The Thing

The problem with Hollywood horror movies these days is that they simply don’t scare us. Short of stealing from Japan, Thailand and South Korea or using surveillance camera footage of people moving with demonic speed, they make us laugh more often than lurch in our seats. Similarly, alien invasion flicks of late have been appalling, largely because of the silliness of the way the aliens look. Well, this prequel to John Carpenter’s 1982 film of the same name gets it right, delivering an unexpected bit of terror.
It’s 1982, and Norwegian researchers in Antarctica discover a massive spacecraft and an alien specimen that arrived with it, now encased in ice. Dr. Sander Halversen (Ulrich Thomsen) leads a team, which includes paleontologist Kate Lloyd (Mary Elizabeth Winstead, looking nothing like her Manic Pixie Dream Girl character in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World) and helicopter pilot Sam Carter (Joel Edgerton), to study it. When they bring the alien back to their base, it unexpectedly reanimates and goes on a rampage. They realize that it has the power to replicate life forms, and that any one of them could be the alien in disguise. Paranoia sets in as they fight off the menace and each other.
The Thing is a film designed to scare and does little else. Characterization is scarce, the only attempt at making it seem like it’s 1982 is a Men at Work song playing on the radio and it probably adds very little to the original film. What it succeeds in doing is keep you constantly on edge as you try to figure out how it’s going to unfold.
Much of the fear it generates comes from the rendering of The Thing. Without giving too much away, it borrows from supernatural and zombie horror in a way that will leave many using their cardigans as eye shields. Also, it is ridiculously loud—they really turn it to 11 in this film and the decibel level alone is enough to make your hairs stand on end.
Beyond that, The Thing is generally interesting and cliché-free (the black guy doesn’t die first, for one thing). It’s suspenseful and shows that successful horror doesn’t always have to involve Asian women with powdered faces.