(Courtesy of 20th Century Fox and Warner Bros.)
A comparison of two horror films like “Alien” and “The Shining” begs the question, “Which is more scary?” The thought that something out there wants to reduce you to blood and guts, or the possibility that what’s scaring you is just a figment of your imagination? That’s the dichotomy that exists between these two films, which are both excellent examples of how to make audiences squirm in their seats.
I remarked in my review of “Jaws” that modern horror movies aren’t that scary anymore. They may startle us and makes us jump from surprise, but that underlying feeling of helplessness and despair that is the hallmark of a well-made horror film just isn’t there. Good horror movies share many things in common with great sex: The more time spent on preparation, rhythm and build-up, the better the payoff. In the same way, those movies that just focus on gore and violence may leave viewers feeling satisfied, but only in the shallow, ephemeral sense like that of a quick bump and grind.
Now, let’s talk about “Alien.” Despite the fact that “Alien” takes horror to a relatively new setting by taking place in deep space, the strengths of the movie go back to the fundamentals of the genre. Director Ridley Scott takes his time creating the atmosphere of the movie. It opens with lengthy shots of dark, dingy corridors aboard the imposing spaceship Nostromo. Plumbing rattles, water leaks from the ceiling and every hallway is cramped and poorly lit. The oozing cinematography by Derek Vanlint and minimalist score by Jerry Goldsmith are the finishing touches that make the Nostromo such an intense setting for someone…or something…to hide.
After the scene is set, the crew of the Nostromo is awakened by their onboard computer after it detects a distress signal from a nearby planet. Instead of rushing the plot, Scott takes the time to explore develop the characters. They bitch about their bonuses, complain about their food, make jokes and come off as relatively ordinary, blue-collar folks. These early scenes are key because it makes the audience empathize with the crew instead of turning them into mindless cutouts.
From here, the crew is ordered to the surface, though nobody seems really keen on the idea. They investigate the signal, stumble upon a crashed ship on the surface and…well, things go very, very wrong in a hurry after that.
Even once the Alien makes its famed entrance however, the pace doesn’t shift into ADD-mode ala modern horror. As the crew searches for what’s stalking them, Scott still uses long takes to let the tone and atmosphere saturate the screen. Instead of becoming boring, these lengthy shots make the movie more intense because we keep waiting for the Alien to jump out, but that only happens once the tension threatens to overwhelm the viewer.
The Alien itself is a grotesque, ingenious work of art. Designed by H.R. Giger, it’s a slimy, scaly and horrifyingly deadly creation. Yet Scott only shows us the full body of the Alien a few times. Like the shark in “Jaws,” the Alien is much scarier if you only see flashes of it: its head, its tail and it drooling maw of teeth slowly emerging from the shadows as it prepares to strike.
Finally, the cast of “Alien” deserves a great deal of credit for the movie’s success as well. As mentioned above, they all take on the material they’re given with professionalism. Each character is distinctly different from the others, yet none of them really fall into clichés. In particular, Sigourney Weaver brings a welcome breath of no-nonsense edginess to the character of Ripley and Ian Holm shines as the coldly clinical science officer, Ash.
As successful as “Alien” was at plowing new ground in horror, “The Shining” has left an even bigger impact in its wake. Any self-respecting horror fan owes it to themselves to see this movie, if only to understand the mark it has left on popular culture and film in particular. Without “The Shining,” there’s no “Se7en,” no “Silence of the Lambs,” no “Sixth Sense,” and no other members of the psychological horror genre. Debate the merits of the genre if you will, but there’s the denying that it has its roots in “The Shining.”
Like many good horror movies, a simple premise works best, and “The Shining” is basically an old-fashioned haunted house story. Jack Torrance (Jack Nicholson), a recovering alcoholic with a history of abusing his family, is hired to be the winter caretaker at The Overlook Hotel in the rural Colorado rockies. Jack looks like he’s dealing with his issues well, and he brings his wife Wendy (Shelley Duvall) and son Danny (Danny Lloyd) to The Overlook to help run the place. While the family takes well to their new surroundings at first, after a month it looks like the isolation may be getting to them all, and events begin to spiral out of control as a monster snow-storm traps them in the hotel.
Like “Alien,” “The Shining” works on a basic level because it gets the fundamentals right. Director Stanley Kubrick never rushed a shot in any of his films, but “The Shining” in particular takes the time to let shots and scenes play themselves out in languid fashion. The few moments where he resorts to quick cuts, such as a scene that shows brief flashes of a grisly double murder, are used to suggest ambiguity and madness.
But where other horror movies thrive in literal darkness, Kubrick’s darkness is more elusive. The interiors of The Overlook are always well lit, but with an ethereal quality to them, almost like some sort of haze lingers in every hallway. The corridors always seem to be closing in around the family, creating a palpable sense of claustrophobia that permeates every moment of every shot. And the music by Wendy Carlos and Rachel Elkind creates an underlying level of eeriness brings the whole package together.
The torments that plague the Torrance family are never fully described or explained, which is part of what sets “The Shining” apart from other films. It’s plausible to chalk up what happens to malevolent spirits, but Kubrick seems to suggest that the real cause of the family’s misery is in their own heads. No two people ever see the same apparition, and the omnipresent mirrors in many scenes imply an internal conflict rather than an external one.
Consider the scene where Jack is drinking in the hotel bar. When he enters the scene, there’s no one there and no booze. He puts his head in his hands then looks back up and a bartender has miraculously appeared with a bottle of bourbon. The bartender is standing in front of a mirror wall and Jack is totally unfazed by this sudden break from reality. Is he imagining it? Perhaps, since his wife cannot see the bartender when she enters the scene a little later, but Jack is genuinely drunk from a seemingly-imaginary drink. This ambiguity is at the heart of what makes “The Shining” truly scary as we begin to doubt the family’s sanity, and even our own.
“The Shining” contains a number of iconic images that have wormed their way into the pop culture lexicon. A tidal wave of blood pouring through elevator doors, a reoccurring pair of creepy twin girls and Jack Nicholson’s maniacal grin breaking through a door frame are just a few of these often-imitated but never equaled moments. Likewise, “Redrum,” “Here’s Johnny!” and “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” are permanent additions to the horror dictionary.
In a cinema world where vampires are romanticized, zombies have become the subject of parody and the rest of the horror genre seems to be headed the way of the gross-out “Saw” franchise, it’s refreshing to go back and be truly terrified by a film every now and then. While “Alien” and “The Shining” may employ different techniques to reach their ends, they have one thing in common: They’re both genuinely scary, and the perfect way to spend a Halloween evening.
Contact CU Independent Entertainment Editor Rob Ryan at Rryan@colorado.edu.
