[Body fluids] affront a subject's aspiration towards
autonomy and self-identity. They attest to a certain irreducable
'dirt' or disgust, a horror of the unknown or the unspecifiable
that permeates, lurks, lingers, and at times leaks out of the body,
a testament to the fraudulence and impossibility of the 'clean'
and 'proper.' They are engulfing, difficult to be rid of...(Elizabeth
Grosz, Volatile Bodies)
From the opening sequence of Jean Pierre Jeunet's Alien Resurrection
(Alien 4), depicting a human face in extreme closeup undulating
and rippling, an expansive mass of amorphous matter, it is clear
the form (or lack of form) that horror will take in this film. Before
going to see Alien Resurrection I was told by friends who
had already seen the film that a dominant characteristic of the
movie was its' 'wetness,' and indeed the aliens in this instalment
are significantly less solid than those of past productions. Their
slick exoskeletons drip and ooze viscid fluid, and they excrete
boundless quantities of transparent mucus from unknown orifices
and glands.
Like the first three instalments of the Alien series, much
of the tension in Alien Resurrection arises from a confrontation
with this gooey, undifferentiated, seeping matter. The film's lingering
shots of alien excreta point to the biological functions of the
alien body as a primary site of horror in the film, it's leakages
and expulsions a source of both fascination and dread. Like The
Blob, The Fly, and Scanners, Alien Resurrection
is a sci-fi horror film with 'abject body movie' written all over
it.
In Kristeva's terms the abject is that which threatens to cross
the boundaries which society uses to define itself as civilised,
such as the boundaries between inside and outside, order and disorder,
male and female, living and dead, clean and unclean, good and evil.
The abject is that which has been expelled or has dropped away from
the subject - has been ab-jected - and yet continues to exert a
certain control over the subject's self identity. Not surprisingly
encounters with abjection are usually characterised by feelings
of loathing and disgust.
In Alien Resurrection this fear of the abject body (familiar
to horror movie goers as the fragmented, dismembered, unclean, or
alien body) is paired with a less obvious fear of the feminine and
maternal. This is no big surprise really. As theorists like Mike
Davis have observed, the abject body is "a body that is vulnerable
and predisposed to change, a body that is not singular or unified,
that is not phallic - in short, the maternal body."
This observation is significant when you consider the Alien movies'
investment in narratives concerning biological reproduction and the psychic
bond between mother and child, themes which have
underpinned the development of the series since Ridley Scott's original
film in 1979. Alien 4 is no exception. For all intents and
purposes the film is a prolonged exploration of the reproductive
capabilities of the central character Ripley (Sigourney Weaver)
and her nemesis, the alien queen.
The film opens with a scene showing Ripley (or more specifically
a version of Ripley cloned from DNA recovered by the military) giving
caesarean 'birth' to an alien queen that had begun to grow inside
her body at the end of Alien 3. We later discover that the
queen has inherited certain human characteristics from Ripley, namely
the ability to give birth to it's young directly rather than seeking
host bodies in which to incubate the offspring. In turn Ripley has
gained the alien's increased strength and agility, as well as having
developed an almost telepathic empathy with her 'baby.'
Things get nasty later in the film when the alien queen gives birth
to her first alien/human hybrid child. In a surprising turn of events
the newborn baby turns on and kills its' mother, instinctively recognising
Ripley (it's 'grandmother') as its' 'true' parent. Within the symbolic
narrative of the film this act of alien matricide positions Ripley
as the new alien queen.
Of course a reading such as this is at odds with the narrative drive
of the film. After all, judged on surface appearances Alien Resurrection seems
like a positive feminist text, a film about a kick-butt female role
model who doesn't take shit from anybody. Approaching the Alien series
from this perspective several writers have discussed ways in which
the films might
be thought of as progressive in their depictions
of gender, and representative of a new gender-neutral cinema.
In his essay the The Implications of Generic Hybridisation in
the Alien Films Robert Wood has argued that the combat genre,
to which Alien Resurrection is closely aligned, presents
no inherent obstacle to the an equality of the sexes, where the "natural
oppositions are not between men and women, but between allies
and enemies."
In this reading the Alien films give form to a futuristic
scenario in which differences between the sexes have been significantly
eroded, a tendency clearly embodied by the androgenous character
of Ripley, who in each instalment displaces the authority of male
crew and colleagues in order to overcome the alien threat. This
female appropriation of power is explained in the films by Ripley's
progressive masculinization, where an array of absurdly oversized
machine guns and flame throwers stand in as blatant substitutes
for the absent male phallus.
In Wood's analysis this display of "female courage in the male
style"
is seamlessly integrated into the homogenous sexual politics of
the narrative - as soon as she starts gunning down aliens Ripley
becomes one of the guys. However, I would suggest that Alien
Resurrection's investment in images of the abject (and alien)
body points towards the possibility of a significantly different
interpretation. In their pre-occupation with the horrific nature
of abjection the Alien films might in fact be seen to
contradict the superficially homogeneic relationship between
their characters,
suggesting instead a social relation grounded in sexual difference.
In particular the films' pointed obsession with the figure of
the dominating mother (Ripley, the alien queen) suggest a fear
of female
power, a paranoia trip which finds its' explicit realisation
in Alien Resurrection.
In one significant scene the terrified crew member of a hijacked
space cruiser awakes from cryogenic deep-sleep
to learn that he has been impregnated with the embryonic baby
of one the alien queen, and will give 'birth' in a few hours.
In
a pointed role reversal Ripley takes sardonic pleasure in
informing this unwilling host that she is the mother of his
alien 'child,'
- the symbolic masculine invader of his body.
If we are to treat the Alien films as a symbolic narrative
about unconscious fear of the maternal body, then we also
have to consider how audiences are able to reconcile the image
of our testosterone
enhanced heroine (Uber-Ripley) with an otherwise patriarchal
ideological text. Mike Davis suggests that the answer can
be found at the end
of the films, in the final confrontation between Ripley and
the alien queen. By killing the queen, her symbolic other
half, Davis
believes that Ripley is vanquishing the figure of the archaic
matriach, the 'bad mother,' thereby relenting her masculine
power and assuring
a return to the established patriarchal order.
This is particularly clearly illustrated in the closing sequence
of Aliens 2 depicting Ripley and her adopted daughter
Newt asleep in their cryogenic chamber, a striking image
of Ripley's
re inscription within a masculine order as the reassuring
face of femininity - as Davis observes, "recumbent,
passive, castrated."
In Alien Resurrection Ripley kills her mutant and
abject alien/human `grandchild' in order to save the
cyborg Annalee
Call (Winona Rider), easily the most human and feminine
of the film's
characters, and therefore a suitable surrogate child
to replace the lost alien. In essence this effects the film's
closure
by repositioning
Ripley within a traditional patriarchal ideological framework
as the 'good' mother, but, it must be noted, much less
convincingly that in the earlier Alien films.
Throughout the movie Ripley's nurturing and empathetic
emotions are
clearly directed
toward her
two alien `children,' the alien queen and its' own offspring,
the alien/human hybrid.
For me the introduction of the cyborg character Call
is the one thing that really sets Alien 4 apart
from the earlier films, perhaps even ultimately subverting
a straightforward
reading of
Resurrection as a one-sided anti-feminist text. The
first female cyborg to appear in the series, Call
embodies
the
potential
for a sophisticated interaction between humans and
machines which points
the way toward new possibilities for the representation
of gender within Alien 4.. When Call plugs
into the computer network of the collision bound spaceship
on which Resurrection is
set, what at first appears to be yet another image
of violated physical boundaries (she literally mainlines
the electronic
information, sticking a jack directly into her arm)
is transformed into a
potent image of the dissoluion of identity at the hands
of the information
network. Injecting herself into the system (and vise
versa), Call gives a new twist to Alien's obsession
with liquidity and formlessness. Echoing Harraway's Cyborg
Manifesto in
this scene information technology is a fluid attack
on the solidity of identity, an onslaught on human
agency.
This
is the viscous
return
of nature as circuitry, a self-regulating system of
which man is merely a function.
From the moment the alien/human baby kills its' birth
mother and recognises Ripley as its' 'real' parent,
the possibility
of a
clean resolution to the film and a return to established
order is negated.
When the survivors return to (mother!) earth in
the final sequence of the film, a planet they variously
describe as 'beautiful'
and
'a shit hole,' the impossibility of this closure is confirmed.
"[Cyberfeminism's] flows breach the boundaries between man and
machine, introducing systems of control whose complexity overwhelms
the human masters of history. Secreted in culture, it's future begins
to come up on the screen, downloaded virally into a present still
striving , with increasing desperation, to live in the past." (Sadie
Plant, Beyond the Screens)
Jonathan Nicol
6 March 1998
Resources
This piece of writing draws heavily on Mike Davis's essay What's
the Story Mother?: Abjection and Anti-Feminism in Alien and Aliens
Also available online and worth checking out are Cross
Talk: The Implications of Generic Hybridisation in the Alien Films
by Robert E. Wood and Baby
Bitches from Hell: Monstrous Little Women in Film by Barbara
Creed I also recommend Beyond the Screens: Film, Cyberpunk and
Cyberfeminism by Sadie Plant, Varient No. 14, Summer 1993, and
Volatile Bodies: Towards a Corporeal Feminism by Elizabeth
Grosz
|