Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Leaving the Lights Off

I've only just learned that Ridley Scott is making a prequel to Alien. I don't know how long this news has been out, but it was shocking to me. This comes on the heels of the revelation that infamously curvaceous video game character Lara Croft is being redesigned for a Tomb Raider reboot. Add to that the fact that the Coen brothers have filmed their own adaptation of the novel that originally inspired the John Wayne classic True Grit as well as the Ghostbusters III buzz I previously mentioned, and I start to wonder why we're resuscitating so many old franchises.

Let's start with Lara Croft and Tomb Raider. Why has this character endured? Is it because of her compelling story arc? Her deep and interesting personality? Is it because the games have all be good? Certainly not. What is the secret to her staying power? Look at the original game and, comparing it to later and more technologically advanced iterations, you're likely to find it difficult to see that jagged-pixeled sprite as the sex symbol Lara seems to have turned out to be. But, indeed, Croft's prolonged popularity seems to be largely due to nostalgia about what the character was when she first came on the scene. In that way, the franchise has propped itself up from one flawed game to the next, enticing us with unlockable bikinis and that remarkably persistent "naked code" rumor. With its reputation sagging, I understand the impulse to give new life to Tomb Raider, but I ask you this: how long can the series support itself on that first rush of fame? Furthermore, what story do the developers have in mind that could only be told by the Lara Croft character?
Write a new story. Create a new character. Lara Croft broke new ground, pulled to the fore something that had been sleeping in the shadows as the next generation of video games emerged. Instead of working on the new Lara, I assert that developers should be working on the next Lara, leaving Croft in her tomb and giving birth to a new hero who can revolutionize the game industry again and eclipse her. There is no sorrow in this. There is no shame. Croft or no, a bad game is going to fail and a good game is going to move units. Banking on the franchise's history makes it seem like the developers don't have faith that their product will be marketable if it isn't strapped onto the back of a recognizable character.

And thus I say, without prejudice, of Alien. The franchise is dead. It left an indelible mark and has an impressive legacy behind it, despite its decline. It left a pretty corpse, yes, but it's still dead. Craft a new tale, invent a new alien. Why write a prequel? When I watch the first film, which is probably one of the best films ever made, I see a perfectly-wrapped package. I see nothing from which to build a prequel, no backstory to work with. I can't help but think that this prequel will be forced. Of course, there is mystery in Alien. Where did the creatures come from? Who sent the distress signal? What is the history behind the huge pilot? These are all fascinating questions, and they have been tackled in fiction, both official and otherwise, but it's clear that the original film never intended to expand upon them. They were interesting because they were unexplained.
Obviously, this gets very deep into territory I could explore for pages, but my point is this: some territory is better left unexplored. Probe too far into a mystery, and it ceases to be a mystery, and the known is not nearly as exciting as the unknown. What the film industry needs right now is new mysteries, new stories. Sometimes, digging through the past and rewriting history can create new and interesting wrinkles in an already solid franchise. But, more often than not, more light into the dark only serves to reveal mysterious things as mundane and unimpressive.

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