To some degree, it is strangely gross in its supply of its beauty, the obviousness of which may account for its popularity. As she helps the alien, she has to continually control her yearning for a lost one and suppress the need to connect with his genetic copy in the form of Bridges. Nitzsche pulls off another of his quirky compostional coups by simulating the synthetic minimalism of Carpenter while infusing it with a pseudo-orchestral thickness which does not shy away from the film's emotional drive. The end scene takes place in a huge crater in the middle of a desert which is the site for the aliens to retrieve the alien-Bridges. Karen Allen clutches him tightly as they hover in a dimensionally warped space deep inside the crater.
Light is unworldly, gravity is reversed.
They passionatley embrace, consumed by emotion, all the while knowing the profound depth of their unrequitable love. Again, another portrait is struck of beings trapped elsewhere, lost in the music, swirling in sound, pictured in a heightened state of listening, as the film score engulfs them and us. Philip Glass' minimalist quagmire is a deliberately excessive concotion of boom, gloom and doom. It plays with deafening density, like an orchestral machine whose every control is set to full energy level and incapable of being turned off. Far from experiencing the luxury of transcendnce, the films' oppressed denziens of exploited cultures are coloured with a helplessness courtesy of Glass' music which casts them out of balance with the film score.