John Carpenter Deconstructs The Uncertainty Of Fate In The Thing

A lot has been discussed already regarding the film's universal and timeless themes. Some say that Carpenter's classic is an allegory to communism, considering the time it was made in. While others speculate on its deeply ambiguous ending. The only film that I could think of in the horror genre that's generated as much debate from its fans even decades later, is the 1980 film The Shining. But more than anything, John Carpenter's meticulously directed film acts as a reminder of how uncertain man's fate is, in this vast universe. Carpenter said in an interview after the film's release, "I made a really gruelling dark film, and I just don't think audiences in 1982 wanted to see that. They wanted to see E.T., and The Thing was the opposite of E.T."

Based on the 1938 novella Who Goes There? by John W. Campbell Jr., The Thing unfolds like one of those famous Agatha Christie stories you've heard of. But at the same time, Carpenter remains faithful to Campbell's intangible vision and gets into the human psyche of the characters. Right within the first few frames, he masterfully sets the anticipation required to carry the rest of the film. A Siberian Husky is chased onto the site by the last two surviving crew members of a nearby Norwegian camp. We then meet our twelve central characters, each with a distinct personality, enough to throw them in odds with one another. MacReady, our protagonist, (Kurt Russell) is one of two helicopter pilots. There's also the pothead Palmer (David Clennon); the pensive doctor Blair (Wilford Brimley) and Copper (Richard Dysart), a medic with a nose piercing – Clark (Richard Masur) is the dog handler, and he most certainly has some of the most interesting scenes in the film. Speaking of dogs, this film has got to have some of the best dog-acting there's ever been on screen, if that's a thing. All the twelve characters seem social enough towards the first act of the film, but they're not yet aware of how things are going to change from there on. This is one of those few films, apart from all the loud comic book movies out there, where the entire world is at stake. And one, that does full justice at living upto those stakes.

Ennio Morricone's score perfectly winds up the suspense in the film. In fact, Carpenter also added some electronic inclusions in post-production, to accentuate that effect. There's truly some of the best use of percussion ever made in the horror genre. These days, we see some genre subverting films that seem to garner much attention. But let's be honest, most of them come across as a jumbled mess of pretentious ideas thrown onto a pre-existing template. The Thing can be viewed in different genres, and it works almost perfectly in each of them. The sci-fi element is just limited to the alien-spaceship aspect of the story. Besides that, if you remove the gore element out of it, the film's a straightaway claustrophobic whodunnit thriller. By the end of the film, it makes us start questioning even our protagonist. The film sets him up as a loner, unable to process or accept loss, so what if he actually is The Thing? Would that fulfil his character arc? We don't know. And that's the recipe for a film that feels hermetic and constantly unpredictable. One which never loses the audience because it's always throwing us into one suspenseful scenario after the other. In one of my favourite sequences in the film (and in the horror genre overall), Mac ties down all the crew members, takes their blood samples and spreads their blood to a wire heated with his blowtorch in order to find who The Thing really is.

"What I didn't want to end up with in this movie was a guy in a suit," said Carpenter in reference to his vision for The Thing's creature.

The Thing has some of the best use of juxtaposition in the horror genre, not just in its cleverly quick-witted characters, but also in when and how it chooses to reveal The Thing's true identity. And of course, how could one not talk about the brilliant use of practical effects and puppetry done in the film? Artist Rob Bottin sumptuously combines the use of practical and visual effects. The slime used in the film was actually made from K-Y Jelly. The creature crawls underneath one's skin and wraps-up a victim with malevolent intent. Director of photography Dean Cundey manages to capture some of the most iconic shots ever put to a film. Him and Carpenter constantly surprise us with entrances and angles that cannot be explained by the practical geography of their shots. The Thing, almost 40 years later still keeps the viewers riveted despite the pervasive gloom of its story and climax.