The Comic Critic Reviews Alien

I saw Alien in 1979 when I was a foreign exchange student in Japan. Because we attended school six days a week, the only time I went to the movies was Sunday afternoons. You’d think that the theater would be crowded, but such was not the case because our hamlet got only one new movie a month. By the time I had a Sunday afternoon to myself, Alien had been in town for a while, and I was one of half a dozen people there. Some might describe Alien as a “horror” film, but I classify it as a “terror” film. I remember walking out into the bright sun, my skin still buzzing from the chills and thrills of the movie, feeling very disassociated from the warmth of the day, oddly enhanced by feeling out of my element in a foreign country. I’d felt this way once before. I was eight or nine and had just seen an afternoon television broadcast of The Last Man on Earth, starring Vincent Price. As the blue skies tried to warm the deep chill in my bones both times, I thought, “So this is what it means to have the friggin’ daylights scared out of you.”