The Thing-a-Thon: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: "The Adversary" (June 19, 1995)

Stardate 48959.1

Benjamin Sisko (Avery Brooks), commanding officer of Deep Space Nine in the Bajoran Sector, is promoted to the rank of Captain. His first mission is given him by a visiting Starfleet admiral: Krajensky (Lawrence Pressman).

Specficially, Captain Sisko is to take the U.S.S. Defiant through the wormhole to the Gamma Quadrant, and show the flag of the Federation there since the Tzankethi have recently experienced a coup.

En route to Tzankethi space, however, the Defiant is sabotaged. Chief O’Brien (Colm Meaney) discovers strange tendrils growing through the ship’s systems, sabotaging the vessel. Worse, the tendrils are protected by force fields and can’t be removed.

Soon it becomes apparent that a Changeling is aboard the ship, sabotaging systems and appearing to be one of the crew. 

Dax (Terry Farrell) suggests scanning all those aboard for Tetrion particles, since the Changeling would have been near the warp core of the ship, during some sabotage.

Later, a blood test is instituted to help smoke out the changeling before the Defiant’s presence causes a war in Tzankethi space, and weakens the Federation.  

Odo (Rene Auberjonois), meanwhile, worries that he may have to kill one of his own people.

But no changeling has never murdered another.

How do I know that The Thing (1982) was on the minds of those producing Star Trek: Deep Space Nine (1993 – 1999) through the Dominion War arc of the program’s last three season? 

Well, it was during this multi-season story-line that a secret branch of Starfleet called Section 31 was introduced to the franchise.

And “31,” of course, is the number of the Outpost in John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982). 

The recurrence of that number is no coincidence. Section 31 in Starfleet is brought in as a response to shape-shifting aliens, Changelings, just as Outpost 31 is Earth’s first line of defense in the 1982 horror classic.

“The Adversary,” though clearly a Star Trek story in nature, adopts several key elements from Campbell’s story, and later film adaptations.  

First, we still have an isolated location as the central setting, in this case a small starship in deep space, rather than the Antarctic. 

Secondly, we have the (powerful) element of paranoia.  No one aboard the Defiant can trust anybody else once it is known a Changeling is aboard. For example, O’Brien believes he sees Bashir (Alexander Siddig) at a key control panel in the Jeffries Tubes, but doesn’t want to condemn his friend as a saboteur, or worse, a monster.

Sadly, the identity of the changeling is pretty obvious throughout the story: the episode’s biggest guest-star, and only non-regular character featured so prominently: Pressman’s Admiral Krajensky.

Much more significantly, “The Adversary” proposes a “Thing Detector” that is familiar to all fans of the film: a blood test.  

A Changeling’s blood is not like human blood, and so Bashir can detect the difference between the life-forms by administering one. In a clever twist on this plot element straight from “Who Goes There,” Bashir -- the man doing the testing -- is actually the alien, and manipulating the results.

The "Thing Detector" blood test recurs on Deep Space Nine in later episodes. General Martok demands that Sisko and Kira (Nana Visitor) submit to such a test in “The Way of the Warrior,” and brings a very sharp Klingon knife along as the tool to get it done.

Despite the recurrence of this test, The Changelings, or shape-shifters of Star Trek, are, however, somewhat different from the monster of The Thing. Though they can perfectly duplicate any life-form, the Changelings don’t want to be “solids” if they have a choice. They outright deride solids, actually.  Unlike The Thing, they aren’t content to scurry and hide. They want to rule their Empire, and subjugate solids.

This episode also boasts merit for poor Odo's plot-line. The tortured character understands his duty: to prevent the changeling from starting a war. But to stop one of his own kind means killing him.  That is something Odo does not want to do.

All in all, it is incredible to consider that The Thing (1982) was savaged by critics in the 1980’s, and yet within ten or eleven years of the film's release, two pop-culture power-houses, Star Trek, and The X-Files, were paying homage to the film in a very significant way.

The Thing-a-Thon: The X-Files: "Ice" (1993)

The X-Files episode “Ice,” which first aired on November 5, 1993, is a sterling tribute to one of the science fiction genre’s greatest short stories: Who Goes There? (1938) by John W. Campbell.  

As I wrote about earlier in the week, that novella is set in Antarctica and involves a group of scientists who discover an alien ship and pilot that have been trapped frozen in the ice for twenty million years.  When thawed out, the extra-terrestrial pilot is revealed as a dangerous shape-shifter, one who can “hide” in human and other biological forms. 

In the end, the alien invader is barely stopped (with just a half-hour to spare…) before it can escape isolation and reach (and contaminate...) the rest of Earth’s population.

“Ice,” written by James Wong and Glen Morgan and directed by David Nutter, remains a notable variation on the Campbell theme, one bolstered by some unique, even trademark X-Files twists.  

In fact, this episode might be Exhibit A in terms of my theory about the Chris Carter series as a whole; that it deliberately re-purposes commonly told tales in the genre and then imbues them with new meaning and relevance for the 1990's.

From Campbell’s source material to "Ice" we see a similar location (an ice-bound installation), a similar threat (an alien life-form) and even the presence of a dog as an infection vector.  

But “Ice,” uniquely, develops in an original fashion because in The Thing, for example, there aren't many close relationships or friendships on the line.

Instead, the story has been interpreted frequently as a comment on man’s alienation from his fellow man.   

Nobody trusted anybody in John Carpenter's The Thing because nobody really liked or even knew anybody else. Hidden inside a man's skin, the Thing was indistinguishable from man.  

What does that say about man?

It's alive!

The X-Files deliberately explodes that artistic conceit by landing two sets of dedicated partners or allies into the paranoia blender and then diagramming the manner in which close-relationships contend with the possibility of individual infection. The responses to this challenge are either burgeoning independence (Scully) or total abandonment of personal will in favor of the stronger personality’s will and desire (Da Silva). 

In a way, then, The X-Files amplifies the horror of The Thing.  It’s one thing to face a shape-shifter in a battle to the death when there is no one you really care for to worry about on the battlefield.  But in “Ice,” Mulder and Scully have one another to fight for, and must face the very real possibility that one of them could die or be permanently infected.  They are more "connected" individuals than many we meet in various versions of the Campbell story.

Are you who you are?

I am who I am.

In “Ice,” Mulder (David Duchovny) and Scully (Gillian Anderson) join a team of scientists including Dr. Hodge (Xander Berkeley), Dr. Da Silva (Felicity Huffman), and Dr. Murphy (Steve Hytner) to investigate the deaths of a government research team at a base in Alaska.  

The team had been digging deep down into an icy shelf believed to be a prehistoric meteor impact.  Without warning, however, the members of the expedition began murdering one another, reciting the mantra “we are not who we are.”

This phrase relates to the shape-shifting ability of the Thing, in a way. People are not who they appear to be.

After a helicopter pilot named Bear (Jeff Kober) flies the team to Alaska, Mulder and Scully discover that the previous team had found core samples containing strange alien worms frozen in the ice…from 250,000 years earlier. 

At least some of these worms have thawed out in the base, and discovered that human beings make for perfect hosts. 

While living on the excretions of the hypothalamus, these parasites also cause extreme paranoia and aggression in their prey….

Who do you trust?

An almost unbearably claustrophobic and tense hour, “Ice” is a deliberate nod to Who Goes There? and The Thing, but also a tale, ultimately, about territoriality. 

The episode’s climax reveals that two worms cannot exist in the same host…or they will kill each other.  

Similarly, the episode-long tension between Mulder and Hodge -- each looking to assert leadership -- nearly imperils everyone.   Both men believe they are right in their belief-system and engage in a kind of paranoid “pissing” contest, trying to swing the allegiances of the other team-members to their viewpoint. 

There’s even an amusing scene here where the men must strip down naked to check each other for signs of parasitic infection.  Mulder jokingly reminds everyone that they are in the Arctic, a not so-subtle joke about penis size.

But joke or no joke, the matter of which man possesses the “biggest dick” -- to state it inelegantly -- is  a sub-text in this particular tale.  Once you make the thematic connection, it’s intriguing to see how the “territoriality” theme mirrors the infection theme.  A terrified Bear asserts control of the situation early on, since he is the only person capable of flying the plane, and he stakes out a command position early.  Simultaneously, he is the first infected by the alien organism.   Power and infection are definitively linked.

Then, after Bear dies, the battle of wills moves over to Hodge and Mulder.  Soon, nobody is certain which of them, if either, is infected. In the end, we learn that neither man was infected, only that each was driven (by adrenaline? by testosterone? by ego? by all three?) to attempt to take charge of the situation. 

Why were they so aggressive, if neither was actually infected?  Is it simply the human condition?

Why can't these two get along?

Why can't Mulder and Hodge?

Just remember, we're in the Arctic...

The underlying social commentary, then, seems to concern man's capacity for self-destruction, particularly if he doesn't get his way. This quality impacts even the usually sensible (and sensitive) Mulder. What complicates this issue of territoriality, and what is explored rather fully in “Ice” is the notion of allies, friends and subordinates in such a dynamic.

Dr. Da Silva is Hodge’s ally, but treated like a subordinate, and Scully is Mulder’s ally and equal.  Neither woman is truly impartial or on the side-lines,  but Hodge bullies Da Silva to see things his way, and acts in a borderline abusive fashion in his treatment of her; thus keeping her in line.

Scully -- recognizing the weight of evidence against Mulder at one point -- backs Hodge over her partner.  She never gives up on Mulder, and finds way to protect him, but she is able to weigh the facts…and the facts seem to go against Mulder's perspective.

Unlike Da Silva, however, Scully is not cowed into making a decision by either Mulder or Hodge.  Instead, she studies the available facts and makes a logical decision, to Mulder’s dismay, since her choice doesn’t favor him in the short term.  Scully thus becomes the de facto leader because she is able to bridge the gap between parties.

Scully also must face the difficult possibility that Mulder, because of infection, has become a murderer and a psychopath.  One thing I love about The X-Files is that this possibility doesn’t impact Scully’s affection, feelings, or loyalty for Mulder.  She wants to protect him and wants to heal him, but to do that, she must first make certain he doesn't represent a danger to everyone. She uses science and wisdom to do so, again showcasing her finest human qualities.

Given all this dramatic material, it’s probably fair to state that what “Ice” truly involves is relationship dynamics in a difficult situation, where no clear chain of command can be respected or even determined.  

Going further, "Ice" involves the way that men sometimes behave in a crisis. Who do you choose to follow?  Why does someone, like Mulder, choose to lead?  

The elegant quality of this thematic dynamic is, as noted above, that it mirrors so beautifully the nature of the aliens  in he episode.  There can’t be two big worms (another phallic symbol…) vying for the same “command” post, or else hostility, anger, and violence will result.

Location plays a crucial role in “Ice’s” success as drama and as horror.  The episode feels like a pressure-cooker because after the first act, it never leaves the claustrophobic outpost interiors.  All versions of “Who Goes There?” are set in icy environments, and that sets up an imposing, endless sense of isolation.  Not only is there terror inside the various “Thing” outposts, but terror outside as well.  

The frozen environment will kill you too, just not as quickly as an alien invader.  

In other words, a person can’t just run outside and catch a bus to escape. The Arctic or Antarctic installation in all these production is thus a trap within a trap. Escape is simply not possible. The "monster" must be reckoned with, no delay, no negotiating.

As a title (and phsyical substance...) “Ice” is also a contrast or counter-point to the hot, passionate, aggressive behavior we witness among the dramatis personae here.  It may be well below zero outside the outpost, but inside temperatures and tempers continue to rise.

In the final analysis, "Ice" succeeds because it develops the relationship between Mulder and Scully in a clever way, by landing them in, essentially, The Thing's story. The episode intelligently re-configures this beloved horror standard, and even offers a healthy dose of social critique.  For the seventh episode of a series' first season, such depth is simply astounding.

The Thing-a-Thon: Doctor Who: "The Seeds of Doom" (1976)

In Antarctica Camp 3, several scientists -- Moberly (Michael McStay), Winlett (John Gleeson), and Stevenson (Hubert Rees) -- excavate from the ice a mysterious vegetable pod.

Found at a layer that indicates it is more than 20,000 years old, this vegetable pod becomes of interest to the World Ecology Bureau in London. 

The Bureau contacts UNIT, and sends the Doctor (Tom Baker), and Sarah Jane (Elisabeth Sladen) to Antarctica to investigate it.

The Doctor determines the pod originated not on Earth, but a distant planet, and orders the scientists to keep it well-guarded until his arrival. His orders are disobeyed, however, and one of the scientists is attacked by the pod and assimilated it by it. The pod is actually a malevolent alien life-form called a Krynoid.

A “galactic weed,” the Krynoid travels the universe dispersing seeds to habitable planets, and then destroying all animal life there. Now it is a race against time: can the Doctor stop the Krynoid from spreading before it takes over all plant life on Earth?

A millionaire and plant-lover named Harrison Chase (Tony Beckley), is secretly working against the Time Lord to help an adult Krynoid germinate and rule our world.

The thirteenth season of classic Doctor Who (1963-1989) culminated with “The Seeds of Doom,” a serial from Robert Banks Stewart that is clearly inspired both by John Campbell’s “Who Goes There?” and the 1951 film, The Thing.  The (excellent) narrative re-purposes settings and characters from the history of The Thing productions and literary works.

As is the case in both “Who Goes There” and The Thing, an alien life-form that is buried in the ice (whether at Antarctica, or the North Pole, like the Hawks/Nyby film), is unearthed here, revealing an alien menace. 

Similarly, the Krynoid is plant or vegetable-based life in “The Seeds of Doom,” and as you may recall, the Thing (James Arness) in the fifties film is characterized as an “intellectual carrot” made of vegetable matter.

Mind boggling…

It’s intriguing how “The Seeds of Doom” adopts different aspects of The Thing’s narrative across the decades. From the novella, we get here the idea of an evil contaminating our life form and altering the shape of a human being, which is then able to infect others similarly.  And, the larger threat is of a new and inimical life-form taking over the Earth, eliminating the human race in the process.  In the case of this Doctor Who tale, the Krynoid escapes Antarctica, and gets to Great Britain, where things get out of hand quickly.

From the 1950's film, primarily, “The Seeds of Doom” takes the aforementioned nature of the monster (vegetable rather than animal), and the idea of a possibly-mad ally helping it along.  In the movie, Dr. Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) -- whether from lack of sleep, bad judgement, or poor character -- attempts to propagate a “Thing” garden at the base, and preserve the “wise” being (despite its readily obvious violent qualities). Here, Harrison Chase, an eccentric millionaire, chooses intelligent plant life over his own species, and plays, essentially, the same role in the drama. He is the turncoat to his own species, deluded about what role he would play in the “New Order.”

“The Seeds of Doom” has always been one of my favorite Doctor Who serials of the Tom Baker era. The first sections, set in Antarctica are claustrophobic and terrifying, and the nature of the Krynoid threat is well-established.  For a low-budget show, some of the effects still manage to be creepy and disgusting.

Meanwhile, the last chapters of the serial -- with an adult Krynoid towering over Chase’s mansion, and harnessing the power the Earth’s vegetation -- plays like some gonzo (and thoroughly enjoyable) kaiju movie.

One other element worthy of discussion here involves the presence of the Doctor, the protagonist. In other versions of The Thing, characters such as McReady/MacReady, Kate Lloyd, or Pat Hendry have to play “catch-up” to understand the situation and the nature of the threat the Earth faces.

In “The Seeds of Doom,” the Doctor -- with all of his knowledge of time, space, and alien life-forms -- has an advantage they didn’t. He knows all about the nemesis he must contend with, and is ready for battle, almost from the beginning.

The Thing-a-Thon: "The Things" (2011)

“The Things” is a short story (and Hugo Award Nominee) from author Peter Watts. The Shirley Jackson Award-winning story is a brilliant, unconventional “re-imagining” of the specific events of John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982); one told from the perspective of The Thing itself.

The appeal of this approach is obvious. John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982), for all its brilliance, never delved into the reasons or motives behind the Thing’s presence on Earth, or its seemingly malevolent behavior towards humans.

Watts’ story suggests that the Thing is not a monster, nor malevolent at all…just a form of life quite different from humanity.

And it is highly intelligent.  Even…sensitive.

The story’s stunning (and controversial) last line finds the emotionally-damaged Thing recommitting itself to the assimilation of Earth. The last line is violent in concept, but also suggestive of the fact that the alien simply doesn’t understand our form of life any better than we understand its form of life. The chasm between species is too great to successfully navigate.

“The Things” tells the story of the The Thing all over again, giving us a blow-by-blow of each human (Norris, Palmer, Childs, etc.) assimilated by the Thing, and even gives us a new twist on the 1982 film’s ambiguous ending. Here, we see that Childs is actually a Thing, and has been for some time. For years, audiences have wondered if MacReady was a Thing, if Childs was a thing, or they were both human.

Now we have an answer.

But overall, the story carries remarkable value for its “alien” (but not “evil”) perspective, thereby fostering an understanding that those two words are quite different. The Thing, we learn, considers assimilation “communion,” a word suggesting union and synthesis, not destruction, and it even refers to itself as “an explorer, an ambassador, a missionary” who “spread across the universe” and has encountered “countless” worlds, offering each communion.

Given its high-minded understanding of itself and its role, it is not a surprise that the Thing is emotionally hurt -- and feels attacked -- by human behaviors.  The humans keep trying to burn it, to murder it. On this world, the Thing comes to understand “adaptation is provocation; adaptation is incitement to violence.”  Even as it reckons with this idea, the Thing notes that it feels it is an “obscenity” for life-forms to remain in one form for long.

So while it seeks understanding for its way of life, at the same time it is incapable of understanding our form of life. Intercultural communication is exceedingly difficult.

The gift of Watts’ writing is that his short story makes the horrifying tale of The Thing seem more like a tragedy than a horror movie. Intelligent beings, on each side of the chasm, can’t empathize with one another, or their ways.

Intriguingly, the Thing of the story also comes across as proud of its history, and its identity. It notes that it still possesses “the templates of a thousand worlds,” and that they still “resonate” in its flesh. 

Such thoughts back up its belief that it is an explorer, a pioneer.

The basic idea of this story is the gulf between a human understanding of life, and the alien’s. The Thing sees itself as giving humans a great gift, and is baffled and hurt that the humans don’t feel the same way. “Offered the greater whole, they see loss,” it thinks, baffled. “Offered communion, they see extinction.”

Meanwhile, we look at The Thing, and see a monster, not an ambassador, not an explorer.

We also get an insight into what happens to people assimilated by The Thing. Not all of them even realize they aren’t human anymore. The Thing notes that “the best forgeries are the ones who’ve forgotten they aren’t real.”  This line helps to explore a gap in the movie. Many audiences and fans have wondered if a perfect replica of a human knows that it isn’t human. Apparently, if we take this story’s word for it, some things don’t know the difference between their human selves and their “perfected” version.

The great gift of this particular story is that author Watts had done a tremendous amount of careful, imaginative work to imagine how all the events of The Thing could occur just as we saw them happen in the Carpenter film, but, at the same time, be interpreted in a completely different way. The same tale; new viewpoint.

The story’s ending is admittedly a stumbling point for some readers. The Thing observes that it has offered the “savages” of Earth “salvation,” but they failed to embrace it. In response, the Thing suggests it will just have to “rape” them into seeing the true way.

In this way, the Thing seems like a religious zealot, or crusader, enforcing its viewpoint through (knowing) violence.

And certainly, earlier points in the story -- concerning Childs -- set-up the “rape” nomenclature in a way that The Thing might understand it. 

But the whole story “humanizes” the Thing, revealing it to be a being of deep emotions and intelligence, until the denouement, which suggests it is doubling down on violence and warfare against the humans, when those things were never its goals.

For some, this is an unsatisfying conclusion. How would a creature that speaks in words of “salvation” and “communion,” even conceive of rape?

The answer arises in what the Thing does. It assimilates humans, their memories, and their ideas. I would suggest that the last line in “The Things” demonstrates the being’s true resilience, it’s total assimilation of human concepts, even as it re-doubles its efforts to share itself with others.  It is starting to think human concepts, in human terms.

I love stories that ask me to challenge my beliefs, or ask me to see beloved characters in a new or different light. “The Things” accomplishes this task with great aplomb, and casts a whole new light one of my all-time favorite movies. It’s an incredible and highly believable twist on a classic tale. It’s a perfect book-end to Carpenter’s film and indeed, to Campbell’s original novella, “Who Goes There?”

The Thing-a-Thon: The Thing from Another World (Dark Horse Comics; 1992)

In 1992, Dark Horse Comics continued the story of John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982) in several comic-book installments.  This retrospective post gazes at the first two issues of that revival, titled The Thing from Another World (#1 and #2).  The story was penned by Chuck Pfarrer, and the stunning art is by John Higgins.

The first two-part story was followed up, in short order, by a three-part series, Climate of Fear (also published in 1992).

The first two comics, however, commence a story that begins a mere 24 hours after the film’s end. The first frames of the comic reveal vistas of brutal Antarctica, and the writing establishes that “People will tell you the wind here will make you insane. That it will strip from you the things which make you human. Hope. Reason. And compassion.”

Following this interlude, MacReady -- suffering from frost-bite -- is taken to the Misaki Maru, a whaling vessel out of Okuska, by an apparently-human Childs. Childs leaves him there to receive medical attention, while he returns to Outpost 31 to seek out other survivors.

MacReady is delirious when he first awakes aboard ship, and gives himself a blood-test to prove to himself that he is not a Thing. Then he steals a helicopter from the ship’s deck and goes in search of Childs.

Instead, at the camp, he finds the corpse of Nauls (whose fate was not actually determined in the film…), and a still-living thing-creature. After he destroys it, MacReady is captured by a Navy Seal team under the command of Lt. Commander Les Erskine, who suspects he killed his camp-mates.

Erskine’s men fell prey to the Thing, and issue #1 ends with the return of Childs, who leads MacReady and Erskine to the Argetine Camp: Campo Del Sur.

Issue #2 of the series finds Childs and MacReady reunited, and learning that Erskine is a thing too. Worse, he has left the camp for an extraction point by the U.S. Navy, which has sent a submarine to Antarctica.

Childs and MacReady board the submarine, and so does the Thing, and Childs sacrifices himself and the vessel to kill Erskine. 

The series ends on a cliffhanger, as MacReady surfaces, cold and wet, on a chunk of ice, failing to stay conscious.

Die-hard fans of John Carpenter’s The Thing waited a decade for a continuation of the tale of MacReady and Childs, and this Dark Horse Comic follow-upwas welcomed with open arms.

The comic-book medium also promised an opening-up of the storyline, with imagery that a live-action sequel likely would be unable to afford. The comics live up to this promise, with some comic-frames depicting a submarine conning tower breaking through the ice, and others depicting the downing of a helicopter in flight.  The Thing’s forms were also an area of the story where comics permitted bigger and better visuals (with less money).

Pfarrer’s story demonstrates a high-degree of fidelity for the Carpenter film, and answer some intriguing questions. The first question involves Childs, as we see him at the end of the picture.

Is he Man or Thing?

The suspense regarding that particular question stretches out through the first issue of this comic series, and is resolved in the second issue. Pfarrer comes up with an answer opposite from the one imagined by Peter Watts in his award-winning story, “The Things.” In this case, Childs is not a Thing.

The story also clears up Nauls’ disappearance by having MacReady, upon return to the camp, discovering his corpse. Apparently the Thing killed him.

But the most intriguing aspect of the tale comes early, as MacReady gives himself the blood test to determine if he has been “contaminated” by the Thing.  Why would he do this unless MacReady (and the writer) suspect that the forgeries of human individuals believe they are still the original entity, not a Thing?

If this is so, it means that an assimilated organism possesses memory and identity (and soul?) identical to the original.  This has long been one of the primary metaphysical questions of the franchise. If a Thing copies you completely and perfectly, is the copy still you?

Less promising than these scenes are the assimilation scenes in the comics. There seems to be no rhyme or reason as to who is “taken” by the Thing, once the Navy Seal team arrives. We know from issue #2 that Erskine and two of his men are “Things,” but the story never makes it clear precisely when the replacement occurs (or how it occurs through gloves, and other impediments).

We saw in John Carpenter’s The Thing that the alien needs a little bit of privacy to undertake the assimilation process. We see a dog-thing seek out Norris, alone in his room (in silhouette), deliberately choosing the human when he was devoid of company. And the Bennings thing is alone during the assimilation process too, until Windows unexpectedly walks in on him.  Based on the comic-book, it doesn’t see that Erskine or his men are ever alone long enough -- or even out of sight of MacReady -- for the violent, clothes-ripping process to occur.

Also, the comic series, as depicted in these two issues, becomes a bit of a mindless run-around, good characterization for ever-changing locales (from boat, to camp, to snow, to Argentine Base, to sub), with MacReady nearby at every outbreak of the monster.  The story-line very soon develops a repetitive, familiar approach to the story. MacReady arrives somewhere new (usually a very colorful or interesting locale), and then the Thing pops up and attacked.  It is burned, and MacReady moves on, to a new location, where the Thing pops up, and is burned.

And on and on.

MacReady’s character comes across off very strongly in the comic, but I’m not certain the story gets the surly Childs right. He is characterized almost entirely of his selflessness in these issues.

First he saves MacReady’s life.

Then he goes back to the camp to see if any of his former comrades are alive.

Then he rescues MacReady and Erskine.

Then he sacrifices his life to take out the Thing, aboard the submerged sub. 

Based on the Childs we met in the Carpenter film, I’m not sure he would undertake so many dangerous, self-less acts, in such short order, or without some considerable grumbling. I suppose that Childs is characterized this way so all his actions are second-guessed, and we are must continue to wonder if he is himself, or the Thing.

The art-work in this revival is powerful, and I especially like the frames of the Thing, a tentacle, quavering entity.  The likeness for Russell is strong, but I would have preferred some more close-ups, to so foster deeper identification with the characters.

In 1992, it was fantastic to get a sequel to John Carpenter’s The Thing, but today, perhaps, it’s fair to state I would have rather gotten a film, than this wholly passable (but not inspired) comic-book series.

The Thing-a-Thon: The Thing (2011)

Earlier today, I posted my review of John Carpenter's The Thing (1982), a film that rose phoenix-like from the ashes of box office and critical failure to discover a second life as a horror film masterpiece.

A prequel to Carpenter's  in The Thing, also titled The Thing (2011), is perhaps the greatest evidence that Carpenter's film is beloved and admired by a generation. 

Carpenter's iteration of the material failed rather dramatically at the box office in '82, and thirty years later, we got a continuation of the same material that touts, mainly, its fidelity to Carpenter's vision. That the prequel film exists at all is a validation of Carpenter's efforts thirty years ago, and the timeless qualities his film clearly possesses.

I must admit, I always hoped for a sequel to Carpenter's The Thing.  I would have preferred a continuation that featured Carpenter in the director's chair and Kurt Russell starring. I'm still baffled why that film was never made.  But Universal gave us this Thing instead, a movie that showcases the story of the (doomed) Norwegian camp which frees the Thing from its icy prison, and is promptly decimated by the hostile alien shape-shifter.

For many reasons, I expected to flat-out hate this prequel to The Thing.  For one thing, why tell us a story that we are already familiar with?  After all, we know how the Norwegian story ends, don't we?

Icicles and razor blades...

For another thing, why risk mucking up the The Thing universe with inconsistencies in a pre-established story? In the Carpenter version of The Thing, we met a kind of anti-heroic character, MacReady (Russell), possessed of considerable intelligence and deductive powers, who had to craft a defense against an implacable alien foe. MacReady did so with no preparation, based on speculation and a few inconclusive autopsies.  In difficult circumstances, he and his fellow Outpost 31 team members came up with a blood test to help identify the alien, and arrived at the conclusion that their base had to be quarantined, lest the Thing escape into the general population and assimilate all of mankind.  Alienated from one another, not even liking each other, these humans attempted to mount a defense.

Now, along comes The Thing (2011) from director Matthijs van Heijningen Jr., and the characters here -- arriving before MacReady in terms of movie chronology if not real life chronology -- devise a blood test to help identify the alien, and arrive at the conclusion that their base must be quarantined, lest the Thing escape into the general population and assimilate mankind. 

That this Norwegian team manages the same impressive feat, ahead of MacReady, a priori subtracts from MacReady's intelligence, resourcefulness, and heroism.  Now he's just the second in line figuring all this out, and his accomplishments seem less extraordinary.  He's just coming up with ideas Kate Lloyd, this film's protagonist, came up with first.

In other words, The Thing, by the very nature of the story, take away from the earlier franchise entry. Seeing the same story as The Thing, taking place before the Thing, makes The Thing (1982) seem, well, rather less than special, doesn't it?

The film's second and considerable mistake is to visualize the recruitment of Kate Lloyd at Columbia University, in America. Another reason for the Carpenter film's pervasive sense of isolation and alienation was the setting.  It was impossible to escape. 

Outpost 31 was alone, on an alien continent, as it were. 

No help, no communication, no visits to the comfy cozy American heartland...

But here, Norwegians discover the alien spaceship and corpse, and have time to recruit Kate in America. Then they fly her down to Antarctica, where she fits in almost immediately, and has very little trouble adapting to the intense cold or the desolate, snowbound environment.   

Again, the development of isolation and paranoia in a movie audience is aided by setting in the film in one locale and remaining locked there.  Visiting America in The Thing is a mood-breaker, an unnecessary escape valve that takes audiences away from the mood of terror and alienation.  Also, it raises questions.  If the Norwegians had time to go to America and recruit Kate (and bring her back), they also had time to notify the government of their amazing discovery.  I find it hard to believe Norway wouldn't insist on a military escort, given the mysteries involved in the discovery of an alien spaceship.  Instead, Norway leaves the investigation of an alien life form and vessel to a prissy scientist and some hulking Norwegian redneck-types.

The film's third mistake, I believe, is the first Thing attack.  It is rendered in very fake, very two-dimensional, very photo-unreal CGI. The scene takes place in a helicopter, and looks absolutely awful.

Now, many of the other Thing-outs in the film -- also CGI -- look significantly better than this initial one.

Generally, the effects look pretty good.  At the very least, they are effective.  But by introducing the Thing with a woefully bad effects sequence, the horrific nature of the alien is not conveyed as promptly or as effectively as it should be.  

If I had been making this film, I would have made absolutely certain that the first attack in the helicopter was staged and executed perfectly.  The resources necessary to make that happen should have been devoted to such an important moment.

Why? Movie-goers, and especially fans of the original, were waiting to see if CGI could deliver as effectively what Rob Bottin's practical effects delivered in 1982.  The effects in the new Thing, as they stand in this first scene, fail to reach that benchmark, and so disappointment ensues.  Not all the special effects in the film are this bad, but for the first "thing-out" to be a disaster bodes poorly for the remainder of the film.

Also, I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge that the new Thing never provides audiences a "thing-out" as memorable as Norris's chest-opening, arm-chomping, head-stretching, spider-leg-sprouting moment in Carpenter's film.  That sequence remains absolutely un-topped for pure, unadulterated what-the-fuckism.

 I don't know that such a moment can be topped, frankly, so perhaps this is an unfair criticism.  By the same token, we've all waited almost thirty years to see the inside of the Thing's saucer, and the depiction of it here, while undeniably competent, lacks any kind of inspiration or distinction.  Two days later, I don't remember much unique or interesting about it.  I contrast this with a film like Fire in the Sky (1993), where the interior of an alien ship was weird and unforgettable.

In general, this new Thing is also far less gory, drippy, wet and messy than Carpenter's film. We get one autopsy scene here, but relatively few bloody or gory inserts.  I mention this facet of the film because in my original review of The Thing (1982), I noted that Carpenter utilized such insert shots to broadcast the idea of the frailty or vulnerability of the flesh.  That idea is totally absent in the new version of The Thing.  Between the pristine, digital CGI and the general lack of blood and guts (and autopsy exams...) the new Thing is generally much less upsetting and far more mainstream in approach than the bracing 1982 film.

I find all of this disappointing, because The Thing (2011) is not some quick, cheap, or stupid knock-off.  There are actually quite a few things about the film I actually liked and appreciated. I have returned to it and watched it several times since 2011.

In some senses, this prequel does add to "Thing" lore substantially, and in interesting, thoughtful fashion. 

For instance, the blood test is devised and brought up by characters here, but never vetted.  Instead, in this Thing, humans can be detected...if they have tooth fillings.

In other words,  Kate determines that the Thing cannot reproduce inorganic matter, like tooth fillings or earrings.  A quick scan of each person's mouth can reveal whether they have fillings or not, and this particular scene -- though an obvious homage to Carpenter's classic blood-test scene -- works like gangbusters in developing tension.  In particular, you have to be very, very close to look inside someone's mouth, and the film makes the most out of that potentially dangerous proximity.

I also appreciated another scene in the film, in which Kate takes command of the Norwegian camp, and begins issuing orders about quarantining the premises.  She is met by another character, who appears sympathetic and offers to help her.  This character takes Kate to find some keys for the vehicles...into an isolated room...and is promptly revealed as The Thing. 

This is the kind of scene that must have occurred between characters at Outpost 31 in the original, but for reasons of building suspense and paranoia were not revealed on screen.  The Thing must use its advantage of looking like someone familiar to get another human alone...and then assimilate him or her.  It's rewarding and unique that this version of The Thing actually reveals how the alien attempts to ingratiate itself with another human, in hopes of replacing it.  And, of course, given her leadership role, Kate would logically be the Thing's primary target.

I also got a kick out of the way this prequel accounts for that two-faced, grimacing/smiling corpse discovered in Carpenter's The Thing. You remember...two creepy faces sharing an elongated, smirking mouth. 

Here, we see that creature born, and it's a nice, creepy bit of continuity.  And, finally, the new Thing reaches its apex of success and thrills as it winds around to the first shots of Carpenter's version, even reviving the Ennio Morricone score from the 1982 film. All these moments feature a nice quality of inevitability that feels hard-to-resist, especially for a long-time fan of Carpenter's film.

But for every nice, individual, unique moment (like a spontaneous performance of a Norwegian folk song) in The Thing (2011), there's another moment that feels like a compromise to preview focus groups.

For instance, Kate's final disposition is left ambiguous (perhaps in some kind of tribute to the ending of the Carpenter film), but her continued survival doesn't seem possible given what we saw in the 1982 film.  Therefore, the film's refusal to pin down her fate feels more like an opening for a sequel than an organic narrative moment. 

Similarly, I can't claim that this new film generates the same level of anxiety and paranoia that the original did.  In part this is because of the escape valve, leaving the scene in Antarctica for Columbia University. In part this is because we have a more diverse, "friendly" cast, now including the requisite lovely females. 

In part it may be because we never get a real sense of the cold outside the base.  Here, the characters almost never don the masks or head-gear that characters in the 1982 film did.  In that case, Carpenter wanted us to wonder what might be hidden beneath a snow mask or scarf.  Here, we almost never witness any obscured faces.  Even the language barrier (Norwegian vs. American) doesn't pay off as particularly suspenseful.  An exception: I found a scene with the American pilot cornered in a store room, backed into a corner as the thing approaches, pretty effective.

These days, we're used to horror film remakes or prequels that are uniformly dreadful (Don't Be Afraid of the Dark, j'accuse).  But The Thing (2011) is not a total loss, nor a fiasco. On the contrary. There are moments of interest and invention here, even if the final film falls far short of its much-admired model.

It is intriguing, however, to note that this version of The Thing does refer, at least tangentially to the Hawks/Nyby version. Here, the scientist Halvorsen is as wrong-headed and irritating as Carrington was.  So far, every iteration of the story has featured a scientist who was wrong-headed, or flat out crazy.  

There is an argument to be made, in fact, that The Thing (2011) is much like the titular monster.  The visuals, set-design and overall tone nicely ape John Carpenter's stellar 1982 work.

But underneath it all, we ultimately realize we're witnessing a (clever) imitation...a copy.