As ‘Alien’ turns 45, that scream still echoes through space and time

As ‘Alien’ turns 45, that scream still echoes through space and time

“In space, no one can hear you scream.”

“Alien” premiered with a memorable line of advertising in June 1979. Still, science fiction fans being what they are (see “Star Wars” and “May the Fourth”), the film’s de facto anniversary comes this weekend this, in the form of an April 26 rerun as a nod to the mysterious moon featured in the original film, known as LV-426.

Few experiences are more memorable than the night (and early morning) I spent in director Ridley Scott’s haunted house in space 45 years ago, in a way that underscores how movies, and movie-watching, have changed in the long and strange journey since then. .

I went to see “Alien” on its opening weekend with my brother, knowing very little about it. Then again, all we could rely on in those pre-Internet times were reviews in our local paper, the Los Angeles Times, and frankly, its critics didn’t do much to reflect my teenage tastes.

Driving into the Avco cinema in Westwood near UCLA, we immediately noticed a long line for tickets wrapping around the theater and heading down the block. No, no advance sales and no ability to select your specific reclining seat with one click from the comfort of home.

The film itself (and it seems ridiculous to say this, but spoilers ahead) subverts expectations by having a female member of the Nostromo crew, Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver), emerge as the ultimate survivor, while the captain, played by Tom Skerritt , was among the early victims.

As it happened, at 10.30pm. showing that we intended to see – and thought we had arrived early enough to catch – sold out about five people before we reached the box-office window. After waiting all that time, we bought tickets for the 1 am show, and no, we didn’t have a cell phone to call home and tell my mom.

The film’s intensity – beginning with a gut-wrenching scene (literally, if you think about it) where the aliens enter it – holds the audience spellbound, building towards what is perhaps the funniest moment. seen in the theater.

At the end, when Ian Holm’s character is revealed to be an android in a violent and chaotic sequence filled with spurting white liquid, a young woman, who has apparently seen enough, begins to flee towards the lobby. A young man, possibly her date, yells at her, “It’s just a robot,” and without missing a beat she yells back, “I don’t care if it’s a rubber band!” In a much-needed release of tension, the entire theater erupted in laughter.

After the movie ended, we staggered out into the completely empty streets (it was now after 3am) and took what felt like a very long walk back to our car. I didn’t realize that poor Ripley would experience the horrors of the future – and more xenomorphs – through a trio of sequels, or that “Alien” would actually spawn an enduring franchise that would bring us another film, titled “Alien: Romulus,” the final this year. The film marks the seventh in the series, which sits between the original and director James Cameron’s acclaimed 1986 sequel.

As absurd as some aspects of that first “Alien” sound are now, it remains etched in my memory, and parts of it, like waiting in line, certainly evoke a sense of anticipation and excitement.

In modern times, Hollywood has struggled to make moviegoing seem like a party. Yet in the 1970s, with films like “Jaws,” “Star Wars” and “Alien,” they seemed to emerge almost organically, producing screams, whether of joy or horror, that, like those memories, had echoes across space and time.