Cult Movie Review: Pitch Black (2000)

Pitch Black (2000) from director David Twohy -- the first of three Riddick movies starring Vin Diesel -- is the very best John Carpenter movie ever made by an artist who doesn’t happen to be John Carpenter. 

By that description, I mean simply that many of Carpenter’s creative obsessions are in full evidence here. 

Specifically, Pitch Black features both the corrupt establishment figure (a “blue eyed devil” called Johns), and the criminal/anti-hero (Riddick) as protagonist we are acquainted with from such films as Escape from New York (1981) and Escape from L.A. (1996).

The Twohy film also features a capable “Hawksian” woman (Caroline Fry), much like the one highlighted in Assault on Precinct 13 (1976), as well as the faceless villains we recall from Assault, Prince of Darkness (1987), and Ghosts of Mars (2001).  Only this time, the dangerous swarm isn’t human in nature, but rather a horde of piranhas-of-the-air that attack and kill without relent. 

John Carpenter also frequently contextualizes his films as Westerns, albeit ones re-framed in urban, futuristic or horror settings.  Vis-a-vis Pitch Black no less an authority than the late Roger Ebert observed that, similarly, “most of the plot could be ported into a Western.” 

He’s not wrong. 

But where Ebert saw this descriptor of “Western” as a signifier of Pitch Black’s dearth of imagination, I view it instead as representative of Twohy’s dedicated and accomplished effort to keep the film squarely in the tradition and spirit of Carpenter’s beloved oeuvre, as well as the cherished tradition of several decades of science fiction B movies in general (think: Moon Zero Two [1969], Battle Beyond the Stars [1980], Outland [1981] or even Serenity [2005], for example).  The West and Outer Space are, after all, both “untamed” frontiers.  Carpenter films are remakes of Howard Hawks Westerns, in many cases, so Pitch Black honors that tradition in terms of milieu as well.

Beyond the abundant similarities to Carpenter’s film canon, Pitch Black -- and Chronicles of Riddick (2004) as well --specifically concern the true, raw,“exposed” nature of the human animal, and debate the very nature of evil itself. 

In particular, Vin Diesel’s Richard B. Riddick is a man that is frequently described as “evil” in Twohy’s films, though he does not possess qualities typically regarded as evil by many of us, I would wager.  

Riddick is not ignorant, for one thing (and ignorance is a prerequisite for evil). 

More significantly, Riddick does not lack for a governing moral or ethical code. And as far as I’m concerned, evil might best be defined as the absence of just such a personal code.

Rather, Riddick merely does what he must to survive, and he’ll help you survive too…just so long as you don’t expect too much by way of hand-holding, and he doesn’t have to go back over old territory to get you…

Pitch Black also makes plain that although some people may view the anti-hero Riddick as a criminal or a kind of cave-man throw-back, he does not possess many of the deceitful traits of “modern” or “civilized” man.  This absence of modern vice is one quality that differentiates him from the other characters in the film.

Pitch Black is a stirring and effective cinematic work in terms of action, horror and science fiction, with solid creature effects, and impressive production design, yet the film thrives primarily because of Vin Diesel’s central performance, and the questions that the Riddick character raises about the nature of the human animal.

To misquote Woody Allen, the Riddick we meet as Pitch Black opens would never be part of any species that would have him as a member.  

He is not only a Carpenter-esque anti-hero, but an outsider in terms of the Establishment, or Authority.  Yet importantly, Riddick’s anti-social qualities are directly addressed in the film, and with surprising, unexpected results.

In the final analysis, what makes Pitch Black so emotionally satisfying a ride is that Riddick indeed finds a spiritual apotheosis that even he isn’t actively seeking.  The revelation that Riddick experiences about himself -- and his nature -- in the film’s final act proves the very quality that elevates Pitch Black beyond the “imitating John Carpenter”-stage of filmmaking.

In other words Pitch Black is not simply Carpenter-esque. Instead, it re-visits and re-examines the long-standing Carpenter thematic ethos, and then expands that philosophy in a new, original, and fascinating direction.  

Upon such innovations, franchises can be built.

“We’re all on the same march now.”

A deep space vessel carrying crew and passengers in stasis is badly damaged when the ship passes through a comet’s tail.   The ship’s docking pilot, Caroline Fry (Mitchell) panics upon awaking, and nearly jettisons the passenger module before her co-pilot, Owens (Simon Burke) prevents her from doing so. 

Instead, Fry manages a brilliant, if messy landing on barren planet.  Although the ship is pulped, the passengers survive the ordeal.

One of the survivors is Richard B. Riddick (Diesel), a dangerous criminal traveling in the custody of (an apparent) police officer named Johns (Cole Hauser).

Riddick warns the crash survivors -- including an Imam (Keith David), an impressionable boy, Jack (Rhiana Griffith), a tough-as-nails miner (Claudia Black), and an antiquities dealer (Lewis Fitzgerald) -- that they have greater problems to concern themselves with than his disposition, and his advice proves accurate. 

Fry and the others soon learn that the planet -- bathed in the light of three suns -- is about to undergo a once-every-two-decades eclipse that will render the entire surface dark for the foreseeable future.  Worse, ferocious winged alien carnivores will break free from subterranean slumber when the eclipse begins.  And these predators are very, very hungry.  

Fortunately, there is a possible escape route. An abandoned geology station and an escape skiff are stationed across a valley of very large animal carcasses. 

When the lights go out, Frye recruits Riddick -- who can see in the dark thanks to an ocular “shine” job -- to lead them on a pilgrimage to salvation.

“I absolutely believe in God, and I absolutely hate the Fucker.”

Set in a far future age of technological wonders such as deep space travel and suspended animation, Pitch Black establishes a very intriguing contrast between Riddick and his fellow man.  As the film opens, Riddick narrates…from cryo-sleep.  He notifies the audience that the human brain normally shuts down in such stasis, save for the primitive or “animal side.”

 “No wonder, I’m still awake,” he quips.

This is a vital distinction. Riddick is identified from square one in Pitch Black as a throw-back, as an “animal” compared to civilized man.  And so while he is considered dangerous, Riddick possesses none of the vices of “modern” humanity. He isn't a creature of the film's present, but man's uncivilized past.

By contrast, the other survivors are very "human" in terms of foibles.  Fry experiences a bout of panic and cowardice, and nearly kills all her ship-mates before overcoming it.  Johns is a Morphine-addicted, deceitful man who lies about his true nature and position.   Jack also hides behind a lie (about his/her sex…).  The miner, Sharon, meanwhile, beats Riddick viciously with no evidence of his guilt or complicity in another man’s death (leading us back to the evil of acting from ignorance).  The Antiquities Dealer is flawed and base too: caustic, cynical and alcoholic.  He is more concerned with what things cost than with the lives of the people around him.  

And the Imam?  I'll get to him in a minute.

How ironic that Riddick is considered “evil” by his fellow man when the other characters in Pitch Black so clearly showcase several aspects of evil.  Instead, Riddick is evil only in the sense that the devouring flying piranhas are evil: he acts according to his biological nature, and his instincts.  His animal brand of viciousness seems much more innocuous (and organic...) than the flaws and vices seen in the “civilized” characters with whom he interacts. 

The point, I believe, is that in a situation involving life and death, and survival of the fittest the “primitive” (Riddick) is equipped to survive tumult, whereas the more evolved characters, with their more “advanced” foibles are not. 

But Pitch Black is truly a clever endeavor because the film’s final act pulls the carpet out from under Riddick, and out from under the audience too.  It turns out this whole “arena” has not been about survival of the fittest at all, but something else entirely.  

Fry, in her effort to redeem herself (for her cowardice), calls out Riddick for believing that survival is paramount.  She shames him, and makes him see that the real game is not survival, but how one survives. She shows him a higher ideal, and she acts on that ideal...for him.

Fry gives up her life in the effort to save Riddick, and her action --- placing his life above her own-- makes Riddick grow, whether he wants to or not.  “Not for me!” Riddick shouts with indignation, an exclamation suggesting that he would rather die an animal than live by the grace of another person’s sacrifice.  But now Riddick can’t do that.  He must earn the days Fry has given him back.  There’s a Christian or spiritual aspect to this apotheosis, to this reckoning in the film, and one worthy of examination.

According to Scripture, Christ “died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves,” and these words, indeed, are a mirror for Fry’s act of sacrifice.  Her death forces Riddick to live for something beyond mere survival, beyond mere self-interest, in other words.

This point is made clear in the film’s closing dialogue, wherein Riddick is asked what the survivors should say if police ask them what happened to the criminal on the planet surface.   

"Tell 'em Riddick's dead. He died somewhere on that planet," he declares. 

This is not Riddick being cute or witty.  This is not Riddick playing with words.  This is truth.  The Riddick that was before…is gone.  The Riddick that Fry’s sacrifice gave birth to in his stead is the one who pilots the skiff to the stars.  He is changed by his experience, and that is the very last thing even Riddick himself would have expected.  From a certain, overarching perspective, Pitch Black is a very spiritual journey, one in which a man falls from the Heavens, reckons with Hell and demons on the planet surface, finds himself and his faith, and returns to the stars "re-born."

Every time I watch Pitch Black, I am reminded of an old bromide about character.  You’ve heard it a million times, I know.  Character is what you have (or don’t have) when no one is watching you.  Pitch Black modifies that idea a bit, I think.  Character is what you have in the dark, when no one can see you.   

The whole movie -- in a world of pitch black -- is about who really possesses “human” character, and who does not.  In the end, Johns doesn’t have good character, but Riddick surely does.  The planet surface may be bathed in “lasting darkness” but at the end of the film, a new Riddick emerges to leave that darkness behind.  The part of him that “wants to rejoin the human race,” in Fry’s words, finds outlet.  Visually, we see this when Riddick brings light to the planet surface -- and the photo-phobic monsters -- with the ship’s skiff. 

Let there be light?

All kidding aside, Pitch Black is a deeply spiritual film, even down to its subplots.  In particular, the Imam’s story -- of losing three adopted sons one after the other -- mirrors the Book of Job.  

The Imam loses one boy after the other in short, devastating order, and must -- like Job before him -- wonder why the righteous are made to suffer.  The answer is, I believe, that though the Imam prays and shows all the requisite outward signs of faith, he -- like his modern brethren -- is flawed, at least until he loses everything.  He is one of the people, after all, who counsels Fry not to save Riddick, but to leave the planet without him.  The trials that the Imam undergoes -- reflective of Job’s -- suggest that he must transcend from being superficially righteous to legitimately so.  

As a side-bar here, I should note too that the Imam is played by Keith David, a John Carpenter regular who appeared in The Thing (1982) and They Live (1988).  He is an actor of powerful voice, and imposing physicality, and is often utilized in Carpenter films as a man who is worthy of great respect, even from the central protagonist.  

That is ultimately the Imam's role here.  One of the best scenes in Pitch Black involves Riddick and the Imam discussing faith and God.  Imam preaches belief at a time of doubt and crisis, but Riddick turns the value of belief around on the man of God. He believes all right, but Riddick hates God for making his life what it is.  It's a dark moment, but an appropriate "low point" for Riddick before he is re-born at the denouement, following Fry's sacrifice. 

I began this review by comparing Pitch Black to the John Carpenter film canon.  The Carpenter films, which I love and admire deeply, often climax with the hero reinforcing his own established or standing view of authority and civilization.  Snake plunges the world into darkness (twice, really…) Nada destroys the alien signal in They Live, and so on.

But Riddick in Pitch Black -- the Carpenter-ian anti-hero -- gets thrown the curve-ball of a redemption he didn’t want, and didn’t’ seek. He is forced to countenance the idea that he had it all wrong, and that his previous world-view may have been limited in some way.  Frye forced him to grow. 

This "evolutionary" aspect of Pitch Black is commendable because it plays as the first step of Riddick’s heroic journey across a film trilogy, and allows for the character to grow and develop through his ensuing cinematic adventures.  But the redemption angle is also valuable because it utilizes Carpenter's canon as a basis for its ideas, and then spins them off in a new and unexpected direction.

Next Tuesday we see where that direction takes the franchise: The Chronicles of Riddick (2004).  And this Thursday (the 9th), I'll be posting an essay that more exhaustively details the similarities between Riddick and John Carpenter protagonists.