Top-drawer science fiction.

Rating: 9/10 (4 March 2006)

There are some movies that qualify for the definition 'classic' and this is surely one.
Carpenter has made a number of interesting horror/suspense movies, but it is THE THING that truly ranks as his masterpiece.
The plot is almost as old as the creature. A group of people go somewhere isolated, stumble upon something very nasty, and seem powerless to deal with it. But it is also a bit of a who-done-it, leaving the viewer to second-guess which amongst a group of suspects might be the real villain. A nice little job for Poirot.
The story unfolds with some Norwegians in a helicopter chasing a runaway dog into an American Antarctic research station. After a brief skirmish both are killed. Two of the American team then fly-off to investigate the Norwegian base a few miles away, unaware that the enemy - in the form of the dog - is now already within.
What they find at the Norwegian base is chaos and death, and a grotesque artifact burned and frozen in the snow. They bring it back.
The artifact must be seen rather than described, and gives rise to one of those truly classic moments. It is placed on an examination table in the medical facility and unwrapped to the bald explanation 'we found this'.
'This' is not clearly seen. The camera shifts at about waist-level between the tightly clustered men, switching between tantalising glimpses of bizarre anatomy and expressions of shock and disgust amongst those assembled. One feels like a child struggling to see beyond a crowd of grown-ups, which heightens the sense of vulnerability. What can be seen is slowly thawing-out; it glistens and drips, as chilled vapour rises.
The undoubted star of the show is Rob Bottin, for this and many other frightfully disturbing effects. They are all the more remarkable for a movie that predates computer-generated imaging. What you see is pretty-well what you get: shocks and gore a-plenty. During my first viewing in 1982; when the infected dog's head split open, someone actually ran out of the cinema.
The movie unfolds with sustained periods of slowly-building tension inter-spaced by moments of almost hallucinogenic monstrosity. As it gradually becomes evident that this thing could be anyone, members of the group no longer trust each other. That, and the stifling intimacy of small rooms and narrow corridors add to a sense of paranoia.
Carpenter employed Ennio Morriconi to provide the music score. This was a wise choice because Mr Morriconi is able to dilate upon the simple themes of horror and suspense in the way that only a professional musician can, evaluating the impact that events may have upon the broader spectrum of human feelings. There is a particularly well-rendered piece during the flight to the Norwegian base, in which the helicopter is seen in long-shot against the huge expanse of frozen wilderness. The music is weighted with string instruments and imparts a sense not so much of horror as one of tragedy and despair - which is what this organism truly represents beyond our own simple fears: the utter destruction of all life on earth.
And where there is no music, there is the endlessly moaning wind.
The set pieces are simple and entirely believable, from the cheesy common-room where you can almost smell tobacco and stale socks, to the dank frost-bound storage areas. The wrecked Norwegian base is sublimely executed. Notice the pink tinge around the block of ice from which the original fossil was apparently cut, hinting of organic tissue and unpleasant circumstances.
This is, strictly speaking, a 'B' movie. It contains no 'stars' except perhaps Kurt Russell. But because of their unfamiliarity on screen, the other actors are all the more plausible as ordinary people. They are aptly chosen and play their parts with understated conviction. Radically, it is an all-male cast, so there is non of the 'romantic' digression expected in most other movies. You are given nothing else to consider but the creature and how to deal with it, just like the actors themselves. This focuses thought and draws you into their dilemma.
Horror aside, if you're into thought-provoking science fiction, this is the stuff. The most disturbing element for me was the realisation that such an organism could exist. An anti-virus: this is one that instead of changing host cells into copies of itself, rather assumes a similitude of the organism instead, thereby also inheriting its intelligence. Such a thing could leap 4 billion years of evolution with just one single infection. Imagine HIV with a 3-figure IQ; truly, the stuff of nightmares.
I've docked a point because I am fed-up with Hollywood helicopters that apparently can't hover. The Norwegians could have done this and simply shot and bombed the dog to hell. I also think that someone on the American team would have considered putting the animal into quarantine, at least until more was known. After all, the Norwegians would hardly be chasing it for fun. It might perhaps have had rabies. And all animals - including humans - have fleas, lice, or just skin mites. These would likewise be infected and infectious. Then, being nosey, I wanted to see inside the spaceship. Finally, check-out the scene where the monster has absorbed the other dogs and throws-up two big arms to punch a hole in the roof. As it hauls itself up, you hear the sound of a squeaky winch or block-and-tackle, which one suspects is what they used to lift it; but whoever forgot to oil the wheels also forgot to edit-out the noise.
The quirky ending suggested a sequel, but - for whatever reason - it never happened (good job Sigourney Weaver wasn't in it).
Don't dwell on my nit-picking though; this is definitely a collector's item. In half a century, movie buffs will still be talking about THE THING.