There seems to me to be some sort
of debate in the realm of cryptids and it relates predominately to
preference. A great many people will
believe in either Bigfoot (and other hirsute hominids) or in the Loch Ness Monster
(and other aquatic beasties) but not in both (we’ll leave things like the
Chupacabra and Mothman out of this for now).
The reasoning typically boils down to their thoughts on what sort of
organism could exist in what sort of environment and still manage to elude
capture all these years. Personally, I’m
open to the possibility that both exist, but I lean more toward the Bigfoot
camp (which should come as no shock to anyone).
It’s also been a source of humor that the only photos ever taken of any
of these creatures are always blurry, and I think that means something (the
blurry photos, not that they’re a source of humor). When the pictures are clear, they are
instantly suspect, as if the photographer got the animals to stop and strike a
pose for a moment (and since they’re supposedly not prepared for these
encounters, all the more questionable).
Yet, when they are blurry or indistinct, we tend to be more inclined to
accept the likelihood of their authenticity.
In the same way that something like the Zapruder Film is true in its
grainy, low fi style (it’s true because it actually happened, and this
presentation on film reinforces the reality of it) so is the Patterson Film
(and there are folks who still believe it to be real almost half a century
later, despite the allegations of it being a hoax down through the years).
In a time when people somehow
manage to whip out their phones and take photos and videos of horrifying
accidents and acts of violence (you know, rather than helping or doing
something useful, but that’s a whole different essay) that can hold up in a
court of law, is it only a question of time until somebody posts a video of a
Yeti jacking somebody’s car on Instagram or whatever? Either way, there’s a scene in Harry Bromley Davenport’s Xtro in which a couple (played by Katherine Best and Robert Pereno) drive by a bizarre alien (played by special
effects), and the way it’s filmed is reminiscent of the better cryptid photos
(the monster is seen fleetingly in the corner of the screen), and it’s
extraordinarily effective, even though it was most likely shot this way in
order to not have the makeup look silly or bad.
Interestingly, this idea is mirrored (and I freely admit that I’m making
this connection in my own head) in the character of Joe (Danny Brainin), who is a fashion photographer by trade and the ad
hoc father figure to Tony (Simon Nash),
whose actual dad, Sam (Philip Sayer)
was allegedly abducted by a UFO three years ago and has apparently come back
now very much a changed…person. Joe
deals in clarity and beauty for a living, and there’s a falseness associated
with this (as there is with all businesses that trade in glamour/skin/et
cetera) that marks Joe himself as false and unsuitable to ever truly be a
father to Tony (and moreso since he is ineffective outside his professional
expertise). By contrast, Sam is sketchy,
indistinct (he claims to not remember anything before the morning he appears on
Rachel’s [Bernice Stegers]
doorstep), especially in his first encounter with humans (mentioned above), and
that, to my mind, marks him as authentic, though whether it means he is a
positive force is another matter. Joe is
the fantasy of a normal life. Sam is the
fantasy of an extraordinary life. The
two can’t really coexist, and the latter is incredibly bizarre, but still, this
is one of the movie’s more intriguing aspects.
In this same way, the film is
centered on family in the face of trauma, absentee fathers, and replacement
family members. Tony spends a lot of the
first few times he’s on screen sweating and having night terrors. He even wakes up covered in blood (whose it
is, we never find out). The Phillips
family has been decimated by the disappearance of Sam, though the only one who
knows the truth of what happened is Tony, and this truth both links him to his
father and wreaks a terrible price on the boy’s body. In the wake of her original, normative
family’s disintegration, Rachel has tried to rebuild it with disparate
parts. Joe is supposed to replace Sam,
though Joe is never truly vested in that role, and he can’t handle it anyway
when push comes to shove. He cannot fill
Sam’s shoes (except possibly in the bedroom).
Analise (Maryam d’Abo) is the
live-in housekeeper. She takes Tony
where he needs to go, looks after the house, and so on. In effect, she is Rachel’s choice to replace
herself, since the family proper has been dismantled. Still and all, Analise cares about Tony only
as a job. Her attention is almost solely
on getting laid by her boyfriend, even to the point of doing it while she’s on
duty. That none of these replacement components
totally fits and this new family never really works is unsurprising, since the
underlying thought I got was that none of this was done out of love, merely out
of necessity. Rachel needed a man to
satisfy her, and she needed a woman to maintain the household. She abrogates her familial responsibility
because Sam left, and she is, at heart, a selfish person. When Sam returns, his focus is on Tony, not
Rachel, nonetheless she is willing and able to leave her ad hoc family for the
false chance at a new beginning with her old one. Naturally, this is destined for failure on
all fronts (and how; I should also mention that this film isn’t especially nice
to women in general). Sam is punishing
Rachel for not carrying the weight that was dropped on her, and she accepts
this punishment at every turn.
Now, I can’t say I liked Xtro.
The plot is nonsensical, and what is there is so thin it only has one
side. The acting is acceptable at best
(though, to get crass, d’Abo doesn’t
really need to show her acting chops off since she’s happy to show off her more
physical attributes). The characters are
all a bunch of jerks. Even the central
relationship of the film between Sam and Tony doesn’t completely work, since
these two are self-involved in the extreme (another major theme of the film
being adolescent wish fulfilment which applies to all the characters, age
notwithstanding). This film lives and
dies on (and appears to have been produced solely to showcase) its practical
special effects, and they work very well, all things considered. If nothing else, Davenport and company know how to stage and shoot effects
work. But even the effects have no
consistency. Sam goes through several
metamorphoses, none of which are explained, and none of which feel like organic
extensions of one another. These chunks
of latex rubber and goop and fake blood look good, and they have impact in
terms of being visually memorable in a “did you see that shit?!” fashion, but
they don’t resonate with any sort of lasting meaning or play any role in the
sense of narrative coherence. Being a
massive fan of effects, I give the film props for its accomplishments in that
area. Nevertheless, in every other area
it fails while trying to say something worthwhile, in my opinion.
MVT: The effects shine
throughout. They are appropriately weird
and offbeat, gory and slimy, and wonderful to watch on screen.
Make or Break: There’s a
famous (nay, infamous) scene (once aptly described by Fangoria’s Dr. Cyclops [if
memory serves] as a “white knuckler”) involving an unusual birth. I won’t say more, since it must be seen for
oneself to be believed. But wow.
Score: 5/10
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