Squeamer

By RICHARD SCHICKEL

THE THING

Directed by John Carpenter

Screenplay by Bill Lancaster

Science, or anyway science fiction, marches on. It seems only yesterday (though actually it was 1951) that the Thing was nothing more than James Arness dressed up to look like a rutabaga with legs, galumphing around an Arctic research station, scaring the wits out of its personnel. Now the scientists' camp has moved to Antarctica, and the Thing is no longer a thing. It still comes from outer space, but instead of being a monster, it is a kind of infection worming its way into animal forms, turning them into monsters.

There are only a few moments, however, when the Thing can actually be seen going about its transforming business. Unquestionably, these changes are colorfully horrific, state-of-the-goo achievements for the new Hi-Glop school of makeup effects. Once an individual has been successfully invaded by the Thing, he quickly reverts to his previous form. Thus after the Thing has been at large for a while, it is impossible to determine whose body has been snatched for evil, whose has not. This leads to a certain amount of paranoia. But not to as much suspense as the good basic idea might lead one to expect.

In previous films, like Halloween and The Fog, Director John Carpenter has proved himself adept at a kind of minimalist spookiness. It is a mistake to do away with that huge and unreasonable vegetable and the scary possibility that it may be lurking behind every closed door. A deeper problem is that Carpenter's people are not strongly or wittily characterized (though Kurt Russell makes a stalwart hero). Not caring much about them, one's attention fastens on the Thing's spectacular depredations. When it invades a body, a man's guts may open and snap shut, taking a bystander's hands off in the process. Or a head may come loose, sprout insect legs and toddle off across the floor. Designer Rob Bottin's work is novel and unforgettable, but since it exists in a near vacuum emotionally, it becomes too domineering dramatically and something of an exercise in abstract art. The weird lad down the block, the one who is always fooling around with his chemistry set, will love The Thing. The rest of the neighborhood is likely to find it more of a squeamer than a screamer. -- Richard Schickel

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