In Space, No One Can Hear You Weep!

“OK, let’s take one deep oxygenated breath and slowly exhale. Here, have some water, savour the refreshing hydration, just tip the fluid slowly, you’ve secreted enough fluid already. Are you suitably placid now? Good. Take a seat and continue with your laboured respiratory and make a concerted effort to stunt your excitement. Yes, yes I’m optimistic about the prospect too but for the moment I think it would be better for you take an absence from further exultation that may not necessarily be conducive to your already fractured, cognitive fluctuations. Remember what happened before? All right, OK! I’m sorry, I apologise, it’s still too soon. Look just recline back in the sofa, get a good nights repose and we’ll discuss the implications of Alien Isolation in the morning……”

Sorry I was a little distracted there, I was just putting my childhood excitement into a state of nocturnal paralysis, because as promising as Alien Isolation appears in full spread of gregarious publications, with intervening editorials that embellish the creators abbreviated assertions that only enhance the salubrious nature of the article, I have certain reservations regarding its existence. Lest we forget the rather auspicious humility we were being furnished when Alien: Colonic Marine (which is the official title) was gestating, and how the finished product differed greatly from original contentions that extracted the calculable proficiency and brutality of the titular antagonists, substituted the mildly perceptive interlopers for lumbering, inert marauders that lacked any cohesive structure or strategic formation? Of course I didn’t expect them to be deciphering algebraic calculations or discovering how the script for Prometheus wasn’t sent flailing helplessly into the vacuous emptiness of space. But I also hadn’t anticipated their aggressive incursion to become stunted by mild, environmental obstructions that protruded approximately 2 inches off the ground, becoming consigned behind the clandestine impediments and dance the macarena!

“I understand you’re an intergalactic menace with a reputation to maintain. But its cold, put on the sweater.”

We would have been better served if we’d opened the case for Colonic Marines only to discover a face-hugger smuggled inside. Secreting its projectile acid into my eyes, I lay inverted and blinded by the viscous acidity, clutching my cauterised ocular’s and weeping sulphuric tears, my assailant is ready to consummate our brief association by latching on to my rectum and forcefully impregnating me via my anus! That’s right; I’m so averse to playing Colonic Marines again, that I would rather be rectally inseminated with an aliens seminal fluid. (Which is a sentence that should never be uttered ever again!) I’ve watched the trailer, which is largely replete with stock footage from its cinematic contemporary, and though details remain reticent, images and interviews certainly boast a redemptive abundance of promise. It’s certainly crafted visuals of riveting authenticity that accurately reflect the movies their adapted from. With monotonous architecture both rigid and cerebral, bereft of hospitality that feels so confined that you would be mistaken for thinking you had been incarcerated. Every sinew and melded metal construct that convoluted through your environment appears cold, almost ceramic as if one jostling nudge will shatter its brittle structure. With every room feeling accentuated by evocative computers and panels studded with incandescent lights. The Nostromo’s architectural degradation seems to have been seamlessly recited, if not visually present, that its difficult not imagine weaving through the thicket of discontinuous computers and guiding the motion tracker  to expose any innocuous, pestilent organisms and marshalling the courage to proceed to less illuminated pastures of the ship.

“Never, under any circumstances dare an Alien to eat curry! The result is very messy!”

But I’ve been duped by the indomitable assertions of previews, remaining benign to the little voice in my head that pleaded with me to hinder my expectancy. But I failed to heed my rational subconscious and paid an infernal price for my reluctance. Though preliminary examinations corroborate the assumptions that this will finally provide the Alien experience we’ve yearned for, ever since John Hurt tremulously asserted how he could not wait to return to Earth to eat some decent food, before an insurgent exerted itself through the now open cavity in his chest. I’m not suggesting Isolation will be the mitigating failure demonstrated by its predecessors, on the contrary the visuals alone appear impervious to even to the xenomorphs coagulating haemoglobin. But cursory indolence to further hype already exacerbated by fans is certainly advisable, especially considering previous titles that were so hollow and bereft of any considerate respect for the source material, that did nothing but confirm just how obstinate Aliens is in comparison. It is of course to soon to speculate, and the likelihood is that Isolation could be in development limbo for years yet. But hopefully once the acrid stench of its insubordinate parentage has addled and the corrosive smoke of decreed cynicism has settled, we wont be lamenting another failed execution, but evaluate with “mostly” adulating appraisals…..Mostly.

Let me know what you think of the upcoming Alien title. Cheers.