film is compromised, but still a worthwhile sequel. The extended cut is even better, further exploring the new characters and the film’s themes.
Would it have been nice to see at least one more adventure with the three fallen survivors of Aliens? Of course! I love those characters as much as anyone. For a time, it was actually going to happen that way. Before Vincent Ward was brought in to craft a faith-oriented tale involving Ripley, there were three other completely different scripts written for a potential Alien 3. The first one, penned by Neuromancer author William Gibson, saw Ripley in a coma, with Hicks, Newt, and Bishop as the leads. There were also two further, wildly different scripts after that which contained no returning characters at all. One was penned by Eric Red (Near Dark) and the other by David Twohy (Pitch Black). All three can be easily found online, if you are curious, along with Ward’s own (quite different) script.
Alien 3 is an ugly, nihilistic sequel slathered in grease and grime and filled with a wide assortment of troubled characters. In addition to its unceremonious dispatching of the other survivors of Aliens, this also seems to be a sore point with those who do not care for the film. Alien 3 is almost the complete opposite of Aliens, even of Alien, and that’s exactly what I love about it. For most of the films in this franchise, the filmmakers behind them have been allowed to craft their own completely different take on this universe. Ridley Scott’s Alien is the ultimate monster movie. James Cameron’s Aliens is one of the best action films ever made. Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Alien: Resurrection is more of a dark comedy. Ridley Scott’s Prometheus is a weird Planet of the Vampires-esque space exploration flick. Only the Alien vs. Predator films really sidestep a signature style, instead opting for a more comic book-like approach.
Alien 3 might not be the sequel you wanted when you first saw it after watching the first two. I completely get that, but I believe that it is a great fill in its own right. The story and themes are compelling, the cast is great, and the visuals are striking. It’s an ugly sequel in every sense of the word, practically oozing with a feeling of hopelessness that is understandably off-putting to some viewers, but a unique and unforgettable one. It may not have impacted genre-filmmaking as much as its gargantuan predecessors, but it absolutely deserves its place as one of the best genre sequels we have received.
Up Next: Cast A Deadly Spell (1991)
Previously On…
Species | Mute Witness | Popcorn | Wishmaster | Alien 3 | Cast A Deadly Spell
Disturbing Behavior | The Sect | The Addams Family
College kids, strippers and vampires—those were Donald P. Borchers’ only requirements when he approached Richard Wenk about writing and directing a movie for New World Pictures. As requested, Wenk cooked up Vamp (1986), a tailor-made blend of the decade’s teen movie craze as well as its horror boom.
Grim and earnest stories were still very much a part of the ’80s horror landscape, yet Vamp is something of a comedy. One difference between it and, say, Saturday the 14th, though, is the former avoids using schtick. Wenk’s movie proves that horror comedies also don’t have to subtract thrills from their recipes. Of course, it takes a minute before reaching that point; college antics and culture shocks preface this one macabre misadventure.
Vamp‘s initial setup is apt for a typical college-set, sex-driven comedy; to bribe their way into a fraternity house, two pledges (Chris Makepeace, Robert Rusler) go looking for some adult entertainment. Without wasting time on any further exposition, the characters embark on an all-in-one-night trip that quickly detours into terror.
To procure their elusive MacGuffin—a stripper willing to gyrate for some frat boys—Keith (Makepeace) and AJ (Rusler), plus a third wheel named Duncan (Gedee Watanabe), trade the safety of their remote college campus for the seediness of some unnamed city. The setting is recognizably L.A. by day, but as soon as night falls, downtown, along with the characters, slips into a kind of surreal universe. Director of photography Elliot Davis gave this early entry on his prolific résumé an unusual yet distinctive look; that Mario Bava-esque, magenta-green lighting is omnipresent, so much so that it’s almost its own character.
Chris Makepeace and Robert Rusler in Vamp
The faint comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours are merited, although not just because of Vamp’s distinguishing nighttime aesthetic. Save for the primary characters, the supporting roles in Wenk’s movie are also quite colorful and transactional in their behavior. The difference here, though, is the additional urge to ruin Keith and his friends at every turn. Some of that harm is humorous and tolerable enough, whereas the moment Vamp dishes out its first fatality, it’s abundantly clear how this movie qualifies as horror.
Vamp falls into that category of horror movie that reveals its genre with a scream rather than a series of whispers. The opening scene can function as a hint of what lies ahead—things are not at all what they appear to be—but otherwise, Wenk is more than happy to hold off on the horror. When that time does come, though, it catches the viewer off guard. In addition to the pure shock value is that sudden decision to upend the movie’s foremost feature. Or so it would seem.
If afraid of major spoilage, those new to Vamp would be wise to stop reading here. There’s just no skirting around the fact that the central fellowship in this buddy movie hits a serious snag when AJ is killed. That development causes the story to become more of a “long, bad night” journey for Keith and his romantic interest. So while Wenk scores points for subverting expectations, there is also a touch of sadness in his decision. Because if Vamp does anything well, it’s making the characters likable.
Something that comes easily to Vamp—and other teen horror movies from this same era—is its ability to invent young characters worth caring about, or at the very least, are interesting and not so immediately off-putting. More impressive is how Wenk did all this without actually fleshing out those characters. Still and all, Keith and his kind are a grade above cookie-cutter, and in some cases, aren’t completely devoid of growth.
Grace Jones in Vamp
Vamp appeals with an assorted cast of characters. No two are the same, nor are they operating on the same wavelength. The cinematically extroverted AJ, whose actor conveyed charm and vulnerability in near equal amounts, comes alive when he’s at his most undead. Makepeace then makes the chronically cautious Keith a sympathetic fellow, even as he’s more and more affected by the night’s bizarre events. Meanwhile, Duncan is indeed the designated loser of the whole bunch, but Watanabe still manages to humanize him. As a bonus, the role didn’t require him to pull a Long Duk Dong.
As for Dedee Pfeiffer, she is plain adorable as the mysterious After Dark server nicknamed “Amaretto”. She spends all night fixing her dress strap while at the same time trying to get Keith to remember how he knows her. As their offbeat romance grows, it becomes another highlight of this movie. Whether or not Pfeiffer’s character is really a vampire also creates some welcome tension in the story.
Like a lot of its contemporaries, Vamp went on to become a bit of a cult classic. That current status is determined by several factors, but without a doubt, the casting of Grace Jones is the most considerable. The image of her writhing on that unique-looking chair, a Keith Haring original, springs to mind whenever this movie is brought up.
Chris Makepeace, Billy Drago and Paunita Nichols in Vamp
Prior to that first display of unequivocal horror, local vampire queen Katrina (Jones) took to the stage and delivered a strip show like no other. One would expect nothing less from that renowned model and performance artist. By now reports of Jones’ tardiness on set are no secret, yet it’s also hard to deny her commitment to the part of Katrina. It was, in fact, Jones who took charge of her character’s appearance—on top of Haring painting her body and that now-iconic chair, she had Andy Warhol handle her costuming. And not too many actors could seize a room’s attention without saying a single line of dialogue.
In 2022, Vamp received a retrospective novelization from Encyclopocalypse. This literary union of preexisting source material—Wenk’s original screenplay—and new ideas from author Christian Francis amounts to a more comprehensive visit to the After Dark Club. The basic story there is no different than what’s shown on screen; however, Francis gets creative with the characters’ origins and designs, and he enhances a number of key scenes.
The novelization expands on the urban and social decay of the main setting, and supplies a background for the After Dark Club. Sandy Baron’s character, Katrina’s emcee and familiar, is given ample motivation for sticking around; up until the fiery end, he is loyal to his friend and former business partner “Squeak”, who looks like he was “fed through a combine harvester, and left as nothing more than a heap of mangled remains”. Then there is Billy Drago’s character Snow, the leader of a street gang called The Dragons. His reason for menacing Keith and AJ is more altruistic than in the movie; he and his peers act tough to scare off any potential food for the vampires.
Lisa Lyon in Vamp
If not for all the backstories, Francis’ Vamp would be a hell of a lot shorter. Instead, this tie-in read dives into how AJ met Keith—the orphaned Anthony Joseph hailed from a broken home back in Brooklyn—and how their friendship flourished over the years. Keith’s archership is no longer just an assumed part of his entire being; it’s a confidence-building extracurricular for a boy who got picked on before coming into the protection of the new kid in town. These supplemental, in-depth looks at the protagonists, plus their close connection, are maybe unnecessary. The movie already did a fair and concise job of addressing their platonic intimacy without the need for flashbacks and insights, specifically in that scene where AJ lays it all out as he sacrifices himself.
Where the novelization gets off course is its approach to the minor characters. Intermittently backstorying the likes of Katrina’s indentured servants, Seko (Leila Hee Olsen) and Vlad (Brad Logan), ends up disturbing the flow of the writing. Was it absolutely essential that readers know Vlad was the Grand Duke of the House of Romanov, or how Snow’s accomplice Maven (Paunita Nichols) became so dentally challenged? No, not really. However, one’s mileage with these random biographies may vary.
The novelization is a more substantial experience, but for a movie like Vamp, less is more. And as plentiful as they are, it never simply coasts on its campy charms, either. The character work sits comfortably in that realm between cursory and meticulous, the script is sharper than first realized, and Greg Cannom’s vampire makeup is straightforward yet effective. Most of all, the movie didn’t squander its out-of-the-box concept. Richard Wenk made his vision of a “comic nightmare in which just about anything that can go wrong does” come true, and it is very enjoyable.
You must be logged in to post a comment.