The Music of the Alien Saga

~nailing an atmosphere~

It is a known fact that sequels rarely blend in with the artistic quality of the first films, nor do they achieve the commercial success of their forerunners. This is especially the case with films that turn into franchises - do we really need a HIGHLANDER VI or a FRIDAY THE 13TH MCXVI?

But on rare occasions, a film franchise surfaces that not only becomes a social phenomenon but also a well of artistic renewal. I'm thinking of things like STAR WARS, INDIANA JONES or THE OMEN. However, it is said among literary connaiseurs that a [film] series should end in a trilogy, attaining some sort of closure pertaining to the classic Aristotelian division of beginning, middle and end (referred to as the "unity of action"). The fourth film in a series is thus a very vulnerable one, especially if the series is a franchise that depends upon a certain amount of recipe writing (STAR WARS is space opera, INDIANA JONES is popcorn adventure, THE OMEN is supernatural drama focusing on ONE person's life).

However, the ALIEN SAGA, despite the fact that it now consists of the infamous four films, diverges from all the aforementioned series on a couple of crucial points. Firstly, it has always been the agenda of the producers - from ALIEN and onwards - to invest in NEW TALENT and A DIFFERENT VISUAL APPROACH for each film of the series, making each film not so much an "episode" of a larger story arch, but an exhibition of the artistic talents of the "hot shots" at the time (be it the director, cinematographer, composer or actor).

As such, each film is branded with one particular style that envelops both the director's personal vision and the style particular to one period in film history.

Secondly, the stringent recipe that binds the saga together narratively - not exactly groundbreaking ("people running away from aliens in long and dark corridors")  - is RENEWED for each film by altering the ingredients (the "spicey" and militaristic ALIENS vs. the "sweetened" and campy ALIEN: RESSURECTION).

Of course, there are variables within the ALIEN series that LINK it to other film serials as well, perhaps most obviously the theme of a species/creature that does not want to die (FRIDAY THE 13TH, HALLOWEEN, NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET etc.), but also more subtle ones like the psychological evolution of the main character, Ellen Ripley (Luke Skywalker of STAR WARS, Damien of THE OMEN).

In either case, analyzing the ALIEN films or their respective musical scores - both chockful of symbolic nuances - is a task worthy of entire books, so I will have to limit myself to describing each film's overarching "atmosphere", as manifested by the filmmakers' indelible style. What is the trademark style and how is that mirrored in the score?

ALIEN (1979)

Ridley Scott has always been a visual director. With a background firmly molded in the commercial industry, the emphasis on visually striking the audience has always been of high priority in his films. After the surprising success of his intricately detailed THE DUELLISTS, Scott was offered the job of ALIEN. The concept itself was drawn from various sources such as the monster films of the 50's, but first and foremost from the swiss designer H.R. Giger and his fabulous "organic-mechanical" take on the alien creature. A slimey sensuality of sorts.

It is this "sensuality" that colours the entire imagery of ALIEN with freudian terms - such as the alien mothership which looks more like the inside of  a womb than anything else, and our heroic astronaut everyday workers penetrating the ship to find the inner core full of life...

This theme, though, is touched upon already in the eerie opening scenes of the film, wherein a camera slowly and silently pans through the  womblike, darklit corridors of the human spaceship (whose main computer is referred to as "mother" by the astronauts), certain unidentifiable objects - futuristic, technical gadgetry - blinking and moving around in the darkness. These first few movements are signs of life - that the spaceship is awakening from long-time hybernation, for some reason. The camera moves slowly into the "inner sanctum" of the ship and we are suddenly surprised by the icecold, laboratorish lights turning themselves on. The cryogenic chambers in the middle of the room open like doors of a Lamborghini sportscar and reveal our human protagonists eventually coming to their senses.

This heavy symbolism - life, mother, darkness, the unidentified - is underscored wonderfully by Goldsmith's subdued orchestration. The music - winds echoing a solemn two-note motif - is hard to separate from some of the sound effects; you're never sure if the sounds emanate from the ship or from the music score  - this approach is maximized and reaches its true fullfillment in Scott's very own BLADE RUNNER from 1982 with a blending soundscape by Vangelis. It is worth noting that Scott replaced certain parts of Goldsmith's original score with passages from the composer's own FREUD, written a few years earlier. Not accidental, one would asume.

The other theme founded already in these opening visuals is, of course, the combination of dark lighting and vast areas, never allowing the viewer to get an overview of the locale or the situation, and thus giving plenty of room for the alien to sneak up on you. Not a new trick, of course, and used in horror films throughout history.

In such a film, therefore, it is essential that the music comes in at the right places. No premonition. No predictability. The absence of music becomes as important as the music itself.

Furthermore, Scott makes it perfectly clear that our protagonists are real, everyday characters facing a surreal challenge. The early  breakfast scene emphasizes this, as the crew, dressed casually in Meyerholdian work suits, prepare to do a routine job. It is crucial that Goldsmith leaves these scenes without music.

On the whole, Goldsmith's score walks the line between sleazy, dark sensuality and horrendous atonal cacaphony for the later action/chase sequences. It is thus a "breathing" score, resonating organically within Scott's equally organical visuals. It's the perfect example of "invisible" scoring, of music responding to and underlining the action without drawing attention to itself.

ALIENS (1986)

It would have been a big surprise if the box office success of ALIEN did not result in a sequel. That it took more than half a decade is more surprising.

James Cameron, director of such turkey classics as PIRANHA 2, blasted on to the Hollywood scene with TERMINATOR in 1984 (drawing Arnold Schwarzenegger with him). Instantenously recognized as a man capable of creating physical tension by nurturing realistic acting contrasted with  fast-pace editing (especially the paralell montage), he seemed like the perfect contrast and follow-up to Ridley Scott's more subdued and psychic dive into the subconscious.

ALIENS is probably the most popular film in the series, although many disagree on its artistic merit. I personally liked it a lot, possibly the best horror action movie ever made, bursting with visual details. There are many similarities between ALIEN and ALIENS - one of them being the essential emphasis on gritty realism in a future, unknown scenario. Notice the voyage to the alien planet, now inhabited by innocent human settlers - just as in ALIEN, the camera moves slowly through the ship's interiors, revealing all kinds of unfamiliar technical gadgetry and equipment that nevertheless seem well-used and worn-down. Like the cargo ship in ALIEN, this is a roughed-up army vessel with realistic navy seals onboard.

The other essential ingredient which is back is of course the long, black corridors of which one is unlikely to get the full overview, this time a monumental research station. Which brings me to the most obvious difference: The size. Everything in ALIENS is so much bigger, so much more violent and militaristic. There are more aliens, more firepower, bigger areas, more people. Rather than constantly hinting at "what we don't see, we fear", we are slapped over the heads by relentless adrenaline.

James Horner's score responds to this, of course - utilizing rhythmically contant snare drums and blaring brass outbursts. However, it is not as easy as that. The film - and score - is very conscious in its balancing of moods and tension. This is evident from the very opening of the film:

As Aram Khachtaturian's lullabyish theme from the Gayane Ballet plays softly underneath, we see Ripley's escape ship from the first film drift graciously in space, seemingly aimless. Eventually - as by some destiny of good fortune -  bumping into an orbiting space station. There are obvious links to Kubrick's classic 2001 here, of course, a film that also used the Khachtaturian piece in the "jogging" scene.

Furthermore, the film is relieved throughout by regular breaks from the action - allowing not only for character development but also for sucking up the eerie atmosphere of an abandoned research station - always knowing that there might be hordes of slimey creatures waiting in the hallway. Most of these are wisely left unscored, but Horner also provides some soft "texture" in these parts. Of particular notice here is the final slow tune when Ripley and the little girl Rebecca are seen sleeping in their cryogenic chambers, exhausted from their combat with the aliens. The lack of music in the sequence before this one - when Ripley, Rebecca and the android Bishop are returning to the mother ship after an explosive finale down at the planet - should be hint enough that it's not quite over yet. Which it isn't of course, and the silent harmony is broken ruthlessly as Bishop is speared by the queen alien hiding in the corner of the escape ship. The final tune, though, played by strings over the silent faces of Ripley and Rebecca, tells us that it is ok to relax now, the film has reached a closure.

Earlier in the film, Horner also displays some wonderful horror scoring as he layers the navy seals' first exploration of the research station with textural, tuneless "soundscapes" reminiscent of the opening bars of Goldsmith's ALIEN for several minutes, drawing out the tension to the max before hitting us in the face with an orchestral outburst as a shadow is seen flickering across the scene in front of the soldiers. The shadow is consequently revealed only to be the little girl Rebecca - the only survivor of the alien attack on the station - but we don't know that, of course. Anyone who didn't jump skyhigh on that occasion must have been using drugs.

The overarching atmosphere, then, is the dynamic of relentless action combined with slowed-down tension, and is mirrored in Horner's score. Cameron's film emphasized the dark, drizzly feeling of the prequel but added a physical flavour. Horner's score turned it into a complete, horrific physical experience.

ALIEN 3 (1992)

David Fincher is currently one of the hottest and most innovative directors in Hollywood with a similar background as Ridley Scott - the commercial industry. As such, the visual element is heightened, with a preference for the darker aspects of both humanity and scenery (SEVEN, THE GAME, FIGHT CLUB). Each film has its separate visual - and aural - colour, often depicting the subject matter thematically through the cinematography. Frequently associated with an emphasis on all things fatalistic, he seemed like an ideal choice for another installment in the  ALIEN franchise.

And so it is clear from the outset that ALIEN 3 is once again very unlike its predeccesor, and that the tone of the movie is overly pessimistic. In the creepy opening titles, we witness a mysterious fire onboard the army vessel of the second film and how an escape pod is automatically launched with the sleeping passengers onboard. As the escape pod cascades down towards a desolate planet housing a roughed-up prison facility, the characters of Rebecca and Hicks (a wounded soldier that survived the prequel) are killed off inside their cryogenic chambers while Ripley's chamber is covered by one of the spidery facehuggers that has obviously found its way onto the ship from the second film, and desperately trying to acid its way through the glass.

This incredible, paradoxical action scene retains its sadness and melancholy through Elliot Goldenthal's requiem-like score, with a lonely boy soprano wailing the demise of the characters from the second film. The muffled sound effects add to the downbeat atmosphere of the overture.

The entire film is covered in a brownish, dirty colour-rug, underlining the grittiness of the prison facility that houses murderers and rapists too foul for the prisons of their own home planets. There is no need for weapons in this desolated Alcatraz in outer space, emphasizing yet again that our protagonists - not everyday characters, but certainly not likely heroes either -  are faced with certain doom should one of the aliens be let loose in the facility. And just the term "doom" is a give-away - there is an instantenously recognizable religious tone in this movie, the theme of belief in cooperation, of salvation through sacrifice.

Goldenthal's score - arguably the best in the saga - definitely answers to this challenge. As a dog that got too close to the escape pod wreckage gives the inevitable, brutal birth to the alien, Fincher magnificently crosscuts this with the sacred burial of Rebecca and Hicks. This "rites of passage" symbolism is beautifully underscored by Goldenthal's powerful "hymn to life" - the soprano voice from the opening titles included.

As a whole, though, Goldenthal's atonal score is overly intense and crampled - like the prisoners themselves - occasionally bursting out complex brass and string clusters when the alien attacks. There is also a "rawness" to his action music that equals, if not surpasses, the action scenes of Goldsmith's ALIEN. This is perhaps most evident in the horrendous rape sequence, wherein the horney prisoners - starved on female company - attempt an assault on Ripley (who, for the occasion, has shaved her head to avoid sexual radiation). After a slow buildup in the groaning low strings, the score suddenly bursts into a techno macho-groove as the prisoners surround her. She is saved in the nick of time by the "preacher" character (yet another religious reference).

The highlight of the score, in my opinion, enters at the very end. The prisoners - with the cost of "preacher"'s life as sacrifice - have managed to trap the alien inside a hydrogen "melting pot". As the sprinklers open and water pours down on the helpless alien covered in liquid hydrogen, Goldenthal follows suit with downward-cascading strings on top of each other, literally forming the mental sound effects of the scene and consequently also adding a much sought-after relief in the music after one and a half hour of more or less non-stop, modernistic aural assault.

Ripley discovers that she has been impregnated by an alien queen (re: the opening scene), and as the final, ultimate sacrifice for humanity she throws herself into the "melting pot" just as the creature is bursting through her chest. Naturally underscored by Goldenthal's requiemish passage, appropriately titled "Adagio" on the soundtrack album. Fincher - and Goldenthal - has led the franchise to an appropriate and seemingly unalterable conclusion - although a downbeat one -  pertaining to the previously-mentioned artistotelian division in three. 

However, whether it was financial or artistic concerns, the trilogy was not to be....

ALIEN: RESSURECTION (1997)

The decision to make a fourth film did not come about without difficulty. How could one possibly continue the series after the total demise of everyone in Fincher's film? Since Ripley was so vital to the entire concept, how could one possibly ressurect her, and was this indeed such a good idea at all? These were among the chief issues that faced the bewildered screen writers.

Once again, though, the preference for constant artistic renewal over narrative coherence came to the fore. 

Jean-Pierre Jeunet, the french director whose uncanny dark humour had graced cult classics such as DELICATESSEN and CITY OF THE LOST CHILDREN, may have seemed like a logical choice in terms of the dark and innovative visual style, but an odd one in terms of the comedic aspect. The ALIEN universe had always been a "purified" science fiction/horror universe and not really the source for funny gags. As the sole bastion for the science fiction film not watered out by having to answer to multiple demographics, this is then a somewhat sorry addition to the concept.

As a consequence, ALIEN: RESSURRECTION is not so much an ALIEN-film as it is a decent - and admittedly innovative - science fiction film. Of course, the combination of rough monster film and dark humour may only result in what is known as "grotesque" or "burlesque", the style familiar to those who have read Roald Dahl novels, to Danny Elfman/Tim Burton fans or to connaiseurs of gothic architechture of the late 19th century.

This is emphasized already in the opening titles. Slimey, appaling and distorted visuals of something that resemble human and alien contours wave and intertwine seamlessly across the scene, revealing what looks like some teeth, then segueing into something that might be an eye etc, underscored by John Frizzell's mysterious and minor-moded overture, a sort of hymn to and requiem for the fallen (and to-be-ressurected) Ripley at the same time. Uniquely grotesque and a prenarrative display, of course, of how they were able to ressurect our heroine.

These disturbing main titles eventually segue into outer space as a gigantic military research vessel scrolls across the screen in a quasi-STAR WARS fashion; John Frizzell accompanies the scene with a seemingly tuneless (i.e. not too heroic - the motives of the passengers are questionable) yet rhytmically coherent military march. Accompanied by a ressurection (no pun intended) of Goldsmith's two-note motif, the camera moves inside and drives forward, through some security-heavy labdoors and halts at a lab tube wherein we see a floating, fetus-like human that resembles Ripley. We are then introduced to the wacky mad-cap scientist (again the classic "horror with humour" burlesque idea) who is responsible for the ressurection process. We learn that DNA traces of the late Ripley and the aliens have been found on the prison planet of the prequel, and that they are trying to use those in a cloning procedure. They have already managed to clone some aliens, but as for Ripley, there are traces of the alien DNA within her (we remember how a queen alien nested inside her in ALIEN3), so it is evident from the outset that the scientists have tried many times to get the right "mix" of human and alien features in their efforts to ressurect her.

Nowhere else is this horrible concept displayed more clearly than about one hour into the movie, where Ripley, guiding a couple of redneck space pirates out of the research station in which the cloned aliens have managed to escape their confines, accidentally stumbles upon the room where the bodies of the seven unsuccesful Ripley clones are stored. From the moment she enters the room, Frizzell literally resurrects the solemn main titles. The camera follows our heroine into the room, from test tube to test tube, witnessing one Alien/Ripley conglomerate more grotesque than the other. The score invokes a contemplation of their horrible deaths and is simultaneously a requiem for the human race, whose scientific strive has moved far beyond the boundary of what is ethically sound.

As a whole, though, Frizzell's score is very modern, dense and overly bombastic, incorporating electronic loops and twists; an obvious effort to retain a sense of dark, down-to-earth seriousness among the over-the-top visuals. There is one example of excellent horror music writing, as our group of rebels swim underwater - and is consequently chased by a surprising couple of marine aliens. As the two aliens close in on the last person of the group, who desperately out of breath tries to increase her swimming speed, Frizzell's music janks up the adrenaline by working as the pulse, or breath, of the audience - stable orchestral outbursts that increase in interval as the aliens approach (similar to, for example, John Williams' regular two-note motif of the shark attacks in JAWS). As we finally see one of the aliens grasp the leg of the unfortunate swimmer,  the orchestra halts momentarily releasing only a sole cymbal crash, a sigh that invokes a sense of doom, the swimmer has met - and we have to accept that she has done so - her fatal destiny.

There are plenty of narrative surprises and new twists in ALIEN: RESURRECTION. Such as the scene towards the end where Ripley, who has become almost half alien herself during the cloning (acid blood, enormous strength) is seen having some sort of sexual intercourse with a queen alien, eventually "giving birth to" - in Jeunet's typical burlesque style - some gruesome hybrid alien, complete with female breasts and piercing black eyes, that eventually kills its alien mother. It is then in return killed by its second "mother" (Ripley) in what may very well be the most horrible screen death of all time. Ripley and the surviving crew members are finally seen heading for earth for the first time in the ALIEN SAGA, opting for a sequel.

Frizzel has to either go with or against these quirky visual challenges. As a whole, he answers - through the hybrid atmosphere of the film (and the protagonist, incidentally) - with a score that is wisely more functional in the action parts and seriously evocative in the "contemplation" sequences. A certain sense of "truthfulness" to the alien universe has thus been retained through the music.

*

This, then, is a brief overview of the music in the ALIEN films, or more specifically: of how the music resonates within the overall atmosphere created by the visual brand of the director.

I said initially that each film is not only a unique director's film, but also a piece of contemporary film history. One can easily spot the sentiment of the time by following the timeline of the Alien Saga. Ridley Scott's film came at a time when the intricate psychological drama was seeing its demise (as a result of, among other things, the blockbuster era initiated by Spielberg's JAWS in 1974, and Lucas' STAR WARS in 1977). Nevertheless, the first ALIEN film may be seen upon as a psychological study taking place in a science fiction environment - "inner space" versus "outer space" so to speak.

ALIENS popped up in the heyday of the action movie, focusing on the resurrection of the invisible narrative Hollywood style of the Golden Era.

ALIEN3 was released in the post-modernity that was the early 90's, when the cinematic expression sought an ambitious return to the more spiritual side of human existence.

ALIEN: RESURRECTION came out on the other side of the 90's. The wave of the time - approaching the inevitable millennium hooplah - was a sort of "rehash" of the classic genres, especially science fiction, incorporating obvious allusions and self-mockery. Although this is very much a Jeunet-film in every respect, portions of his style fit neatly into this pre-2000 sensation of nostalgia.

Goldsmith, Horner, Goldenthal and Frizzell all responded to these time-specific ideologies by widely differing scores (with certain similar phrasings), yet still sharing the sense of darkness, gothicness, sensuality, disturbance that is the alien universe.

Time will show what the inevitable fifth ALIEN installment - the ALIEN 2000 (sic) - will include in terms of artistic renewability (rumours have it it will take place on earth) and what musical score that will strive to nail, or to create, the overarching atmosphere.