I can’t help but wonder how the executives at Universal agreed to greenlight The Thing:
“Remember that John Carpenter flick from ’82 about the alien in Antarctica?”
“You mean The Thing? The one that was a complete failure, critically and commercially?”
“Exactly—let’s remake it, virtually shot-for-shot!”
“Genius!”
“And we’ll give it the same title, but call it a prequel!”
“Brilliant! How much do we need?”
“$35 million ought to do it!”
At least, that’s what I assume they were saying, in between huffing aerosols and chewing on cardboard.
The story this time around is basically the same as it was the first time. A team of researchers in Antarctica discover an alien being buried in the ice and take it to their base for examination. The creature breaks free and begins wreaking havoc on the terrified scientists. But wait—the alien can shape-shift and imitate its prey, which means that anyone could potentially be the monster lying in wait. The researchers become hostile and suspicious of one another, devise ludicrous tests to confirm one another’s identities and, of course, torch everything in sight with flamethrowers.
So it’s not exactly the same as Carpenter’s version—which was itself a remake of the 1951 film by Howard Hawks, based on a story by John W. Campbell Jr.—but the differences are negligible. In fact, when it comes to The Thing, plot details are wholly irrelevant. This is a run-of-the-mill creature film, and the plot is simply a vehicle for disposing of forgettable characters. The deaths are grisly but are hardly shocking, and the CGI effects are paltry at best; it’s a monster movie, but the monster doesn’t even look good.
The Thing does not have a single redeeming quality. However, for all of their persistently idiotic decisions, none of the characters ever have sexual intercouse with the creature—more than we can say for last year’s Splice. And for that, it deserves at least one star.
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