Where Did It Come From? How Did It Get Here? WHAT IS IT?
Given the vastness of the observable space, with potentially habitable rocky planets like ours being spotted ever more frequently by astronomers, it seems increasingly likely that we are not the only intelligent beings in the universe. So, one day, we should not be too surprised to receive extraterrestrial visitors. The big question is whether the intentions of such visitors would be friendly or hostile.
Many (probably most) fictional treatments of alien visitation assume hostile intent: conflict breeds action, and action sells cinema tickets. So most aliens encountered in movies are of the bug-eyed monster variety, whereas the kind of benevolent visitors epitomised in Steven Spielberg's Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) and E.T. (1982) are comparatively rare.
Despite being released in 1951, six decades ago this year, The Thing From Another World retains its interest in large part because it locates the two conflicting outlooks on alien visitors, optimistic and pessimistic, within two communities of professionals, scientists and military personnel. The scientists, not surprisingly, put highest value on the potential for gaining knowledge. Equally unsurprisingly, the military assign higher value to security concerns. The stage is set for a credible conflict of interest.
The main action takes place at a remote Arctic outpost, where a small group of scientists and a small group of US Air Force personnel investigate a mysterious crash landing on the ice. The remoteness of the location and a long-lasting blizzard combine to block radio communication and to prevent anyone physically entering or leaving the area, effectively isolating the groups from the rest of the world and allowing the action to unfold in microcosm. The people on the ground are forced to be entirely responsible for their own decisions.
As for special physical effects, these are used sparingly. The main strategy, pioneered by Jacques Tourneur in Cat People (1942), according to Wikipedia, and adopted subsequently by Steven Spielberg in Jaws (1975) and Ridley Scott in Alien (1979), to name but two, is that of limiting audience access to detailed views of the "monster" until near the end of the film, if at all. Instead, the use of darkness, shadows and backlighting to create stark but simplified silhouettes, the use of sounds suggesting actions taking place off-screen, the use of character reaction shots, all force the audience to fill in the blanks with their own imagination, producing a result superior to almost any visual effect.
There is a wonderful scene at the crash site, where only a curved black fin emerging above the ice betrays the presence of a submerged spacecraft, and the audience has to take on trust the excited descriptions of the men milling about on the surface. Then, at the orders of Doctor Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite), the chief scientist, the men spread out and stand above the edges of the craft, and with no special effects at all, the size and shape of the craft is perfectly illustrated and the audience's imagination given full rein to fill in the missing details. Throughout, the black and white cinematography is crisp and beautiful.
According to John Carpenter, director of the 1982 re-make "The Thing", quoted in Wikipedia, it was Howard Hawks, billed as the film's producer, who really directed the film. Comparing this film to Hawks' Only Angels Have Wings (1939), a film also about pilots, I can well believe it. As evidence, Carpenter cites the signature male camaraderie amongst the Air Force personnel, extending even to the visiting reporter but excluding the scientists, none of whom seem like "regular" joes. Another similarity is the rapid-fire naturalistic dialogue characteristic of Hawks' work, such as the screwball comedy Bringing Up Baby (1938).
I read somewhere that Hawks, master of the male-female romantic leads combo, had to wait decades for the arrival of its ultimate incarnation, Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, in To Have and To Have Not (1944) and The Big Sleep (1946). In The Thing From Another World, the Air Force captain and the scientist's assistant are not Bogie and Bacall, but the female lead, Margaret Sheridan, lights up the screen in her few big scenes, in particular, her introductory scene. If the male lead, Kenneth Tobey, fine but unremarkable, had been someone with more charisma, Jimmy Stewart, say, or Glenn Ford, it would have lifted the film to great heights.
Posted using Blogo from my MacBook Pro
Amendments: Removed link to Wikipedia-sourced image. Added ranking image.
