THE BLACK SHEEP is an ongoing column featuring different takes on films that either the writer HATED, but that the majority of film fans LOVED, or that the writer LOVED, but that most others LOATH. We’re hoping this column will promote constructive and geek fueled discussion. Dig in!
LIFEFORCE (1985)
Directed By Tobe Hooper
Off The top of the dome, can you name the movie Tobe Hooper directed right after POLTERGEIST? Struggling much? Here’s a multiple-choice: A). INVADERS FROM MARS. B). LIFEFORCE. C). THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE 2
Alright, pencils down. The answer, of course, is LIFEFORCE (WATCH HERE / OWN HERE), a silly, sexy, gory, expensive, extremely fun, and supremely slept on FX-driven space-vampire film that almost nobody talks about when mentioning the sterling portion of Hooper’s four-decade oeuvre. Here’s a really solid sci-fi/horror film made for $25 million in 1985, yet failed to earn even half of its budget back in total worldwide grosses ($11 million), including a paltry $4 million opening summertime weekend. The abject commercial failure of the film certainly hurt the movie’s exposure, especially since it features nearly an entirely British cast with no big-name movie stars outside of Patrick Stewart in a glorified 18-minute cameo.
Critically speaking as well, the movie registered as a mere middling affair far below the halcyon days of Hooper’s first three or four feature films. Yet, the movie has nearly everything a horror fan could want: high quantities of grue, sexy vampirism, gratuitous nudity, mummified zombies, and wildly violent FX-laden action on Earth and in outer space. The cartoonish grotesquery remains fun because it's never too serious. While Hooper’s POLTERGEIST partner Steven Spielberg was busy landing 11 Oscar nominations the same year for THE COLOR PURPLE, Hooper’s film was discarded and forgotten about. LIFEFORCE is a F*cking Black Sheep if ever there was one!
Based on the Colin Wilson novel “The Space vampires,” the screenplay was adapted by the late great Dan O’Bannon (ALIEN, RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD). Apparently, O’Bannon did not like Hooper altering his script (and the novel) to incorporate Halley’s Comet as the source of malefic alien life, but considering how the real comet was set to pass Earth in 1986, one year after the release of the film, I can see why Hooper made the decision. Still, even Colin Wilson publicly stated he disliked the final film. Regardless, the story picks up when a joint U.S./U.K. space crew happens on a mysterious spacecraft filled with giant bat-like creatures floating in a dormant state, almost like cocoons. When they find a stunning nude female humanoid dubbed affectionately Space Girl (Mathilda May) asleep in a glass sarcophagus, they bring her aboard their craft for observation. However, upon immediate contact, it becomes clear that Space Girl is a seductive vampiric alien-succubus that literally sucks the LIFEFORCE out of unsuspecting victims, who are often ogling males enraptured by her gorgeous figure.
Worse yet, when Space Girl subsumes the life out of the various crew members, they’re left for dead as desiccated mummies full of nothing but sand and dirt. Little do the remaining survivors know that these dried-up slabs of zombified jerky will soon reanimate as vampires themselves and continue the life-sucking process on those yet infected. As the amorphous Space Girl breaks free and shape-shifts on the run through London, the British military and team of astronauts put a bumbling plan in play to stop her reign of terror ASAP. A fiery cataclysmic spectacle ensues, leaving London in a ruinous state of deadly disrepair. Beyond May's mesmeric presence, one standout scene includes the first male-to-male transfusion in which the practical FX of the life-sized dummy is combined with the VFX of swirling lightning bolts shooting out of the alien's mouth, allowing him to grow stronger as his enfeebled victim slowly morphs into a gaunt skeleton. Another occurs when the alien-being reverts back to its natural state as a large deformed bat-monster (seen below) upon causing more Panic in London than a goddamn Smiths track.
Beyond Mathilda May’s obvious assets, what I love about this movie is the way it leans so heavily on practical and special visual FX to induce terror in the viewer. I’m not saying the latter hold up extremely well 35 years later, but they certainly don’t ruin the movie by any means, and more often than not, still play pretty well today. You can tell Hooper is having a blast with a bigger budget than he’s ever been afforded on his own. The mix of practical FX used for the mummified ghouls are still quite a sight to behold, harkening back to some of the work Hooper did on THE FUNHOUSE. To wit, cinematographer Alan Hume (RETURN OF THE JEDI, FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE) delivers rich photography throughout the movie, using all sorts of cool neon light filters and strobe-work Hooper has been known for in the past. The atmospherics of the film is both visceral and frightening in ways many outer-space movies are not, nor even attempt in many cases. Adding to the sensorial terror is Henry Mancini’s score which has an epic scope but also induces legitimate unease in the more intimate scenes involving sexy-ass Space Girl and her inimical intergalactic ire.
Another reason I feel the movie is a F*cking Black Sheep is how Hooper never got to exhibit his original director’s cut. The film was originally submitted as a 128-minute version featuring far more gore than the released version, as well as the full Mancini score. The longer version also opened with a 15-minute dialogue-free sequence of the Churchill Spacecraft floating in through the cosmos, which prompted Mancini to agree to score the film in the first place. An additional cut was trimmed to 116 minutes released in the UK but was once again neutered down to a 101-minute version for the U.S. release. The flick is still highly enjoyable as is, but the promise of what could have been makes the movie seem even more of a disrespected effort. Then again, it’s a minor miracle the film was even completed, as production was shut down at least once after Hooper and crew ran out of money. The shooting schedule was originally slated for 17 weeks, but ended up taking 22 weeks to complete. Even Patrick Stewart, who replaced John Gielgud at the last minute, wasn’t cast until filming was well underway.
While there's a bit of truth to the notion that LIFEFORCE doesn't quite add up to the sum of its parts, that the ending doesn't really justify the means, the high-points are too damn enjoyable to deny while you're in the moment. In many ways, it's Hooper at his most playful, leaning into the big-budget FX-laden entertainment first, while setting out to scare the audience second. He doesn't always succeed at both, but when the overlap occurs (usually involving May's seven-minute screentime), the result is pretty badass. Unfortunately, the lack of success ended Hooper's big-budget directorial career. He'd spend the next two decades post-TEXAS CHAINSAW 2 and INVADERS FROM MARS as an effete direct-to-video maven with only glimpses of his halcyon-day brilliance. A shame, as a more successful reception of LIFEFORCE may have kept Hooper atop the directorial A-list.
No matter how you slice it, LIFEFORCE is a F*cking Black Sheep of a forgotten 80s horror flick from one of the most esteem genre writers and directors of all time. I might be a Black Sheep as well for liking it more than most, but in terms of Tobe Hooper’s studded filmography (not to mention Dan O’Bannon’s) LIFEFORCE deserves far more love than it received at the time of its release and the lack thereof it’s culled in the 35 years since. Released on June 21st, 1985 as a summer blockbuster, the film failed to resonate among the masses despite its arresting FX-driven marvels, bat-shite crazy outer-space atmosphere, and sexy vampiric onslaughts punctuated by the hypnotic seduction of Ms. Mathilda May. I’d even go so far as to argue that LIFEFORCE is Hooper’s sixth-best feature film behind THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, POLTERGEIST, EATEN ALIVE, THE FUNHOUSE, and SALEM’S LOT.