Original and best

Rating: 10/10 (11 July 2016)

I first saw "Alien" the day after it opened, knowing very little about it except that the cryptic TV commercial for the film looked cool and its advertising slogan ("In space, no one can hear you scream") was compelling. Sigourney Weaver and Ridley Scott were mostly unknown and the rest of cast, while recognizable, weren't typically headliners in highly anticipated Hollywood releases. This had "B-movie" written all over it, and in many ways it is very much a B-movie made with A-list skill, craftsmanship and imagination.
It's impossible, all these years and several viewings later, to separate myself from my first experience of watching it. I can't forget that I nearly jumped back a row, to the accompanying screams of a nearly full theatre of moviegoers, during the now-famous chest- bursting scene. The iconic imagery of the film -- the sensuous design of the alien ship, the ominously large corpse of the alien spaceman fused to his giant perch with bones bent outward, the unknowable originality of the titular creature and its unpredictable life cycle, the lived-in character of the commercial towing vessel Nostromo ("Star Wars" excepted, in most depictions of space travel at the time everything had a factory-fresh gleam) -- all became almost instantly iconic and influential for a reason. Having experienced this film's introduction into an unsuspecting world, it's not possible to look at it through the eyes of contemporary film fans who come to it later and might judge it by a different standard.
All of which it to say, I admit to being incredibly biased in my assessment of how well "Alien" holds up despite the considerable advances in visual effects since it was made. What looks a bit dated today is the depiction of the on-board computer "Mother" and the bizarre blinky-light room in which it is housed. Most of the rest of the tech depictions are fine, mainly because the story doesn't rely on whiz-bang futuristic tech to propel it. The basic (and, alas, inadequate) weaponry with which Nostromo's crew tries to contain the alien was understandable then and now, on a non-military vessel with a civilian crew. The surprise reveal about the true nature of one of the crew members still makes sense against the backdrop of corporate shenanigans in which the crew operates. Dan O'Bannon and Ronald Shusett's story carefully constructs the sense in which the deck is stacked against our heroes in ways they don't fully grasp until a few of them have died, and it does so mainly by making the crew anything but heroic. These are ordinary workers who snipe at each other and complain about their pay and try to advance their place in the hierarchy the way workers everywhere do, and maintain an uneasy camaraderie and mutual respect despite workplace tensions that are eminently relatable.
A lot has been written about this film as a metaphor for both male and female rape and the predatory nature of sexuality. While the film's design is stuffed with incredible sexual imagery, I'm not really sure what that analysis gets you. "Alien" is essentially a very effective, beautifully shot horror movie set in outer space. It employed and helped solidify horror movie tropes we're all familiar with. It's not afraid to take its time to build atmosphere, character and suspense, which might (but shouldn't) try the patience of people used to the faster pace of current films. To me, it was and remains an almost perfect movie.