Hating to Love Our Monsters

"A construct and a projection, the monster exists only to be read: the monstrum is etymologically ‘that which reveals,’ ‘that which warns’…”

            -Jeffrey Jerome Cohen, Monster Culture (Seven Theses)

Understanding that monsters are meant to reveal something inherently human whilst inhabiting an inhuman form makes Ridley Scott’s Alien (1979) a particularly disturbing film.  Monsters are no exception to the IA Richard’s manifesto: the alien demands to be utilized as a machine to think and demands to be extended beyond the screen.  Consider Thesis VI of monster theory:

            “Thesis VI: Fear of the Monster is Really a Kind of Desire:

The monster is continually linked to forbidden practices, in order to normalize and to enforce.  The monster also attracts.  The same creatures who terrify and interdict can evoke potent escapist fantasies; the linking of monstrosity with the forbidden makes the monster all the more appealing as a temporary egress from constraint…we distrust and loathe the monster at the same time we envy its freedom, and perhaps its sublime despair.”

This reading is simultaneously terrifying and satisfying considering the overtones of eroticism.  Reading the film in the context of the social-cultural atmosphere of its release, there is something to be said about the time’s fear of sexuality and STDs.  Perhaps more so than that, Alien reflects our desires as our culture to push the frontiers of science.  Consider the “dying” words of the mission’s android and science officer Ash, who represents the ideologies of an entire corporation from afar.  In describing the alien aboard the ship, he admires the alien while the others are utterly horrified, professing eerily:

“You don’t understand what you’re dealing with, do you?  Perfect organism.  Its structural perfection is matched only by its hostility…I admire its purity.  A survivor, unclouded by conscience, remorse, or delusions of morality.”

Ash, through the directives of Mother, wishes to aspire to the unrestricted scientific exploration that the alien embodies.  The implantation of Special Order 937 by Ash via Mother’s orders states that the number one priority is containing the alien, and that everything else is secondary.  In particular, it explicitly expresses that the “crew is expendable.”  This idea horrifies the human passengers of the Nostromo, but it encapsulates a mindset that perhaps could have saved their lives.  Rippley in particular is clouded by these delusions of morality: immediately after Ash shares his sentiments, she strays from her primary objective of preparing to blow up the ship and attempts to save Jones, the cat.

Similarly, modern science is encumbered by ethical standards.  Both human and animal participants are handled with delicacy in experiments, and often must sign lengthy legal contracts in order to take part (interesting how the crew is forced into exploring the transmission due to a contractual obligation).  These ethical standards, however, don’t translate to alien life.  Ridley Scott constructs an alien that is an erotic parasite that aligns with a science fiction trope: when alien life comes in contact with human life, they themselves dissect and probe human beings to learn of their “alien” nature as human begins would dissect and probe them in the name of science.  In Alien, it was the humans that were first strangers on an alien ship, and it is the ship’s prime directive to contain the alien in order to further the human race through science.  The alien invades the human body as a medium for asexual reproduction to further its own race. 

Alien blending into the Narcissus

The idea of the alien blending with the crux of scientific exploration can be readily understood through the alien’s ability to maneuver throughout the ship by blending in with the Nostromo’s environment.  In all of its intermediate and mature forms, the organism hides in vents, nooks, and crannies throughout the Nostromo and even hides aboard the escape shuttle, the Narcissus.  The organism’s ability to camouflage with the ship not only strengthens his representation of the aspirations of Mother and Ash, but underline the key difference between the humans and the alien: humans change their environment to suit their needs, while the alien adapts to the environment to suit its needs.

Another strong indication of the desire of science to detach from delusions of morality is Rippley’s escape.  She destroys the Nostromo, which is Italian meaning “shipmate,” and escapes aboard the Narcissus, which alludes to the Greek mythological character and the origins of narcissism: the pursuit of gratification via vanity.

The Fall and Rise of Icarus

Sunshine poses an interesting discussion of the human inclination to put faith in the mirage of information provided by hubris.  This historically persistent issue of inflated perception is presented immediately as we learn that the ship’s eponym alludes to the figure of Greek mythology, Icarus.  This tale of an attempt to pioneer the sky gone awry has been an inspiration for dozens of artistic works across a vast spectrum of mediums, including a poem by William Carlos Williams that is particularly relevant to a reading of the film: "Landscape With The Fall of Icarus".

The motif of eyes and perception throughout the film pushes this reading.  Along with an emphasis on character’s eyes and further eye symbolism scattered throughout the film’s mis-en-scenes, the representation of the Sun and Icarus as eyes and their relationship to one another translates to humanity’s inadequate dependency on perception.  After gazing at the Sun at 3.1% of its brightness, the mission’s psychologist describes the experience:

           

            “It’s invigorating.  It’s like taking a shower in light.  You lose yourself in it…the point

about darkness is you float in it.  You and the darkness are distinct from each other

because darkness is an absence of something.  But total light envelopes you.  It becomes you.”

What is fascinating is that even the man whose duty is to understand the working of the human mind is intoxicated with hubris.  While it is true that darkness is indeed the absence of light, he fails to acknowledge that at 3.1 percent brightness, an overwhelming 96.9 percent of light is still absent.  The process of decision making throughout the film is plagued by the crew’s inability to recognize the whole of the situation.  With each decision, the crew celebrates the perceived success but then feels the repercussions soon, if not immediately, after.  For example:

-The discovery that it is plausible to adjust the path of Icarus II and visit the Icarus I is soon soiled by the negligence of certain data in the recalculations and the ship is damaged.

-They decide that, in order to perform maintenance on the ship the angle will be realigned, believing that Communication Towers 3 and 4 are a necessary sacrifice (ironically…think about it…).  When they are destroyed as expected and the panels are repaired, the Communication Towers end up igniting the oxygen supply unexpectedly.

While this appears to be a scathing diatribe of the human condition, it also speaks to the sacrifice of life for the sake of life itself in a dynastic cycle and prescribes action.  As stated by Albert Camus, it is inefficient to simply recognize these deficiencies, but rather it is a necessary first step forward:

“Accepting the absurdity of everything around us is one step, a necessary experience: it should not become a dead end.  It arouses a revolt that can become fruitful.”

The character that embodies this mindset in the film is the mission physicist Robert Capa.  He acknowledges that it is beyond the capacity of the human mind to take into account the overwhelming amount of variables.  He states that he may as well be flipping a coin and guessing heads or tails, but proceeds to attempt to make the most informed decision as possible.  He also recognizes the sacrifice that is necessary in order to perpetuate life in the face of uncertainty.  In addition to the symbolism of eyes, there is a heavy symbolism of rotating circles that seem to conjure the idea of cyclical motion (for instance, the Communication Towers on the Icarus and in the oxygen room).  The dynastic cycle rotates around the idea of the Mandate of Heaven, of rulers acquiring and losing the Mandate.  Evidently, a similar situation arises in Sunshine, and problems arise because Pinbacker refuses to give up the Mandate after recognizing that humanity and life are as meaningless as dust.  Capa is the antithesis, relinquishing the Mandate, recognizing his humanity, and being determined to sacrifice it for the next generation of life.  The dynasty concept also seems to account for the drastic change in the film’s overall tone as the cycle progresses forward and the volatile, violent stages begin to manifest and become explicit.

Bringing it back to the poem “Landscape With The Fall of Icarus,” the sacrifice of the lives of those aboard of the Icarus are insignificant and unrecognized if we succumb and balk at the idea that life is absurd.  But rather, “According to Brueghel / when Icarus fell it was spring.”  The fall of Icarus due to his pioneering attempts in the face of human inadequacy brought the regeneration and the rebirth of life for future generations in conjunction with his own demise.  It is unfortunate that, within the absurdities of life, Icarus’ sacrifice is “a splash quite unnoticed.”  Thinking back to the symbolism of the Sun and the Icarus as eyes, it makes sense that when the payload is deployed, the curve of the solar panels on the fleeing empty ship inverts and faces away from the sun.

It’s also appropriate that in Sunshine, life is preserved for the moment because of Icarus II.  We must continue to push forward into a future of uncertainty, where the only certainty is our mortality.  Aboard the Icarus and throughout life, we cannot choose whether or not we die, but we can choose whether or not to perpetuate the cycle of life and death, death and life.  It is when we attempt to break the life cycle (here’s looking at you Pinbacker) that life becomes an obsolete straight line.

Sunshine observes that the system is absurd and that we must participate.  Keeping the in mind the image of Mace’s death after he gets caught in the mainframe and playing off the famous speech by Mario Savio, it is not a matter of throwing oneself upon the wheels and levers of life in order to make it stop, but it is a matter of throwing oneself upon the wheels and levers of life in order to make it continue.