The Thing (1982):
The Thing (2011):
It feels almost silly to write about this movie, seeing as it’s been widely agreed upon as one of the best of its kind for over forty years now. But after revisiting it and its less-than-stellar 2011 prequel in a back-to-back taste test, I was induced to sing its praises yet again. So, consider this a twofer.
Hailing from Buffalo, NY, I was raised in what many would consider an arctic-adjacent environment and, as such, have always felt a kinship for snowbound stories. If anyone has ever enjoyed the sound of snow falling, you’d know there is as much peaceful tranquility as there is potential for menace. You feel at once cozy and isolated, a witness to an elemental force beyond your control that can muffle life itself with its icy indifference. Carpenter’s real genius is his ability to synthesize this ethos into a form that instead takes aggressive action.
From the very opening sequence, you understand the desperation of the men who have endured the nightmares this creature can bring, but without firsthand knowledge of it as an audience member, the anticipation begins to mount. From there, it builds relentlessly in a masterclass of escalation. Each segmented reveal of the Thing’s capabilities introduces some new horror to contend with, like a blizzard that slowly encircles you in a whiteout.
Admittedly, a lot of why Carpenter’s version succeeds is in being the first. (Yes, I’m aware of the 1951 The Thing From Another Planet, which has its own charm but is very proto for my purposes). The concepts and executions of the creature in this movie are legendary and have had a lasting impact on body horror, science fiction, and genre filmmaking in general. I wouldn’t envy director Matthis van Heijningen Jr. having to recapture lightning in a bottle in 2011- indeed, how does one surprise an audience with a secret that’s been out of the bag for years? Unfortunately for him and his prequel, you largely can’t (especially with a heavy reliance on CG effects). Instead, you’re left to expand upon the concepts already present, as if to say, ‘okay, we know it can do X, but we didn’t get a very good look at that last time so let’s showcase it now.’
And right there, you’ve lost half the battle since everyone knows a good horror movie skillfully withholds as much as it reveals. This is another way in which the original is superior: Not only do we, as an audience, lack the same information as the characters but we are also denied full transparency of their own actions as well. Conversations are shown only in part, reveals of infected characters are done in silhouette or off-screen entirely. We very plausibly can’t say for sure who did or didn’t do something or who saw who running around camp in the dark. It forces the paranoia inward toward the viewer, who is left to their own devices in identifying the imposters. Conversely, the 2011 version is content to eschew the guesswork, resetting the reveal clock every few minutes in a roll call of unsurprising cannon fodder. There isn’t much tension to be built when the entire raison d’etre is to back your way into the beginning of a much better story.
To that end, I also wondered if there was merit in watching these in story order which illuminated another issue- you know your prequel/reboot/whatever is in a bad way when it also saps vitality out of its predecessor. There is nothing gained and much lost in placing the 2011 version ahead of the 1982 one. One of the original’s best sequences is MacReady and Hooper’s visit to the Norwegian camp- specifically because we don’t know what happened. Again, with the revealing/withholding dynamic, it’s a lot creepier to be left wondering how things ended up like that than to be shown outright. And since the prequel’s characterizations are so uninteresting, as if they know everyone’s going to die, so why bother, there’s not even any thrill in the whodunnit. All you’re left with is a bingo card of a movie that unenthusiastically checks boxes that were foregone conclusions, to begin with.
To bring this to an obvious point- if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, and after over forty years, John Carpenter’s classic is as strong as ever. If snowy horror is your vibe, look no further than this total champion. Many have copied it, and few have succeeded, but Carpenter, Kurt Russel, and cast, cinematographer Dean Cundey, composer Ennio Morricone and effects wizard Rob Bottin all coalesced at the height of their powers to create a lasting and still-shocking masterpiece of horror cinema. An airtight script, an immaculate attention to detail, rich characters that are well-directed, genre-defining practical effects, gorgeous anamorphic visual storytelling, the best dog performance literally ever, and one of the coolest title cards ever made. This movie has it all.
Long live The Thing! (But skip the prequel.)
The 1982 film was a classic and as you noted, a “masterclass of escalation.” That’s a great way to describe it. I hope anybody who suffered through that 2011 film at least saw the original version as well. I would not want anyone to go through life thinking the prequel was the only “Thing” ever made! Even though Carpenter obviously had a few more dollars to play with budget-wise than when he made “Halloween,” he still managed to do more with less. In a confined, restricted, darkened space, he made yet another taut, tense masterpiece.