The Red Circle

by Tom Nix

The Thing is, on the surface, about a team of scientists and engineers studying the climate in Antarctica. They come across a thousand-year-old spaceship in the ice, and unwittingly let loose a shape shifting alien who slowly begins picking them off. Sure, that plot doesn’t sound so revolutionary from the two sentence description. And that is okay, because it’s not about the plot, it’s about what the plot tells us about humanity.

This tight knit group of men is torn apart (figuratively and literally) by this creature. It’s entire modus operandi is to murder and mimic any living organism perfectly. It integrates into any society and destroys it from the inside.

It’s a miracle that the Thing landed in Antarctica. If it had landed in any populated area, the human race would be all but annihilated within a year. That is how unstoppable this thing is. It spreads as fast as the Rage virus (28 Days Later), but has zero side effects (well, except instant death) visible to the naked eye. Imagine how hard it would be to kill a loved one if they turned into a zombie. Then imagine how much harder it would be if the looked and acted exactly the same as they did when they were still themselves. There’s no way to tell the thing from the real thing until its too late.

And that’s a truly terrifying premise. But enough about the surface chatter. Let’s get down to why this film works. One reason is Kurt Russell. His MacReady is a rough and tumble man who is, for all intents and purposes, humanity’s last hope. If the Thing escapes, it dooms us all. John Carpenter uses this idea more than he falls back in the scares and shocks. But even when those come, they don’t disappoint.

The film contains one of the single best jump scares of all time. Telling here would be unfair. If you’ve seen it, you know. If you haven’t, be prepared. Who would have thought that the best scare in the film would involve petrie dishes? Also an important part of this film is Rob Bottin, the man (in his early twenties!) who designed all of the effects for the film. From the shunting pile of snow dogs to the most memorable operating table scene ever committed to film, his work on this film outshines everything else he’s worked on.

But what really drives this movie out of the park is the characters interactions with each other. The trust, and lack of it, is palpable. These are men that are locked in a life or death battle with themselves. How many films about an alien invasion barely focus on the alien? The film’s power comes from its actors fearlessness and its director’s brutal honesty.

That honesty is no more evident than in the films ending. It’s one of the darkest and hopeless in the director’s career. It’s a sheer surface level camaraderie in the face of total devastation. It’s the notion that there is no way for it to end any other way than badly. It’s just the scale of the badness that’s up for debate.

And that’s the best kind of movie. One that rattles you to your core from evocative storytelling, but still allows you the privilege to draw your own conclusions and write the story that moves you most.

John Carpenter’s The Thing is not only the best remake ever attempted. It is what every horror film should aspire to be. It’s the pinnacle of a genre. A cold, dark, bleak, terrifying masterwork. There will never be another just like it. And humanity is better off because of it… for now.

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