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William Gibson (#110 of 2)

Ripley’s Got a Death Drive Alien³ at 25

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Ripley’s Got a Death Drive: Alien³ at 25

20th Century Fox

Ripley’s Got a Death Drive: Alien³ at 25

David Fincher’s Alien³ may be the only film ever made to peak with its logo. As the 20th Century Fox fanfare crescendos over the studio’s familiar logo, the music holds on the minor chord before the usual last note, replacing jubilant bombast with a dissonant groan of strings. The alteration produces an immediate sense of discomfort and unease, setting the tone for something ominous and fearsome. It’s an ingenious shot across the bow from Fincher, ushering in a feature career dotted with immaculately ordered, carefully scored works of blockbuster entertainment that veered from audience-pleasing major keys to their grim underbellies.

The perversion of the Fox theme epitomizes a succinct grasp of horror that only occasionally surfaces in the film proper. Too often, Alien³ shows its seams, whether in its thematic arc or the design of the xenomorph, and at not even two hours it still feels weighed down by unnecessary exposition and padded suspense scenes. But blame for much of this cannot fall at one person’s feet, as the film was notoriously the product of years of production hell that saw the studio soliciting wildly different drafts from writers including (but not limited to) cyberpunk author William Gibson, writer-director Vincent Ward, and producer/filmmaker Walter Hill. Eventually, ideas from each version found their way into a Frankenstein monster of a shooting script, one further plagued by endless on-set rewrites that left Fincher so exasperated that even Fox’s officially released behind-the-scenes footage shows the director railing against the pressures of the studio’s poorly planned project.

The Miracle Worker at Circle in the Square

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<em>The Miracle Worker</em> at Circle in the Square
<em>The Miracle Worker</em> at Circle in the Square

“I like to see a person’s eyes when I talk to ’em,” bellows Capt. Keller (Matthew Modine) to the bespectacled Annie Sullivan (Alison Pill) in act one of William Gibson’s ultimate weepie The Miracle Worker. Well, Captain, I like to see a person’s eyes—or at least face—when I watch them on stage, just one of many misbegotten aspects of this 50th-anniversary staging, now done in the round (the configuration of Circle in the Square’s last tenant, The Norman Conquests has been left intact), which means you get to see a lot of emoting occipital bones. Director Kate Whoriskey (who marvelously staged last year’s awards juggernaut Ruined) utilizes the entirety of the playing area, but aggravatingly—sometimes at key moments—you don’t feel a kinship with the players because they feel so far removed from you. How Ironic that a play about a woman trying to teach expressive qualities to someone differently-abled shields the viewer from truly experiencing expression.