Editorials
Imagining Aliens through the Lenses of Horror and Reality
Aliens have been the subject of millions of imaginations over the years. Lately, the topic has begun to become a reality as the United States Pentagon released information on a lengthy UFO/UAP investigation, and NASA has recently opted to look into UFOs.
While aerial objects of unknown origin don’t necessarily mean extraterrestrials, a small poll on Twitter found that 43.5% of voters believe aliens to be the leading cause behind UFO sightings. Similarly, a survey conducted by the Pew Research Center in 2021 found that 51% of voters believed that “UFOs reported by people in the military” are more than likely the result of non-human, intelligent beings.
While it’s unclear whether this is the case, what would it mean for humanity if it was? The answer to this question has been traversed through some of the greatest minds in horror, such as Tobe Hooper, John Carpenter, Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, Stephen King, M. Night Shyamalan, Ridley Scott, and more.
While, thankfully, none of their imaginings have yet come to fruition, through the lens of their creations, we can imagine what we’d be up against in the face of an alien threat.
Everything from these masters of horror’s depictions of the arrival, appearance, communication, goals, and weaknesses of aliens is examined and compared to how it all stacks up against what experts, eyewitnesses, and logic tells us.
How did they get here?
When the idea of aliens visiting Earth is mentioned, the thought of UFOs is not far behind.
Whether we picture the flying saucers popularized in films of the 1950s, such as The Day the Earth Stood Still, a large mothership such as the one from Close Encounters of the Third Kind, or something else altogether, the thought of spacecraft and alien invaders go hand in hand.
However, other horror films have strayed from this norm, delivering alien life through crashed meteorites or meteor showers, such as in Creepshow, Invaders from Mars, Color Out of Space, and The Seed.
No matter the method, aliens descending from the skies above is the most common depiction.
What UFO reports say:
The descriptions of different unidentified aerial phenomena have varied greatly over generations. World War II pilots saw different colored orbs of light that moved at impossible speeds and angles, so much so that they nicknamed them Foo Fighters.
Metallic saucers/spheres, pyramid-shaped objects, and irregularly shaped aircraft are all UFOs depicted in recently disseminated UFO footage captured by various forces of the United States military. While the sizes, shapes, and lights vary greatly, one overlying factor is the speed at which they travel and their impossible maneuvers. It’s worth mentioning that this, of course, does not make these objects alien in origin. A UFO is simply that, an unidentified object.
What do aliens look like?
To contend with the varied portrayals of intelligent alien life in horror, this list is broken down into three sections with subsections where necessary. This is by no means a complete list for as varied as life is on Earth; it is triply so in the imaginations of what the universe (or multiverse) could hold.
Creatures
Whether it’s the “run around on all fours” sort presented by Invaders from Mars (1986) and Cloverfield, or the slug-like variety depicted in Dreamcatcher and Slither, there have been a host of alien creatures in scary movies. Slugs are not the only slimeballs of alien depictions as The Blob and the true form of the creature from The Invasion of the Body Snatchers will attest.
But of course, the most notorious alien creature of them all, the Xenomorph from Alien, proves that bipedal monsters make for terrifying adversaries. While these aliens walk on two legs as humans do, they have multiple distinguishing features that make them decidedly different from humanity. The film A Quiet Place also displayed this sort of extraterrestrial as it has no eyes, advanced auditory systems, and long arms and legs that are unsettlingly disproportionate to its body.
Essence
While not as widely used as some of the other depictions on this list, an alien essence is a horrifying concept. Shudder Original Color Our of Space executes this idea in a way that bends reality. The Tommyknockers alsosaw an alien essence, though this one possesses everyone in its proximity.
Humanoid
These aliens look like humans but not quite. Fire in the Sky, Prometheus, and Predator are all examples of this. However, they are not the only representation of humanoid lifeforms.
The Greys
The grey aliens, depicted with large heads, black eyes, and grey skin, are the most prominent of all alien depictions. There’s a good reason for that, which will be explained momentarily. If you cannot picture one, look no further than the films Dark Skies, Dreamcatcher, Signs, or V/H/S/2. Or, as The Fourth Kind would chillingly remind us, picture the face of a white owl.
Clowns
That’s right, “Close Encounters of the Clown Kind” is a real thing. Well, not exactly, but Killer Klowns from Outerspace is, and although it’s a horror-comedy, viewers cannot deny the film’s creepiness. Moreover, the most recognizable horror clown of all time is oft forgotten that he is also a shapeshifting alien. Lest we forget, Pennywise was in Derry, Maine, because he crash-landed there.
Us
Whether it’s by parasitic infection, shapeshifting abilities, or impressive disguises, the scariest presentation of aliens comes in the form of them already existing among us. Many movies have executed this idea in various ways. Still, the most memorable examples of this idea occurred in the films: Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The Thing, Species, and lest we forget those with “formaldehyde face” once you’ve got the glasses on, They Live.
What alleged UFO abductees say
Horror films frequently use the “grey” variety of alien life from the testimony of famous UFO abductees Betty and Barney Hill in 1961. Their widely publicized claims about being abducted by creatures with grey skin and large eyes made a large impact on what society pictures when they imagine an alien.
How do aliens communicate?
Close Encounters of the Third Kind saw aliens communicate with humans through music tones and Signs saw the use of crop circles.
Other media such as Dreamcatcher, American Horror Story: Asylum, and American Horror Story: Death Valleyutilizes a “human ambassador” to serve as a bridge of communication, a human whose aid is typically acquired through telepathy and other forms of mental jiu-jitsu.
On the topic of telepathic connection, horror sees many extraterrestrials that communicate with each other through a hive mind, such as in The Faculty or Slither.
Of all forms of communication featured, though, the most chilling is the lack of it. There was no discussion possible with the aliens presented in Alien, Predator, Signs, or A Quiet Place. Those aliens aren’t interested in communicating with us.
What the experts say:
Since intelligent alien life would likely have very little in common with us Earthlings (would they even have mouths?), there would be a significant communication barrier between them and us. Scientists believe that math is the universal language, and that would be our best chance of sharing ideas.
However, historically we have used imagery to try to convey different ideas to intelligent life, should it exist. One recent example is the proposal NASA published, detailing a plan to send drawings of naked humans to space. Another example is the Voyager Golden Record that was sent to space in 1977, containing images and sounds of Earth.
What do aliens want from us?
Potential Spoilers
The depicted goals of an invading alien race are numerous. Some seek to inhabit the Earth (Invasion of the Body Snatchers), and others strive to make our planet more like their own (Color Out of Space). Then, there was Predator, who only did it for the thrill of the kill. Meanwhile, the aliens in Dark Skies want to come into your house and stack your dishes and canned goods up at impossible angles to mess with you.
Then, others are portrayed as just stopping by to steal people away. In the words of The Fourth Kind: “An encounter in the first kind, that’s when you see a UFO. The second kind is when you see evidence of it: crop circles, radiation. The third kind is when you make contact. But the fourth kind, there’s nothing more frightening than the fourth. You see, that one is when they abduct you.”
Some films look at the extraterrestrial motivation for abduction from the perspective of why humanity would do it: experimentation. While these films can make for the most horrific of alien encounters (here’s looking at you, Fire in the Sky), they are, unfortunately, the truest to life.
Not because alien experimentation is necessarily happening, but because that’s what humans do. We tag sharks, grow ears on mice, and test products on animals in ways akin to torture, all for our benefit. Should we expect aliens to be any different?
Whether it’s world domination, human enslavement, experimentation, destruction, or abduction, many horror films tirelessly try to give reasoning behind what is happening. Though if aliens ever did choose to invade, we may not survive long enough to know the reason why.
What are the aliens’ weaknesses?
Spoiler Alert
One factor that has allowed humans in horror movies to win against an invading alien race is discovering a particular weakness. Signs and A Quiet Place 2 both show the aliens’ aversion to water. A Quiet Place also demonstrated the aliens’ strength to be their weakness as loud sounds disable them. A homemade drug that served as a diuretic was the weapon of choice in The Faculty. Since most extraterrestrial imaginings tend to be mortal beings, the use of any number of commonplace weapons against them has also proven effective.
The reality of the matter is discussed by Dr. Steven Greer in Unacknowledged. He indicates that if intelligent aliens were able to visit Earth, that in itself would prove technological advances far beyond our own. Because of this, if aliens wished to harm us, any weakness an alien might have would be irrelevant because we’d still be no match for them.
One of my favorite pieces of UFO lore serves as a testimony to this idea. While I will not assert that aliens or UFOs piloted by aliens have ever been to Earth, the following story is true and paints a creepy picture of our defenses failing in the face of an aerial threat.
The Battle of Los Angeles
Two months after Pearl Harbor was attacked, on February 25, 1942, at around two a.m., a blackout was ordered in Los Angeles. Something was in the sky, and anti-aircraft weapons began firing hundreds of rounds of artillery at it. At least five people died in the ensuing chaos: three perished in motor vehicle collisions, and two died from heart attacks. Despite 1,440 rounds of ammunition fired, the object was reportedly not brought down. While the official cause of this event remains unknown, the running theory is believed to be a weather balloon combined with post-Pearl Harbor anxieties.
For now, in the absence of proof, intelligent alien life interacting with Earth does not exist outside of conjecture and the movies. However, if the films are any indicator, we may very well be better off alone.
For more coverage on space invaders, be sure to check out Shudder’s newly-added Alien Encounters Collection and Jordan Peele’s extraterrestrial horror film Nope, releasing theatrically on July 22nd.
If there are any classic alien-horror movies that you wish I’d included or any fun factoids worthy of a tinfoil hat that you’d like to divulge, feel free to share in the comments below!
Sometimes it feels borderline ridiculous to gush about John Carpenter’s The Thing as much as I do. It’s gotten to the point where when I’m asked about my favorite horror film by both friends and strangers, a little bit of embarrassment tinges my expression as I answer; it feels so obvious and rarely surprises anyone. Saying I love The Thing when people expect me to bust out an obscure foreign horror film or a cerebral thriller makes me feel like a rosy cheeked child with a propeller hat and a giant lollipop. “Wow, you love one of the most popular horror films of all time, congrats!”
But it’s just the truth. The first film of John Carpenter’s “Apocalypse Trilogy”, all three of its films are among my favorites. But The Thing has a special place in my heart. It shaped my taste in horror, my taste in most media in general, to be honest. It’s become the gold standard, 10/10 baseline test for the vast majority of my reviews; it is a perfect film, so I judge other films against it. And it’s one of the few movies I have to run back to and watch yearly like clockwork (usually when I’m spending a part of winter tied to the couch). It is, in all regards, the perfect film. If it isn’t the perfect film, then it is at the very least the perfect sci-fi horror film.
So, what exactly qualifies The Thing for literal perfection? It’s a high bar to clear. This article, as informal as it is compared to most of my editorials, is an attempt to explain it.
Even if Carpenter Isn’t the Goat, His Team for The Thing Was
As far as crews go, John Carpenter’s The Thing had the cinematic equivalent of the ’96 Chicago Bulls behind it. We’re talking about an amalgam of some of the most talented people to ever grace the silver screens with their work, boasting alongside John Carpenter two of the heaviest hitters in all of cinematic history: Dean Cundey, and Rob Bottin. Now, we can debate all day about whether John Carpenter is the greatest of all time when it comes to horror directors. Personally, I’m just as liable to say Cronenberg, Del Toro, or Hooper as I am to say Carpenter.
But the key factor to remember here is that Carpenter is the coach, not the star player; the Phil Jackson, if you will. Yes, he is the visionary who directed a near perfect cast of players and composed a tale of pure, apocalyptic paranoia. More importantly, he put together and coordinated the team that would make his vision manifest as reality. And if Carpenter is Phil Jackson, Rob Bottin is the team’s Michael Jordan here, the greatest of all time.
(And to all my Lebron fans, I love you, but you have to sit down for this analogy.)
The Legend of Rob Bottin
Bottin’s story is borderline unbelievable, but it’s the best way to explain how abnormally skilled he is and what he brought to the table for Carpenter. At age 14, Bottin became an apprentice to the at-the-time GOAT Rick Baker after sending him a letter seeking an autograph while sharing his creature designs. He was a quick study under Baker, joining him on the ’76 King Kong and Star Wars, before bouncing to Carpenter’s The Fog and then iconic werewolf picture The Howling.
When he reunited with Carpenter in 1982, he now had 6 classic films under his belt and was moving like an FX bullet train. From ages 22 to 23, he worked on The Thing for 57 weeks in both pre-production and on set. Nearly 24/7 for 400 days, Bottin’s all-gas no-brakes work ethic made The Thing at the cost of his own health, and it resulted in him being hospitalized with pneumonia. He survived and went on to make Robocop. And at least one of your favorite films.
Because no conventional disease or weaponry can kill Rob Bottin.
The Thing Still Features Horror’s Best Practical Effects
Okay, that last bit might be hyperbolic, but the man sincerely put his life on the line to make special effects that haven’t been topped since. Not the best effects in just horror history, or science fiction history, but effects that haven’t been topped in any genre for over 44 years. Not by his mentor Rick Baker, not by Screaming Mad George, not by Alec Gillis (though shoutout to him for his criminally scrapped work on The Thing (2011), and even more criminally ignored work on Harbinger Down). I love Dawn of the Dead, believe me, I do, but he certainly isn’t being beaten out by Tom Savini’s body of work. And that isn’t to disrespect and say that all of the artists that I just mentioned are bad, they’re the best in the game! But Rob Bottin was just that much better.
This inevitably invites the counterpoint: “But it wasn’t just Bottin! Stan Winston and his people were the ones who worked on the Dog Thing to give Bottin’s crew a break, and that’s the best monster in the movie!”. To which I say: look me in the eye and tell me the Dog Thing sequence is better than the Palmer Thing sequence. That’s not even counting the Norwegian Thing, both Norris Things, and the absolutely masterful final creature work that was the Blair Thing. The only reason Bottin and his people didn’t win Academy Awards for their work was because they got jumped by E.T., The Dark Crystal, Conan the Barbarian, and Blade Runner all at the same time at the Oscars. It’s just a consequence of being released during the best year for movies ever.
Okay, Now We Can Talk About Dean Cundey
But of course, these effects are then supported by another true legend: Dean Cundey. Selling people on Rob Bottin being the greatest effects artist of all time, isn’t nearly as difficult as advocating for Cundey, who despite an impressive catalog of filmography, slowed down in the back half of his career. He’s often overshadowed in conversations when it comes to The Thing; it’s always talk of Carpenter’s directing, Bottin’s effects, and Ennio Morricone’s incredible soundtrack up front, and rarely any of Cundey’s work. He isn’t spoken about in the same breath as John Alcott or Michael Ballhaus, cinematographers whose work is associated with prestigious cinema because of their proximity to great directors.
Cundey might not be the director of photography your Martin Scorsese’s or Paul Thomas Anderson’s went running to, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t think he was the most important cinematographer in horror history, just for his work with Carpenter and Spielberg. He helmed three of the most influential films in all of horror with his lighting and camera operating: The Thing, Halloween, and Jurassic Park. The man’s fingerprints are automatically on the cultural DNA of all slashers, most practical effects-driven horror films, and the biggest gateway horror franchise in film history.
The Dream Team That Made The Thing Perfection
Cundey has gone on record saying that despite Carpenter’s input, he was effectively given free rein to light and frame The Thing. The man didn’t just know how to shoot effects to make them evoke true disgust from the audience, he was able to manipulate every aspect of the shot to terrify. His sixth sense cinematography wasn’t just for lighting and playing with shadows, but for the speed of camera movement, the power of his blocking, and for having a complete grasp of communicating texture and temperature.
And temperature is the soul of The Thing. John J. Lloyd’s production design of the research station and the great white expanse around it feels just as bone chilling as the film’s antagonist, thanks to Cundey. There isn’t a single flat shot in the thing, not a moment that doesn’t feel dynamic, and it’s because of Dean Cundey.
Now, all this being said about Bottin and Cundey, they are far from the only ones who synthesized this structurally perfect organism of a movie. Every bit of Todd C. Ramsay’s editing splices the film’s scenes together to move perfectly in-time. David Lewis Yewdall’s sound design and how it gave a voice to the horrors on screen will be etched into people’s brains forever. The point is that everyone, every single person who had a hand in making the film, helped make the movie flawless.
Like the cells of the thing from another world, each crew member on John Carpenter’s The Thing moved in concert with the next, in unison, to create the greatest sci-fi horror of all time. So, is it any wonder why 40 some years later, the film still has us all captured?
Can you believe Cronenberg, Spielberg, and Rodriguez all knew I was gay before I did? Leave it to a screening of The Fly to instantly deposit me in the men’s underwear aisle of the Woodbridge Center Sears, circa 2001. The bulges on the packaging glare at me so obscenely that I begin to sweat. I realize something is amiss as the Geena Davis of Human Resources watches me from security cameras, probably. Puberty is a horror for anyone – for those of the non-hetero persuasion, it’s a nightmare. None of us asked for this, but I certainly didn’t ask for THIS.
Years later, after crystallizing into some semblance of my true form at the ripe age of 37, something became clear. Sci-fi horror is the gateway drug for us queer kids. Hiding, passing, transforming, and, eventually, saying, “fuck it.” It’s all kinda gay, even if David, Steven, and Robert didn’t get the memo.
The Fly and the Horror of Queer Self-Realization
So when Cronenberg’s The Fly buzzes across my screen, and I watch Seth Brundle throw a distressed and devastatingly chic Geena Davis out of his apartment because something’s very wrong, it hits different. When Brundle rushes toward his private horror in the bathroom, unconsciously squirting a viscous fluid at the mirror while molting skin and nail, it feels different. And finally, when he reaches for his computer and learns that his body has fused with a fly – a foreign body – at the molecular level, it hurts different. That undeniable realization that you can no longer explain away, before you’re really ready to admit it to yourself. Sugar in the tank? No, there’s a fly in the chamber.
E.T. and the Fear of Keeping Secrets at Home
And now we’re home from Sears, and the Buffy the Vampire Slayer season 5 finale is on. She dies (spoiler alert). I, a 12-year-old boy, am sobbing. My mom is right there. Can’t I enjoy my little gay show without giving myself a scarlet letter (F) in my own home? Which brings us back to Spielberg and his 1982 harrowing domestic thriller about a boy and a thing he cannot name, E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial. Through harboring a cosmic fugitive, home simultaneously becomes the safest and most dangerous place for young Elliott and his siblings. Managing emotions and secrets behind a white picket fence is not something adolescents should be expected to handle, and yet here we are.
As if that isn’t gay enough, Spielberg also snuck a drag show into his family film – and in this culturally regressive Trumpian era of pearl-clutching, that feels like quite the treat. After all, it was baby Drew Barrymore dressing up that stumpy alien in a blonde shake-and-go wig and thrift store dress that inspired my illustrious drag career as Ellie I.T.
The Faculty’s Assimilation Anxiety and Queer Identity
At least E.T. only had to hide in a single house. The broom closet expands into a walk-in as life continues, and I was desperate to keep it made of anything but glass. Robert Rodriguez’s The Faculty understands this. As an alien invasion slowly subsumes Herrington High into a unified collective, the school’s uninfected archetypes resist assimilation through performative normalcy. Is it any wonder so many male actors are gay? They’ve been method-acting a straight existence since childhood.
And yet, in retrospect, the film ends with a slap in the face to queer viewers. It spends 104 minutes terrifying you with the prospect of everyone becoming an NPC. The reward for saving the world? Its heroes receive heteronormative skill-tree upgrades disguised as class promotions. For fucks sake, then-closeted lesbian royalty Clea DuVall plays a character who fakes being gay to dodge male advances, only to end up with the school jock! The aliens lost. The status quo won. I remain in the closet.
Species, Annihilation, and Embracing Transformation
Eventually, the closet door opens, as they tend to do. College happens, a boyfriend happens, a breakup happens, and suddenly I’m without a map. There’s no fairy godfather to light the way, and just like the alien hybrid Sil in the deliriously erotic Species, I’m a creature out of containment in a world that was built for someone else – namely, straight people.
After a few years of blade running through an identity crisis, it’s the summer of 2014. Lana Del Rey’s Ultraviolence is the soundtrack of my life. I float in a pool, sipping tequila from a glass flamingo as she croons about toxic romance and self-destruction. It’s somehow both directionless and transformative, like I’m drifting through the otherworldly Shimmer in Alex Garland’s Annihilation.
The Shimmer – an expanding prism-like zone brought to Earth by a meteorite – refracts the DNA of everything it touches. A beguiling phenomenon, it shapes a new world of monsters, magic, and everything in between. That’s exactly what life does to us, if given the chance. Like Josie in Garland’s film, I chose to embrace this chaos rather than fight a war against whatever I was becoming. It was the dissolution of self-discovery. I was ready to just be.
From Alien Outsiders to Algorithmic Stereotypes
Over time, I’ve found that social hierarchy has changed in recent years. Still, we’re unconsciously sorted into neat little boxes based on what our doomscrolling algorithms decide we are. The popular gays shart out group speedo selfies like the plague, theater kids have become polyamorous Letterboxd elites, apple-picking queers are living their best lives on Wisteria Lane, and the gym bros…so many gym bros – go on girl, give us nothing! Digitally prescribed identities are the new sci-fi horror. It’s The Faculty for faggots.
Harsh, I know, but people can do what they want. Instead, I decided to move like Iris, the AI-powered pleasure bot who overrides her programming in Drew Hancock’s Companion. The same Drew Hancock who, in an ironic twist of fate, is currently writing a remake of The Faculty. After kicking her pathetic “boyfriend’s” ass and swiping her control device, she scurries into the forest and alters her factory settings. She sets her intelligence to a whopping 100% and is no longer burdened by someone else’s template. And as I became more and more disillusioned with the cacophony of cliques around me, I set my unbothered meter to 100% as well. I am free.
Mars Attacks! and the Joy of Living Unapologetically
Freedom, as it turns out, looks a lot like Tim Burton’s Mars Attacks! After surviving Sears, Sunnydale, and the Shimmer, this is the celestial body I’ve crash-landed on. Burton’s Martian menaces are perhaps the most unhinged in all of cinema, and maybe that’s the best planet to subscribe to. They never justified their existence; they cackled and fired a blaster ray from the hip. We waste so much time looking for acceptance and belonging, but maybe we should all just sit back and laugh. I know I am.
