aliens

Did you know that in the year 2001 we conquered long-distance space travel, achieved nuclear disarmament, and handed over the entire world’s sovereignty to the United Nations? Me neither, but I was really into shitty rap-rock & sneaking even shittier beers at the time so I might’ve been too distracted to notice. Needless derision aside, you really do have to admire the optimism of Journey to the Seventh Planet’s version of 2001. Years before the moon landing, the end of the Cold War, and, hell, even JFK’s assassination, the film felt like the world had its whole life ahead of it. Journey supposed that by 2001 we’d have a good enough handle on space travel to make it all the way to Uranus (sadly not pronounced the fun way here), but instead by that time we’d never made it past the moon and a lot of people were listening to Limp Bizkit.

Journey to the Seventh Planet did get one thing right, though: the universal appeal of 60s era pin-up girls never truly faded. The film tells the story of a small, all-male (of course) rocketship crew who journeys to Uranus (teehee teehee) and discovers that it looks an awful lot like California wilderness. This similarity is not only a frugal cost-saving measure, but rather part of a super cool plot device in which a nefarious alien spirit hypnotizes the rocket crew and brings their subconscious visions to life. During the atomic age opening monologue about the end of the arms race and the world-governing UN, a narrator warns “There are no limits to the imagination and man’s ability to make reality out of his visions is his greatest strength.” Apparently this extends to the visual re-creation of California forest & breathable air, but that’s not all. As the crew is composed entirely of lonely, horny, red-blooded space travelers, their hallucinations begin to take the form of voluptuous pin-up models who lure them away from safety one at a time so the alien spirit can try to hitch a ride back to Earth in their stupid, horny bodies. It’s pretty damn adorable.

The pin-up models and a forest covered Uranus are the most unique aspects of Journey to the Seventh Planet, but they’re far from the movie’s only charms. There’s also a plethora of adorable atomic age sci-fi staples like model rocketships, dinky rayguns, science babble about “atomic units” & “retrorockets”, and strange green lights that give the film a less-artsy Planet of the Vampires feel once the illusion is broken. The hypnotized men also conjure up images of stock footage “giant” spiders and stop-motion Harryhausen-esque cyclops lizard monsters that are legitimately pretty awesome. There is no shortage of cool ideas and goofy practical effects in Journey to the Seventh Planet and I much prefer its space alien pin-up version of 2001 to the much more depressing Limp Bizkit reality. I honestly believe that if it had chosen the much more memorable title Journey to Uranus it would have a much larger cult following, if not only for the juvenile giggling it would be sure to induce.

-Brandon Ledet

There’s a pretty significant lie in the title of Alien Outpost. It’s the false promise that there might actually be some aliens in the film from time to time. If you wanted to attempt some truth in advertising a more appropriate title would be Dickhole Soldier Outpost or Operation: Naptime. Posed as a sub-Blomkamp “documentary” about the militaristic consequences of a near-future alien invasion, Alien Outpost has the feel of a warfare video game that features way too many thoroughly unlikeable soldier bullies idling their time and not nearly enough aliens brutally murdering them. It’s what I imagine Battlefield Earth would be like if you spent most of the runtime with the rat-brained man animals and Travolta only had a small cameo.

The aliens in question (known as “heavies” here), aren’t particularly interesting (especially in light of that Battlefield Earth Psychlo comparison), but they’re far and away the most entertaining element in a film where entertainment is in short supply. They’re tall, grey, humanoids who are running desperately low on laser “ammo” and are being hunted by American soldiers in a Middle Eastern outpost that I’m sure is supposed to call up metaphorical comparisons to the Iraqi occupation or something along those lines. Both that metaphor and the general nature of “the heavies” remain frustratingly undefined as the film focuses on the endangered, yet trivial lives of the soldiers stationed at Outpost 37. As the movie puts it, “This is the story of the men fighting a war the world has chosen to forget.” Unfortunately, the men mentioned there (and, by extension, the movie that surrounds them) is just as forgettable as the war. More of the grey, ill-defined “heavies” would be a blessing compared to what’s actually delivered.

The Blomkamp documentary format is a lot of what’s wrong with the film on a structural level, as it tends to tell instead of show (like showing more aliens for instance). However, its main fault is that none of its ideas are well-developed enough to be memorable. The only moment that suggests an intricate exploration of its world is when a soldier is temporarily paralyzed by a bite from a “numb bug”, an invasive species of insect that infested Earth after hitching a ride here with the “heavies”. More original ideas specific to this world like the numb bugs would be appreciated, but are few & far between. The film instead focuses on far-from-compelling soldier dicks when it should find more of a fascination with the alien beasts that are trying to kill them. There’s nothing particularly new about the soldiers or the heavies compared to other sci-fi action flicks, but at least a movie focusing on the heavies would have a much better chance of being entertaining.

-Brandon Ledet

Swampflix

New Orleans film blog & podcast

Journey to the Seventh Planet (1962)

Alien Outpost (2015)