The Thing (1982)

 "I'm trying to get some sleep. I was shot today."

Yes, it's absurd that I'm seeing The Thing for the first time in 2022. I suppose I have half an excuse that I saw thiis asa kind of remake of The Thing from Another World, and had to see that first, but even so.

This film is superb, basically. Not because it reinvents the wheel; it doesn't. It's a very straightforward base under siege story, where the entire cast spends the film paranoid, ascanyone could be the unnamed alien creature. The creature looks amazing; Alien has had a definite influence. There's a character called Fuchs. Titter.

But, essentially, this film is as good as it is pretty much entirely because of John Carpenter's first class direction. That's pretty much it. The way he shoots the snow; the way he shoots the shadows. The sheer bloody tension that anybody could be this shape-shifting alien. This gloriously slimy, '80s alien aesthetic that never stops being awesome, and is splendidly pre-CGI.

The film is entirely set, barring a brief expedition to some dead Norwegians and a millennia-old flying saucer, in and around one compound in Antarctica, full of central heating, booze, weed and a computer version of chess that I swear I once played on the Acorn Electron. The ensemble cast makes the film almost as much as the direction, but obviously Kurt Russel deserves special praise. Yes, it's a sausage fest, with no oestrogen to be seen and the Bechdel Test failed spectacularly.

This film doesn't do anything radical. It just does jump scare sci-fi horror really, really, really well.