THE THING (1982, John Carpenter)

As a remake of Howard Hawks' 1950s sci-fi B-movie The Thing From Another World, John Carpenter's The Thing, while initially dismissed by critics upon release, has over the years bettered its reputation and is now rightfully considered the sci-fi horror masterpiece that it is.

Opening with a stunning shot of the frozen Antarctic tundra, Carpenter immediately establishes a sense of place in the desolate and isolated frozen land, as the film begins with a mysterious sequence of Norwegian men flying on a helicopter trying to snipe at a snow dog running towards an American scientific research base. Seeing this, the Americans at the base believe the men are deranged and eventually the Norwegian men are accidentally killed, with the Americans rescuing the chased dog, which they then take under their care. Little do they know, this snow dog has been over-taken by an alien creature which has complete consumed and imitated the canine's body -- a creature we'll call "the thing". An alien organism which, if left alone (in any shape or form) with another living organism, can in fact consume and imitate said organism, without it being remotely apparent to any outside party, making it nearly impossible to determine if the person or animal has been infected. When the "the thing" starts infecting members of the American scientific research base, paranoia, distrust, and chaos ensues.

Perhaps nothing profound, yet the film does an interesting job of exploring group dynamics. As isolated as this small group of men is, everything relies on mutual trust between each and every member, and when that trust is fractured, the cohesiveness that glues this group together now crumbles. Despite the vile nature of "the thing", most of its damage is caused by just sitting back and letting other uninfected individuals destroy each other in reckless mistrust and paranoia. This is an organism which is only bent on survival; it keeps quiet, lurking in the shadows. Carpenter works heavily in ambiguity. More questions are left open than those that are answered. Instead of utilizing dramatic irony in showing us, one by one, who is infected, information is purposefully left out or vague, keeping the audience always guessing if any character at any given time is infected or not. Notice how characters consciously withdraw and avoid each other out of fear of having no one to trust. The audience as well becomes isolated and paranoid, for even the traditional hero character (played by Kurt Russell) is still left ambiguous for much of the film as to what his condition is. The film perfectly puts the audience in exact same position as the characters in the film. And as the film progresses, it becomes clear what kind of world-wide implications the characters face if they cannot destroy this "thing". This is a very bleak and grim film, from the very beginning up until the ambiguous end.

In addition to its psychological aspects,  The Thing of course is famous for its outrageous gore, which is indeed fantastic. Despite approaching 30 years in age, the film and its special effects remain as fresh as ever. Yet is a horror film which works on even more levels as well. Legendary composer Ennio Morricone supplies a wonderfully minimalist musical score which, in combination with the brilliant use of setting and amazing lighting, helps create a thick atmosphere. Working in more subtle ways, perhaps the most deeply unsettling images are the striking shots of the souless eyes of the alien "possessed" dog, as it quietly wanders around the base, the shots so (relatively) simply composed, yet carry so much impact. Carpenter's skill in story-telling and technical mastery elevates what is essentially a B-movie remake into high art -- a brilliant blend of mainstream and art-house sensibilities. This is perfect cinema.

And yet, beyond all that, what is ultimately so remarkable about The Thing is how refreshingly clear and to the point it is. It is neither profound nor shallow -- neither pretentious nor mindless. There are no extraneous subplots, no distractions. You get what you sign up for -- a sci-fi horror/mystery of the highest order. Slow-burning, visually stunning, and atmospheric -- yet also fantastically gory and bad-ass. The performances are perfectly adequate from the whole cast, if not at times particularly impressive. The tension in some of the scenes is incredible. It walks a fine line between "serious" and campy horror to perfection -- enough so that the film always remains intense and frightening, yet it never loses its B-movie charm.

To put it simply, I would rank The Thing easily amongst the finest films I have ever seen.