Alien (1979)

Alien sees the isolation of space and social dysfunction used as a means for its titular monster to deploy a strategy of divide and conquer. This starts by throwing us far from Earth, aboard the resource towing vessel Nostromo. Even the opening credits convey the sheer distance between our ship and anything material.

The film does a good job of exposing the faultlines within our group early, clearly establishing Ripley as the most competent among them; the rest are a mix of surly, chronically annoyed, and stupid. She immediately recognizes they are still in deep space while the rest of the crew is insistent on contacting the, supposedly nearby, Antarctica traffic control. Ripley is also the only one smart enough to try to keep Kane off the ship once the creature has attached itself to him. If her command had been abided by, the crew could have potentially been spared. Much of this invites resentment directed at Ripley, creating social distance between her and her coworkers.

The alien is systematic in its confrontations, exploiting any separation of the group with precision. Brett dies after he, stupidly, lets the cat go and must retrieve it, alone. Dallas's fate is much the same, segmented away in the ventilation system. While Parker and Lambert are attacked together, the alien physically divides them, preventing use of the flamethrower. After some positively awful sounds, we turn the corner to see their bloodied bodies. Finally, Ripley is truly alone.

But our monster and story are not the only dimensions by which the film explores its themes. Modern CGI may be able to create grandiose, noisy visuals, but Alien is something else: a feast of tactile practicality set against the backdrop of deep, empty space.

Even the structure of the Nostromo, and even more so the alien ship, divides our characters from their true home.

The Nostromo as a structure, despite being their means of travel, helps create distance between our characters and their home; they’d rather be anywhere else. The alien ship creates an even more profound and unsettling sort of isolation. When looking at the strange labyrinthian structure, the question arises, "Do I even know my way out of here?" Despite being science fiction, our characters' tools are brutish and simple in their design and deployment, visually telegraphing the removal of a conventional strength imbued to humans in science fiction: technology.

Audio does a great deal in conveying the demise of Kane, Parker, and Lambert, with all three making agonized screams amidst sputters and gurgles. In terms of technological sounds, the clacking of noisy keyboards and flicking of switches fill the otherwise open and silent space. Also, our ship is accompanied by a low droning sound as it is ushered toward an unknown moon, with shots further out reminding us that the Nostromo is the noisiest thing around. On top of all that, the minimalist soundtrack does maximal work, echoing the void the film so successfully creates.

But amidst all this isolation and division, stood a call to a different battlestandard: unity. Ripley consistently tries to cooperate and communicate with the group, but is treated like a nuisance. She has a deeply ingrained "no man left behind" mentality; Ripley even risks her life to go back for the cat. In all cases, Ripley pulls to bring the group together, takes command when necessary, and keeps everyone on task. Her disciplined approach to survival is ultimately what keeps her alive. Parker rages, Lambert weeps. But Ripley remains focused.

With her final message, "This is Ripley, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off", she has declared that the alien may have divided but it ultimately did not conquer.

With a rock-solid monster and story, a captivating view of deep space, and practical effects galore, Alien is undoubtedly among the finest horror and science fiction entries available to any viewer.