Chad’s Grade: C+
“Three is the magic number,” as the saying goes, except in the realm of popular film trilogies. Try as they might, filmmakers never can nail that third film that satisfyingly wraps ups a franchise. It’s a list that includes Superman III, The Dark Knight Rises, Blade Trinity, Return of the Jedi, and Spiderman 3. Even the masterful Godfather suffered with the middling Part III released in 1990. One thing many of these trilogy closers share was that they followed insanely successful sequels, putting more pressure on that third film to deliver.
And there’s no better example of the “magic number” curse than Alien 3, the visually stunning yet nihilistic third entry in the popular Alien franchise. The film was meant to be the finale of Sigourney Weaver’s iconic heroine Ellen Ripley, but the behind-the-scenes drama imploded what was supposed to be the series coda. The big challenge facing the production was that James Cameron gave Ripley the perfect send-off in Aliens, with no good reason to resurrect her.
The development of Alien 3 could be a movie unto itself, and the chaotic production has been the subject of many documentaries and articles. Under intense pressure from Fox Studios for an immediate follow-up, longtime franchise producers Gordon Carroll, David Giler, and Walter Hill met with many promising writers and filmmakers for concepts and ideas. Some storylines focused on Ripley, while others featured a new cast of characters. Everyone from David Twohy (Pitch Black), Renny Harlin (Die Hard 2, The Long Kiss Goodnight), and acclaimed cyberpunk author William Gibson (Neuromancer, Johnny Mnemonic) worked on the next chapter of the gooey alien bad guys.
There was even a version with Ripley crash landing on a planet made of wood (!), inhabited by a group of monks living a medieval lifestyle. The bizarre concept was from Vincent Ward, the New Zealand director of The Navigator and the Robin Williams fantasy/drama What Dreams May Come. The studio loved the screenplay by Ward and writer John Fasano, greenlighting the film immediately. But the producers pulled the plug weeks before filming commenced, fearing audiences would reject Ward’s stylized imagery and storyline.
In the end, producers Giler and Hill wrote their own script that retained the story idea of Ward, changing the monks to prisoners and jettisoning the strange wooden planet setting. In fact, Giler and Hill were still working on the screenplay when they hired (then) novice David Fincher to direct this new version. At that time, Fincher was a famous commercial and music video director known for his striking slick visuals. The producers were particularly impressed with Fincher’s work on Madonna’s Express Yourself and George Michael’s Freedom 90, two video masterworks with bold, atmospheric imagery.
Sadly, the turbulent writing process is apparent from the opening with Ripley, Newt, Hicks, and damaged android Bishop sleeping peacefully in their cryotubes following the events in Aliens. With no explanation of how they got there, Alien eggs hatch, and face-huggers creep over the cryotubes. When one of the face-huggers cuts itself on glass, releasing its acid blood, the cryotubes are dropped into an EEV that is sent hurling toward the prison planet Fiorina 161. Ripley miraculously survives the EEV crash, but Newt and Hicks are killed upon impact, with Bishop damaged beyond repair.
Alien 3 pretty much (ahem) alienated most of its audience during these opening credits, as watching Bishop, Hicks, and especially Newt getting unceremoniously killed off-screen is quite the gut punch. The beefed-up twist of secret alien eggs on the Sulaco is the first of many plot holes that cheapen Ripley’s sacrifice from the previous entry.
Once Ripley awakens in the backwater prison funded by her former employer Weyland-Yutani, the film reveals a starkly different look from its predecessors. Alien 3 is doused in orange and grey hues with a silver tint to the cinematography, and the repurposed sets from Ward’s wooden planet version give the production an almost medieval tone. Especially the all-male prison population with shaved heads (due to the planet’s affinity to lice) and bar codes imprinted on their scalp. While this ghastly lot has turned to religion courtesy of their spiritual leader Dillon (played with righteous vigor by Charles S. Dutton), the sly gaze they give this new “sister” amongst their ranks belies their murdering, rapist, and pedophilia crimes.
It’s an intriguing setup full of storytelling potential, but the majority of this new ensemble is so grotesque and unlikeable that they never connect. One of the great strengths of the previous Alien films was that Ripley was surrounded by well-defined and richly drawn characters. But here, we are treated to numerous scenes of prisoners sniping at each other, and the movie goes out of its way to show their incompetence in fighting the alien creature. Sadly, besides Dillon, the only sympathetic figure is Clemons, the prison doctor. In a warm, against-type performance by Charles Dance (of Papa Lannister fame from Game of Thrones), Clemons gives the alien series a new twist: a romance for Ripley. But barely 30 minutes in, both Ripley and the audience are robbed of the charismatic doctor when he’s brutally killed by the new alien.
Speaking of Ripley, as the famous face of the series, this entry finds Weaver lost in her franchise. The film is intent on stripping her down to the bone, removing her found family, stranding her among a group of half-crazed inmates, and shaving her brunette locks. But to what extent? Unlike Aliens, where she was battling her PTSD-based fears, Ripley has no story arc here. As an actress, Weaver is in top form, especially during a gruesome scene where Clemons does an autopsy on Newt’s dead body, ensuring there is no alien ingesting inside. It’s a cruel sequence, and Weaver conveys the horror of watching her adopted daughter being torn apart by human hands. Yet after the dour first act, Ripley slips into the background and offers vague hints on how to battle the alien creature, only resurfacing when she discovers a queen growing inside her.
With all these half-baked storylines from a constantly evolving script, it’s up to director Fincher to bring form and function to the proceedings. And he steps up to the plate, utilizing his cross-cutting editing style that would become one of his signature hallmarks. Dillon’s melancholic eulogy of death and rebirth during Newt and Hicks’s funeral is effectively contrasted when intercut with the chest-burster birth of the alien, this time from a rottweiler canine. And Fincher returns the franchise to its gothic haunted house roots, as the deliberate pace resembles Ridley Scott’s Alien more than Cameron’s action-heavy sequel. If anything, Fincher lenses a visually stunning movie, staging the film like a grand guignol opera with religious overtones. It’s no accident that Ripley, with her shaved head, bears a strong resemblance to Joan of Arc, utilizing imagery from the 1928 silent masterpiece The Passion of Joan of Arc.
And Fincher’s ambitions occasionally bring a spark of energy to the film. If you can suffer through the first hour, the movie rewards you with a dazzling chase finale. The director embraces his inner “Sam Raimi” and shoots the sequence from the alien’s POV, hurling his camera through the labyrinth hallways as the prisoners use themselves as bait. It’s like watching rats in a cage luring the cat to the leadworks, where they intend to douse this new, faster version of the alien (born from a dog) with hot, molten lead. It’s a thrilling sequence where Ripley finally acts like Ripley, fighting to keep the prisoners calm and focused as they try to destroy this leaner and meaner creature.
The action-packed climax culminates with the return of Lance Henriksen playing Bishop, not our beloved android but the creator of the “bishop” line. He’s the face of the Weyland-Yutani rescue operation and informs Ripley he’s as human as she is. Or is he just another android programmed to coax her into surrendering? Henriksen perfectly plays the duality of a company man, never tipping his hand. Even as Bishop II helplessly watches Ripley fall Christ-like into the molten lead, the Queen bursting from her chest. It’s a bleak, gruesome end to our iconic heroine, although the film closes on a haunting note as we hear the voice-over coda from Ripley at the end of the first Alien movie.
Alien 3 bombed at the box office upon its release in 1992. The movie was too much of a zig-zag from the action-heavy Aliens, with audiences divided over its dark and dour tone. And Fincher had such a terrible time making the film that he refuses to discuss it to this day. Fortunately, his fledgling directing career rebounded with his next feature, Se7en, amassing a filmography that includes Fight Club, Zodiac, The Social Network, Gone Girl, and Mank.
Personally, I wish the producers had kept the Vincent Ward wooden planet concept. I had the chance to read the Ward/Fasano screenplay, and it was a fascinating piece of work. Despite the bizarre setting, the script had better-defined characters with a chameleon-like alien that could adapt to its surroundings. It was full of quirky, unique set pieces that, once visualized, could’ve been a tour de force. If anything, it proves how vital the screenwriting process is to the art of making movies.
The Assembly Cut
When the producers were working on the Alien Quadrilogy DVD/Blu-Ray release in 2003, they invited Fincher back to do a director’s cut of his debut feature. But Fincher had long ago disowned the film with no interest in revisiting his famously troubled production. Instead, the producers dusted off Fincher’s “assembly” cut, which is industry speak for a director’s early cut to show to the studio after principal filming is completed.
Unlike Cameron’s director cut of Aliens, which had many substantial sequences removed, this 30-minute extended version of Alien 3 is lacking. The most curious change is that this alien is born from an ox instead of a rottweiler canine. We have additional scenes that flesh out the prisoners and their backstories, along with way more sermonizing from Dillon. But this makes Weaver seem like a supporting player in her franchise-closing film. Although we get some additional romantic moments between Ripley and Clemons, making his early death all the more frustrating.
There is one juicy subplot involving Golic (played by British actor Paul McGann) that I wish was kept in the final cut. In the theatrical version, Ripley and the prisoners attempt to trap the alien in an impenetrable steel bunker using fire to force it inside. But due to the clumsy antics of a faceless inmate, the fire is lit early, burning up all the fuel/grease and killing many of the prisoners. But in the assembly cut, they succeed in trapping the creature (thanks to the sacrifice of “Junior,” Ripley’s would-be rapist earlier in the movie).
But Golic starts to believe the alien is a holy messenger of God, especially after the monster killed his two comrades during that nonsensical candle-lighting sequence. Eventually, Golic goes to the bunker and releases what he believes to be a sign from God, where he’s rewarded with a killing blow to the head. It’s an exciting twist that informs the overtly religious themes of the picture and features a quirky performance by McGann.
Some defenders of Alien 3 try to paint the assembly cut as an improvement that saves the movie. But I prefer Fincher’s tightly edited and approved theatrical cut. While the added scenes are fun to watch, they don’t enrich the viewing experience. Thirty minutes of deleted scenes can’t solve the film’s deep storytelling flaws.
To close out this review, if you’re interested in Vincent Ward’s wooden planet/station version, here’s a short interview with the director and the producers that includes concept artwork of what could’ve been a wild “alien” experience.