Showing posts with label Prequel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prequel. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

THE HOBBIT: THE DESOLATION OF SMAUG

At the end of the day, I'm not sure Peter Jackson understands how to adapt The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien's brisk children's book to which Lord of the Rings was a sequel. Jackson seems to feel that because both books are from the same author and are set in the same universe that they can simply be snapped together with some help from the Rings appendices. But the fact remains that The Hobbit is a fundamentally different work meant for a completely different audience and it's just not an epic, no matter how much Jackson wants it to be. So here we have the second in a trilogy of films based on a 120 page book. The first film visibly strained under the weight of serving both as an adaptation and a prequel to an existing, but dispirit franchise. The second film, The Desolation of Smaug, kinda gives up on the book and settles for just being the best Rings prequel it can be, which is for the best, even if as it continues to feel like the film is being upstaged by franchise obligations.

The film picks up with Hobbit pseudo-protagonist Bilbo (Martin Freeman), exiled dwarf king Thorin (Richard Armitage) and his extended entourage as they race to reclaim their homeland from a usurping dragon.  The echoes from the Rings films start to pile up, particularly with Thorin, whom the film carefully paints as our new Aragorn, introduced here at the same inn where we first meet Aragorn in the previous film. The scene stresses that he too is a roguish heir to a lost kingdom who only needs the courage to take charge of his larger destiny. But whereas Aragorn was noble because he never wanted power, it feels like Thorin and co are, at least in part, in it for the money. Indeed there's an assertion that Thorin has a relationship to the Arkenstone (a McGuffin needed for part 3) that Jackson hopes we'll find analogous to and as compelling as the one between Frodo and The Ring. Further mining the Rings films is material from the books appendices designed to give the main quest more urgency by suggesting that the dwarves must defeat Smaug quickly because Sauron is gaining power and might try and recruit him.

The resulting film feels more like a chase movie with ticking clocks and the kind of easily surmountable impossible obstacles we expect in a proper adventure: dark forests, ancient riddles, Ray Harryhousen spiders, politically ambivalent elves, orcs, goblins, shifty rogues and they even manage to squeeze in the titular dragon. On a superficial level, the action is all well directed, and as long as he sticks to action, Jackson has a great skill in extrapolation. He looks at small scenes in the book, like the one where Bilbo helps the dwarves escape from some elves by hiding them in barrels being sent down river and asks with boyish abandon: "what if there was a lock blocking their way and the elves caught them rasing the gate but then orcs attack everyone and it turns into a great three-way chase down river and one guy gets catapulted into the air, lands and rolls over a bunch or orcs in his barrel," and so on and so forth.

These extended scenes are fun without ever feeling as vital as they should, but as soon as he shifts to narrative, the film starts to dull. For instance, that barrel scene is a lot of fun, particularly with the addition of Rings favorite Legolas (Orlando Bloom) and his sidekick Girl Legolas (Evangeline Lilly) opening up a can of whoop-ass on wave after wave of faceless goons, but when they stick around to have a pointless love triangle with one of the dwarves that's all forbidden and junk, it starts to feel just a tad calculated.

If you're wondering where all these additions leave Bilbo and Smaug, the two title characters of the film, the answer is nowhere, the two seem strangely diminished here. Bilbo exists primarily to get the dwarves out of trouble while Gandalf (Ian McKellen) is off doing stuff (with thankfully little assistance from Radagast). As much fun as it is to watch Martin Freeman do stuff, this is sort of preferable to his treatment in the last film, which labored endlessly over his potential importance. That said, it's hardly ideal for him to just blend in with the group of 13, mostly undeveloped, dwarves.

Then there's the eventual encounter with Smaug. All the build up with Sauron kind of turns Smaug into a second-teir villain. Important not for his own villainy so much as his potential usefulness as a future henchman of the real bad guy who belongs to a different trilogy. Furthermore, while Smaug is played with gleeful menace by Benedict Cumberbatch and is given a magnificent entrance, he comes in at a point where the film desperately needs to start thinking about its cliffhanger but instead reaches greedily for just one more action sequence that every audience member knows wont resolve anything, alter the narrative or our perceptions of the characters. It's just another example of what this series needs less of: padding.

It's sad that Jackson feels so adrift. His Lord of the Rings trilogy should have been the beginning of a bold, new chapter of his career as a more manic successor to David Lean, but instead of finding big stories to tell, he seems to think he can take smaller stories and stretch them to epic lengths, first came his gargantuan King Kong remake, now this. He want's length, but he doesn't understand that length requires density. If he wants to continue in this direction, there are other great sci-fi/fantasy books to adapt and fantastic historical epics he could be doing (Napoleon, Musashi Miyamoto), or he could going back to his horror roots or do something completely new. Instead he's stuck in a rut of faux-epics, trying to stuff his past triumphs into ill-fitting forms.

Grade: B-

Monday, December 24, 2012

THE HOBBIT: AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY

The best thing I can say about Peter Jackson's The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, part one of a promised 3-part adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings prelude novel The Hobbit, is that it has much of the technical brilliance of it's predecessors. The sweeping vista's of New Zealand are as jaw-dropping as we remember, Howard Shore's score is one of his best in years, and the performances are mostly excellent. However it's lacking in one critical respect—editing.

The titular hobbit, Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman), is a completely average hobbit, he likes tea, food and sitting around. One day he meets a wizard named Gandalf (Ian McKellen) who insists on inviting 13 dwarves, lead by Thorin (Richard Armitage), to Bilbo's house. After an endless dinner party Gandalf asks Bilbo to come along with them to a far away land to kill the dragon that took the dwarves homeland.

Bilbo is not the type to go on adventures, but he goes anyway. Apart from some allusion to recklessness in his family tree, his decision to go is never satisfactorily explained. If I recall, the book glossed over this issue with its brisk pace. The film on the other hand, never stops wondering, in a vain attempt to squeeze some complexity (not to mention extra running time) out of this children's story.

A typical exchange goes something like this:
Bilbo: Why am I here Gandalf?
Thorin: Why is he here Gandalf?
Gandalf winks knowingly
Bilbo and Thorin: That doesn't tell us anything!!!

In another attempt to add complexity, Jackson adds some material from the appendices of Lord of the Rings. Some of this material explains where Gandalf goes on his frequent disappearances. Too much features Sylvester McCoy as an insufferable, hippy-dippy, tree hugging wizard named Radagast who is one of the least important characters in Tolkien's mythos. Yet Jackson has beefed up his part so that instead of Gandalf, it's Radagast and his sled of super fast rabbits who stumble onto signs that Rings villain Sauron may be about to return. If you're wondering what any of that has to do with Bilbo, the dwarves and their quest to kill the dragon, the answer is nothing. Nothing at all. But we get so much of it that an audience member could almost be forgiven for forgetting about the main plot.

If that weren't irritating enough, the film goes to great length to extend material that should have been told more efficiently. Compare the film's seemingly endless prologue to the one in Fellowship of The Ring which took less time to set up a lot more. I imagine some hardcore fans will enjoy all the book centric details Jackson has squeezed in here, but the thing that made Jackson's earlier film's work was his ability to balance the nuance of Tolkien's prose while still making efficient, accessible films. Those older films were long, but even Jackson's truly epic extended cuts justified their running times with a sense of momentum and rich, compelling characters.

If Jackson wanted to make this film longer, why didn't he do it by developing the characters more deeply. We have a company of 13 characters in this film and at the end of it I know almost nothing about them. Apart from maybe Thorin, the dwarves are completely interchangeable, distinguishable almost exclusively by beard style. Let's also not start with Gandalf who in this film alternates between incompetence and walking deus ex machina.

Some of these problems are there in the source material, but they're just exacerbated and underlined by this film's epic 169 minute running time. I was frequently reminded of the running gag from Monty Python and the Holy Grail were the film would frequently cut to a large crowd or God yelling at the film to "Get on with it!"

That's not to say it's a total wash. Some of the light comedy is effective, and once the Dwarves leave Rivendel, the momentum really picks up with a rip-roaring action sequence where the company is kidnapped by Goblins. The elaborate razzle-dazzle of it all almost makes all the set up worth it. It's so good that I caught myself thinking that maybe Jackson knew what he was doing after all, and settled in for a good time, but then the movie ended. Maybe the next two films will be better. Maybe Jackson will remember how to tell stories economically and deliver something that will make all this set up worth it, but this film is 169 minutes and covers only the first 120 pages of it's source material and that is unforgivable. The fact that it only feels 40 minutes too long is a strange but dubious victory.

Grade: C+

Note: The film was shot in a new process called HFR. Basically it means that the film was shot at twice the usual frame rate. This theoretically creates more natural motion and improves the quality and clarity of the image, particularly in 3D. A lot of people have disliked it, it's an odd effect. Until my eyes adjusted it seemed almost as if the film was on fast forward. But once I became accustomed, I really dug it, particularly in the night scenes (a notorious problem spot with 3D). When HFR works, the image looks almost disconcertingly real, as if you're watching history's most expensive play. What's more, the frame rate is easy on the eyes. After 2 1/2 hours of constant, intense 3D, I had no eye-strain whatsoever. It's not for everyone, many people just can't stand the look. If you plan on seeing the film in 3D, I'd give it a shot. Otherwise just stick with traditional 2D.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

PROMETHEUS

On the top of a waterfall there is a man. Well, not quite a man. He’s twelve feet tall, with skin like marble and muscular beyond belief. Above him, hovering in fog, is an ill defined disk like shape. The man-thing gives it an offering, and then as if the disk where retaliating against him, the man-thing disintegrates. Watching the scene, one gets the feeling that this offering and rejection is a common ritual. That the man-thing knew full well what was going to happen.  Not unreasonable considering the titular myth. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t know that he was about to be chosen for death. Why does God sometimes choose to reject his creatures? Why does a father strike a son, and why does the son still love him after?

After that opening scene, the film jumps forward an unknown number of millennium to the year 2089 where two archeologists, Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace) and Charlie Holloway (Logan Marshall-Green), have discovered a series of cave paintings from all over the world that seem to suggest the possibility that life on Earth really began out there. They head out on an expedition to a small, incredibly distant moon the paintings point too. On it they they find a series of roads leading to a kind of dome. Inside the dome they find a room full with a colossal statue of a human head surrounded by hundreds of metal “vases.” As must happen in films like this, one of the vases is opened, witch contributes to a series of terrifying occurrences I dare not reveal.

Ridley Scott's Prometheus functions as a sort-of prequel to his first sci-fi film Alien, which spawned three sequels and by the time the franchise was spun off into the Alien vs. Predator films, the thing was as run into the ground as a franchise can get. It seems that part of Scott's agenda is to rescue the franchise he started. He does a respectable job of it too, with so many prequels (Terminator: Salvation, the most recent version of The Thing) that try ever so hard to connect the dots, it’s great to see that Prometheus mostly tries to be, not just it’s own film, but a deeper and more relevant film than any of it’s predecessors. Not that it doesn’t resemble them at all, it has a lot of the same structure as Alien, and some similar story beats play out, themes are repeated, and some of the repetitions are more welcome than others. For instance, you’ll never believe that the giant corporation has an agenda–yet a fifth time!

But where the film succeeds is in what it’s trying to do different. It’s interesting that the crew member most like the original films protagonist is Vickers (Charlize Theron), who’s basically one of the film’s villain’s. She's a company overseer for Wayland Corporation, the company that funded the expedition. She’s cold and by the book like Ripley and despite her puppet master role, she’s ultimately more frightened of what they might find than anyone else. The real story on the acting front is Michael Fassbender as David the android. There have always been robots in the Alien franchise, but David may go down as the most memorable. He’s played initially as a sort of Pinocchio (in one scene, he bleaches his hair to look more like his hero T.E. Lawrence), but as the film goes on his innocence seems more and more plastered on. Apart from the interesting character arc, Fassbender creates a character whose every movement is fascinating. Even watching him play basketball is somewhat hypnotic. Idris Elba is a lot of fun as the ship’s captain and even though the crew is a little too big to develop everyone well (I counted 10 crew members), even the monster food roles are well cast. They’re all good at what they're doing, but they don’t all need to be there. The film gets away with this a little because the ideas being wrestled with are so big.
 
As you can guess from the opening sequence, there is a lot of God stuff in this film. Pretty much every character has some sort of opinion or relationship that comments on the Creator-Creation relationship that the film is exploring. Shaw wears a cross, despite the fact that her discoveries would probably invalidate the vast majority of religions, but she still chooses to believe. Someone comments that the difference between God creating man and man creating an android like David is that man created David “just because he could.” And near the end, one character is reviled to have some father issues that seem ever so relevant to the theme of a passive God turning malevolent. Scott’s vision of spirituality is as complex and terrifying as any the monsters in the film.

As for the monsters, it should be noted that the creature from the original franchise doesn't show up here (for the best, too much baggage I think), what replaces them is perhaps not as immediately iconic, but interesting. Anyone who loved the franchise for its sexually charged, body horror imagery will not be disappointed by the snake monsters, the final shot, or the most disturbing surgery I’ve ever seen on film. It’s not as scary as the original Alien, but that’s a very high bar. The film gets close at times, but the film’s tension is undermined by some of those minor characters.

The film has a lot going on, I know that not all of it works, but it’s complex enough that I’m going to have to watch it a few times before I’m sure of what does and what doesn’t. The fact that it’s a film that I want to see several times says a lot in this age of disposable blockbusters. Scott is trying to make his version of 2001: A Space Odyssey, and is totally not getting there, but the results are fascinating to watch and will serve as some great nightmare fuel.

Grade: B+

Friday, October 28, 2011

MAKE/REMAKE: The Thing From Another Word (1951) vs. The Thing (1982) vs. The Thing (2011)



Remakes are a tricky thing. They are almost universally reviled but only in the world of film. No one minds when a theater company revives Othello, or when a singer covers a famous song. It's not like the remakes are filmed on the bleached negatives of the originals. Perhaps it's because the originals are often beloved and the remakes are so often sub-par. But must it always be this way? It seems that if a remake where to work, the original would have to be good but lacking in some obvious way and/or the creators of the new version must have some kind of vision, or unique take that justifies the expedition. Which brings us to The Thing, the rare case that has been filmed, not once, not twice but three times. The first remake shows how to do a remake correctly, and the more recent remake shows how to get it all wrong.

The Thing From Another World, co-directed by Howard Hawks and Christian Nyby is a great example of a 50's B-movie. It's got it all: the army, aliens, scientists, radioactivity even an intrepid reporter.

The film starts off at a military base on the edge of American civilization (Alaska) where we meet a curmudgeonly Air Force re-supply crew lead by Captain Hendry (Kenneth Tobey) on their way to the research base deep in the Arctic wilderness. It's cold there. The wind blows horizontal snow. Icicles hang all the way to the ground. Snow is piled up 10 feet high outside. But there's more going on than the temperature. A strange crash has been reported a few miles from the base. The crew and a bunch of scientists go to investigate and discover the remains of a flying saucer. The craft is accidentally destroyed but our heroes are able to recover its pilot, encased in an 8-foot block of ice, and take him back to the base. 

Now obviously we know that the thing will get loose and start terrorizing the base. It was a law of the horror genre even in 1951. But there is a second conflict between the Air Force personnel and the scientists. The lead scientist Dr. Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) fills a role nearly analogous to the evil corporation man in more recent horror films. Dr. Carrington doesn't want to destroy the Thing, but wants to save and study it. He just can't believe that a super-intelligent creature can be malevolent He's not an evil scientist per se, he just has his priorities wrong. The second half of the film is fairly atmospheric, you can see the influence on future sci-fi/horror films such as Alien, and the ending is dynamite but the film has a few things that keeps it from transcending its genre.

Co-directors Hawks and Nyby do a great job of showing us how cold the base is on the outside, but when the film goes inside, it's quite easy to forget that theses characters are in the arctic at all. They try a bit, wind rushes inside when doors are opened and alike, but these gimmicks are few and far between and come off as cheap tricks. All it would have taken is the faint sound of the wind howling. The second, larger problem is that the group is too chummy. Even after the creature kills two people, the remainder of the crew still trade jokes with each other as if nothing has happened. Captain Hendry is almost more concerned with wooing his old flame (Margaret Sheridan) as he is with killing the creature that's threatening the world.  To be fair, the romance subplot is done well, and just racy enough to raise eyebrows (be prepared for some light bondage). Also the comradery between the men is fun, even if it is out of the war movie cliche handbook, but ultimately, while these elements help keep the film from being too one-note, make the film tonally wonky.

What really keeps the film going is the titular thing. In the short story that inspired the film, Who Goes There? by John W. Campbell, the creature was a shape shifter, a great gimmick that was dropped for this version. Perhaps it seemed too technically difficult (though a lot can be done with shadows) but it's also likely that the idea of a monster that can look like anyone might have been a little too touchy in 1951, in the midst of the the Hollywood Blacklists. That said, the Hawks/Nyby Thing is still interestingly weird. Thought went into this creature, not in the sense that it's biologically air-tight or even plausible but in the sense that it perfectly strides the line between cheesy and creepy. The constant speculation and hypothesizing about that nature of the beast gives the film a mild creep factor that is enhanced by the fact that we don't really see that much of the Thing until the end. We know that it is basically humanoid but that's about it. Of course that is a very wise strategy considering that the final reveal of Thing is a little disappointing.

The Thing From Another World is a fun film, full of enough gee-goolies to bring out the 10-year-old in anyone and it's got at least one great jump-scare but a remake is still understandable. It's easy to see how, with the right director, this material can be tweaked to make a truly terrifying picture that works as something more than a genre picture, something that, to quote the film, truly makes you watch the skies in fear.

Which brings us to John Carpenter's 1982 remake titled simply The Thing. By the time Carpenter started work on the film he had already established himself as an important, bankable director. Why do a remake at this point? Well, Carpenter was a fan of the original film, but was also a fan of the original short story, which the Hawks/Nyby team had largely reconfigured to fit their sensibilities and the technology of the time. But fidelity alone is not enough to justify an adaptation. Anyone can follow the source exactly. For example: Zack Snyder essentially took himself out of the equation on his adaptation of Frank Miller's comic 300 by following the graphic novel word for word, panel for panel, too in love with the material to fully filter it through his own mind and make his own film. Something that Carpenter is willing and able to do with his version of The Thing. The result is a film that is not only faithful to the short story but also feels like it could have only been made by John Carpenter.

Right from the opening scenes it's clear that Carpenter and screenwriter Bill Lancaster (Bad News Bares) have more on their minds than Hawks and Nyby. The film is a series of questions, many of which are never answered. The film opens with Norwegian scientists hunting a dog via helicopter. The scientists chase the dog to an American outpost. They try and warn the scientists there to stay away from the dog, but get themselves killed before they can get the message across. This leaves the Americans to wonder why in the hell a bunch of scientists would be trying to kill a dog? Did they go nuts or is something more sinister going on?

Two of the Americans, Cooper (Richard Dysart) and MacReady (Kurt Russell) check out the Norwegian camp. The place looks like it's been firebombed. The bodies they find look like murders or suicides. But then there's the other body. The thing doesn't look right, doesn't look human. "Is that a man in there?" Cooper asks. They bring it back to base and have the camp surgeon, Blair (Wilford Brimley), do an autopsy, revealing that despite the heavy deformities the body has a perfectly normal set of human organs.

Meanwhile there's that dog they rescued from the Norwegians. He's a strange mutt. He looks catatonic and rigid. It turns out that the dog is not really a dog, and the body isn't really human. They're Things; alien creatures that can flawlessly replace any life form they touch. By the time the Americans find out, it's too late; some of them are still human but some aren't. 

Isolation is a bigger theme this time around. We never see anything outside of the base. The radio is even less functional here before being destroyed altogether. The exteriors feel a lot colder, and the interiors are dank and claustrophobic, no forgetting where you are in this version. Cabin fever really sets in. 

 The whole business with the Norwegian camp is an invention of the Carpenter film, but it's a great device. It allows Carpenter to slowly develop the film as he introduces the characters and plants images that he'll come back to later in the film. It's also a great piece of misdirection. The film looks like it's a mystery centered on what happened to the Norwegian camp, but the real mystery has much more immediate stakes. Also, finding the creature among the corpses of it's previous victims is just a lot more atmospheric than what appears in the short story or the Hawks/Nyby version

Another choice that Carpenter makes is in his characterization. Like the Hawks/Nyby version, Carpenter has a large group of people populating the base but they're not separated along the ideological lines of "military might" vs. "scientific curiosity." Carpenter's crew are more diverse than that. Some of them are scientists of varying fields, some might be ex-military, some are blue collar schmoes. As a result they feel less like abstract archetypes and more like real people and this makes their eventual conflict more believable. Unlike the original, no one is concerned with studying or making peace with the Things. The creatures are too gruesome and horrifying to inspire any empathy.

The portrayal of the creatures is an interesting choice. We see a lot of them here, that seems to break the so-called "Jaws Rule" which states the more you show of a monster, the less scary it is. But Carpenter gets away with it because he's mixing different kinds of horror. He has the gooey creature effects, but he also has long stretches where the things go unseen as the heroes try and figure out who is human, and who is a thing. There is the famous scene where MacReady thinks he finally has a way to delineate man from thing via blood test that shows how Carpenter builds up the psychological tension and then gives it a wondrously icky payoff.

If John Carpenter’s Thing was an example of an exceptional, well justified remake, than the 2011 re-remake by first timer Matthijs Van Heijngen Jr, is an example of a remake that has very little to offer.

Technically speaking, The Thing 2011 is not a remake, but a prequel (though they still titled it as if it were a remake). This immediately gets the film into trouble. What made Carpenters version work was that it was its own beast. It didn’t try to be anything like the Hawks/Nyby version, nor was it afraid to deviate from its literary source. It was a case of a young director taking per-existing material and putting his own, indelible stamp on it. In the process, Carpenter made his third classic film (after “Halloween” and “Escape From New York”). By choosing to set his film in the same universe as the '82 film, chronicling the events at the Norwegian camp before the Thing escaped and made it’s way across the Antarctic tundra to trouble Kurt Russell and his friends, Heijengen limits its potential, shooting himself in the foot right out of the gate.
There's another conceptual problem: the whole point of the Norwegian camp affair in the ’82 Thing was to foreshadow what was about to happen to the American camp. For those who saw the original, there's no extra mystery added by switching camps and screenwriter Eric Heisserer (Final Destination 5), don't do much do exceed those rock bottom expectations. Yet again, an Antarctic research camp finds a flying saucer trapped in the ice. Yet again, the scientists find a passenger entrapped in a block of ice and bring it back to base only to see it thaw (this time it explodes out of the ice) and wreak havoc by imitating people. At this point it should be very clear that although this film is technically a prequel, it follows more than enough of the basic plot points to qualify as a stealth remake. 
 
But even from this compromised position, I'd like to think that a film can still recover. A good director, a good screenwriter can still make a worthwhile film. Unfortunately a series of poor choices Heijngen makes shows that he is poorly qualified to follow John Carpenter and Howard Hawks.

Firstly, while Carpenter populated his film with well defined characters, Heijngen populates his with monster food. Many times I found myself wondering who these people were and whether I should care about any of them. Second, in the Carpenter version, the monsters where intelligent. Only attacking when they had selected a good target or they backed into a corner. They bided their time, and were more chilling for it. In Heijngen’s version the things attacked whenever the screenplay was getting dull, which was quite frequently.

The monsters themselves looked good. I suspect that some of these designs could be made into popular action figures. However, the physicality of the monster has never been the scariest element in these films and in this new version the things are gooey for sure, but never was I scared of them. They are shown too often and too clearly. The film often feels like a run-of-the-mill slasher film with anonymous people hiding in the shadows, getting picked off one by one.

Adding to the films generic qualities are the unnecessarily, ubiquitous camera shakes, and a laughable musical score by Marco Beltrami. As the film goes on, it becomes more and more about connecting the dots between it an the original (incorrectly I might add) than telling its own story. The climax of the film takes place inside the flying saucer. The one location in the Thing universe even less in need of further investigation than the Norwegian camp.

The film wasn't all bad. There where some clever details. Like the idea that the things can't replicate non-organic matter. It's a reasonable idea that might help answer lingering questions from the '82 film. It pays off well in a scene involving tooth fillings. Also, it was interesting to see a female lead in this material and Mary Elizabeth Winstead (Scott Pilgrim vs. The World) was fine casting. That said, because the film is set in 1982, you might expect sexual politics to play some role in the film, but they don’t. Also, more could have been done with the fact that this group of scientists where a multi-national crew. It could have been the American's vs. the Norwegian's vs. the Thing. But this film is full of stuff that could have been good had the filmmakers made the choice to pursue them instead of making a cookie-cutter monster mash.

So there we have it. This film has been made three times now. The material has inspired countless other films from Alien to Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The material can work or not work. The versions that do work, work because their directors made intelligent choices in how to execute that material.  

“The Thing From Another World” B+
“The Thing” (1982) A
“The Thing” (2011) C


NOTE: If you'd like to know more about John Carpenter as a director and his version of  "The Thing,"check out this excellent review by Max O'Connell, over at our sister blog "The Film Temple"