Is that a man in there? - 40 years of The Thing (1982)
John Carpenter's horror classic triumphantly returns, decades after its undignified release.
Released in 1982, few films represent John Carpenter’s body of work better than The Thing – it’s also likely his best film. Based on John W. Campbell Jr.’s Who Goes There, Antarctic researchers encounter a shapeless alien monstrosity, fueling their paranoia as it consumes and replaces them.
As with the rest of Carpenter’s filmography, there’s no time to lose, with a tight run time and quick pacing. The opening shot of a wobbly spaceship hurtling towards earth feels more in line with the previous adaptation, 1951’s Thing from Another World. The subsequent scene is far superior and perhaps the best instance of “in media res” ever put to film: gun-wielding Norwegians hurl explosives from their helicopter in pursuit of a lone husky
Overkill? Don’t count on it.
The Thing never lets up after that perfect opening, as even the slower sequences – mainly tedious, everyday life on the research base – have an underlying tension. Drifting camera work and clever framing conveys to the viewer that there’s something wrong before the creature makes itself known.
Throughout the film, the setting feels at once both uncomfortably cramped and hopelessly vast. Exterior shots of endless snowfields establish that there’s no hope of rescue, but the real genius is how the relative safety of the base itself is presented. A mix of clever camerawork and set design highlights how confined the characters are, without feeling so small that an alien shapeshifter can’t run amok undetected.
As with most Carpenter films, the cast is left largely undefined outside of the role they need to play for the plot to happen. Even then enough is given to make each character distinct and human – a necessity for a film where anyone could be an inhuman imitation.
Competent direction and strong performances from the likes of Kurt Russell and Keith David keep the film moving, particularly as preexisting tensions flare and fellow humans pose as much of a risk as their alien adversary.
Wilfred Brimley as the Doc feels like a microcosm of the cast’s growing paranoia, as figuring out the implications of the assimilating shapeshifter drives him over the edge.
Of course, The Thing’s staying power comes from its timeless creature effects. Tortured shapes, elaborate set pieces, and bizarre combinations of recognizable and more cryptic growths make for a unique monster, one that’s inspired countless imitators.
Alien, which shares more than a few broad strokes with this film, owes a lot of its staying power to how many monstrous forms the creature adopted. Of course, the xenomorph’s now iconic life cycle is a pop culture staple, robbing the film of what was once arguably its greatest strength. Especially as endless sequels tried to recapture that sense of not knowing just what the alien would turn into next.
While plenty of The Thing’s grotesque visuals have dripped into public consciousness, the nameless creature is consistently unpredictable. A composite of human and animal remains broken up by masses of tendrils, snapping mouths, and worse, it’s not only wildly different every scene but will often change shape between shots.
While the rest of the production has Carpenter’s usual craftsman like efficiency, the central idea elevates it: the Thing can be anything. Even you.
An offbeat sense of humor is injected into the relentless, paranoid tone as the cast succumbs to infection and the research station itself comes apart. The humor also gives some much-needed personality to the script, which is so lean that it could easily fall into the horror flick trap of relying too much on the monster. There’s a strange humor even to the Thing itself, as the forms are so bizarre it loops around to being comedic and then back again.
More clear cut is Ennio Morricone’s soundtrack, ominous and rhythmic with spikes of tension, like The Thing’s pacing. But the best scenes have no music, drawing out every second and leaving you to take in every unseemly sound, most notably the makeshift blood test.
The Thing would languish for decades, releasing next to E.T. The Extra-terrestrial (1982). Critics spurned the film and audiences opted for the peace-loving, arboreal Spielberg icon over a flesh-ripping, faceless horror. It’s since been reevaluated, enough to warrant a 2011 prequel of the same name.
Unfortunately it was a misfire, using last minute computer generated effects to tell the story of the Norwegian base camp that unearths the creature, something Carpenter accomplished far more artfully through bloody ruins, mangled corpses, recovered video tapes, and implication.
More recently there was a 40th anniversary rerelease in theaters that netted half a million dollars.
Though The Thing has been vindicated, the movie’s initial failure is sadly unsurprising. It’s a dehumanized, grotesque film with a bleak ending even by genre standards. But that’s also what’s guaranteed its place as a horror icon - The Thing is more than just shifting gore but a masterclass in pacing, a film that uses an otherworldly horror to explore familiar feelings of mistrust and isolation.