They Live (1988; John Carpenter) is the premiere example of the type of movie that, had it been 45 to 52 minutes in length, would have made a perfect episode for The Outer Limits, that legendary early-1960s sci-fi/thriller/horror anthology TV show (revived in the 1990s).
There are several sci-fi films, mainly contemporary, usually lower
budget B-movies, with off-beat sometimes controversial takes on genre
situations; I’m not talking “tentpole” flicks like the Transformers movies—(partial
list below)—
and all these movies could be edited down to 45 to 52 minutes, and would be great as an episode of The Outer Limits.
But while those movies would need trimming throughout to make the grade
(but especially in their early sections), you could let They Live unspool uninterrupted from the beginning until a specific, certain moment roughly 40
minutes in, and like I said before, it’s perfect.
Potential episodes of The Outer Limits include films like:
Eduardo Sanchez’s chilling UFO-abduction nightmare Altered, Duncan
Jones’ Moon, Apollo 18 (which I liked!), The Crawling Eye, Alternative Three, Cube,
Killer Mountain, Journey to the Far Side of the Sun, The Cabin in the Woods, Chosen
Survivors, Splinter, Triangle, Salvage, Westworld, The Reef, Troll Hunter, and that
movie about the genetically-altered dogs on the island that had eaten everything else and look, here come some teenagers in a boat!; and a whole lot
more—
Feel free to add your own nominees to the list in the comments—
(And I honestly think that if we still lived in a time where sci-fi
anthology shows were popular, many of these films would’ve been steered towards
that direction.)
It’s doubtful anyone invested in genre filmmaking or The Cinema of
Weirdness is unaware of the film They Live—but perhaps a recap is necessary:
Like some Steve Ditko-illustrated noirish sci-fi tale from Marvel’s
early days, the flick’s about a shlub who discovers The Big Secret.
We meet John Nada, an everyman drifter who’s wandered into Los Angeles,
looking for work in a bankrupt America. After witnessing some sinister and
excessive activity (blind preachers spouting crazy talk being carted off by mean
cops; ubiquitous helicopter surveillance; addiction to TV being interrupted by
pirate broadcasts; brutal attacks by SWAT on homeless camps; hyper-rampant
materialism; and more), he finds a pair of magic sunglasses.
As cornball and fairy tale as the glasses may be, Nada finally suddenly
sees the world as it is: subliminal messages everywhere, under all advertisements
and television broadcasts, and disgusting alien space ghouls pretending to be
human: All white people, and usually rich yuppies or imperious business types.
Like some Jello Biafra fantasy, the “subliminal” messages are blunt and
obvious:
OBEY, MARRY AND REPRODUCE, NO INDEPENDENT THOUGHT, SLEEP, and best of
all, on every piece of currency: THIS IS YOUR GOD.
Meanwhile, camouflaged sonic equipment beam “Sleep… Sleep… Sleep…” to
the crowds, and hovering stealth mini-saucers scan from above.
Nada sees it all, and is stunned—because now the world all makes sense.
And that’s where I’d end the
flick!
Of course, being
a John Carpenter film (instead of a Joseph Losey movie, for instance, which
would place all political messages at the forefront to the detriment of any
“entertainment”), the action kicks in, including that infamous and stupid
11-minute fight (which is loved, natch, but really necessary?), leading to the mini-apocalypse on the roof of the TV station, and
the shutdown of the “signal.”
Those flicks I’d
mentioned before often feel really padded out in spots, usually in the
beginning, as “character” is trying to be “developed.”
While with
They Live, I
feel that if the Carpenter’s film had caught in the gate and melted immediately
after the scene where Nada sees all the “real” messages on the signs, but just
before the “kick ass and chew bubblegum” moment, I would have been fine with
it.
The film’s
message had come through loud and clear.
The movie is
perfect up till then, every moment building mood, often tension; it’s a growing
and possibly dangerous mystery—more unnerving that the police are
involved—genre fans will remember that in 1953’s Invaders From Mars, both
versions of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, I Married a Monster From Outer
Space and It Came From Outer Space (films director/writer Carpenter was certainly
aware of), law enforcement was one of the first segments of humanity absorbed
into the aliens’ conquest plans.
In those moments
of discovery with the sunglasses, the metaphorical truth of our world is shown:
the wealthy plutocrats are invaders stealing our lives for the solipsistic
purpose of making more money, with the power-hungry more than willing to aid
them.
My version of
They Live would end on a very open-ended message that
would fit nicely
with Carpenter’s style of ambiguous endings, while really smashing home the
hopelessness of the situation.
Now, consider
this: What if They Live,
released by
Universal Pictures, now a subsidiary of mega-huge media/internet/phone provider
Comcast,
was part of some
master cointel psywar ops to offer a panacea to the segment of the population
just a wee bit smarter than the rest of the sheeple?
It may be a
“cult item,” but They Live had never been unavailable in home viewing format,
and Carpenter didn’t have to fight to get it on DVD (like Peter Watkins with
his hypercritical left-leaning borderline sci-fi dystopic visions, Punishment Park and Privilege).
Meanwhile, any agitprop that comes through The System is suspect—what
are the messages behind the messages?
The film and its makers’ hearts might be in the right place, but are
they being used in a way that may be ultimately detrimental?
Does someone wearing an “OBEY” shirt ironically make a protest?
What if they wear that shirt and only think it refers to a skateboard
company?
So…now, it’s “cool” to OBEY?
Certainly They
Live is a validation of some paranoid brainiacs’ fears—“It is a weird conspiracy that’s controlling the world!”—but also leads
down a false path, as if maybe we could find their control box and shut down
the subliminal brainwashing signal—but
there are no alien space
ghouls pretending to be human; and the film offers hope of a rescue that is
never coming: no sullen drifter is gonna bring down The Man (even if The Man is
an alien space ghoul).
And after having their suspicions confirmed about the reason why The
Powers That Be are so greedy and uncaring, how many smarter-than-average viewers
did nothing but return to their drugs of choice, whether glass teat or glass
pipe?
They are snug and smug in the knowledge that they were right—here’s a
piece of cinematic art as evidence—and besides, what can only one person do?
I saw the movie in an almost-empty house when it was first released in
the fall of 1988, at some now-gone theater in the Kips Bay area, and I didn’t
start any revolution.
The increasing number of CCTV scanners I saw were proof that the
surveillance security state is here, now,
and doesn’t need flying saucers, but I shrugged.
If anything, I wished the movie was true, so the disgusting actions and
policies I saw going up all around the nation—and continuing today—were
explicable. Otherwise, how could people be so cold and callous and greedy?
Now I know, humans are evil, and
They Live Right
Here, Right Now and They Are Sociopathic Plutocrats!
My roughly
45-minute truncated version of They Live would not start any revolutions, but
it might be more disquieting, more disturbing.
About cutting
down these films—I’m in no way saying something like Videodrome or 2001 or
Ikarie XB-1 should be turned into some 45-minute cinema salad!
It’s just that
B-movies these days often don’t have enough for 90 minutes, and tend to pad
things out.
Back in the days
of drive-ins and double- and triple-features, flicks were made that were only
60 minutes or so, like Attack of the Crab Monsters (62 min.), Robot Monster (66
minutes of unsung Dadaist genius!) Not of This Earth (67 min.) and I Was a
Teenage Werewolf (almost an epic at 76 min.).
Many of the
movies mentioned earlier would have so much more oomph had some of the more extraneous time-killing bits had been
excised.
Y’know, if cut
down to the length of an Outer Limits episode.
Here are a
couple of fun links, regarding They Live:
—Long interview with special effects wizard Jim Danforth, creator of the film’s matte
paintings, and a frequent collaborator with John Carpenter. (The image
immediately below is one of Danforth’s shots for They Live.)
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