I watched "Alien" on DVD the other night. I haven't watched that movie in a very long time. Of course, the scares associated with it are long faded, so I just watch it out of appreciation of Ridley Scott's former cinematic skill as a director (I say "former" because I think he's sold out a bit over the last decade or so). The movie holds up well, still looks futuristic, it's nice seeing those various actors younger, and the alien's monstrous as ever.
One amusement for me was how the lifeboat shuttle only can take three crewpeople -- this on a ship that has seven people aboard. That little details amused me. It's a space freighter capable of lugging 20 million tons of ore, and the Company puts one lifeboat aboard that can only handle three crew? That little detail speaks volumes about the Company's priorities, where the crew is concerned.
That's something I explore in some of my own SF stories -- a kind of "fuck you" attitude toward its astronauts on the part of the sponsoring agency. I like that sardonic flavor of it, versus the old-school "Men In SPAAAAAAACE" grandiosity of the 50s and 60s. I like the idea of the poor bastards being hurled into space and screwed over by the people who are ostensibly there to help them -- I explore that in my story, "Mission Control."
Anyway, I liked that little detail, along with the ship's computer, Mother, being all but nice and kind to her "children" among the crew. The mission's a setup from the outset, the Nostromo is intended to pick up the alien organism from the get-go. And I loved the voice for Mother (which you only hear on the auto-destruct sequence, as she counts down her own death with machinelike precision -- that moment always resonates powerfully with me. I like that detail, since it is just so inhuman and haunting). The voice for Mother isn't the typical sexy female computer voice, but rather, it's the carping, officious tone of a mean old matron -- you can just hear it. Again, Scott's attention to detail back then was wonderful, and yielded rich rewards.
Further, the age of the crew is a nice touch -- nobody's really young aboard the Nostromo. That is a great detail, this sense of mortality and age among a weary, worn crew. It wouldn't have worked if everybody was young and strong and pretty.
Also, I love how most of the crew smokes. In the close confines of a space ship (even a gigantic ore freighter), where oxygen is, at least in theory, at a premium, having them smoke was great.
