THE THING FROM ANOTHER WORLD Explained: Horrors of the Past

It is hard to say. The Little Shop of Horrors, The Day of the Triffids, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, or finally The Thing from Another World are films that share one element – horror takes the form of pods, tubers, flowers, or a humanized carrot in these films. Perhaps the answer is banal and simply refers to the ecology-promoting message, which is meant to suggest that harming the ecosystem may soon turn against humanity. It may also be about the classic hyperbole, aiming to exaggerate a defenseless organism into an aggressive form, in order to present the heroes with a truly unusual adversary.

No matter how you look at it, it is noticeable that the science fiction of this period primarily served creators and audiences to release deeply rooted fears. As we remember from history, the 1950s and 1960s were very uncertain times, paralyzed by fear. On one hand, there was the civilizational development that allowed humans to soar into Earth’s orbit and, shortly after, set foot on the Moon. On the other hand, technology and the events of World War II, with a focus on what happened in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, contributed to the start of a dangerous game for dominance, known as the Cold War. The world was then divided in half – into the capitalist and communist blocs, that is, into freedom, democracy, individualism standing in opposition to political and cultural totalitarianism. With a large degree of convention, one can notice that this division still persists today.

The Thing from Another World is therefore another science fiction film built on the fear of a sudden attack from the unknown. Aliens in SF works, particularly in those years, had two tasks – symbolic and literal. Symbolically, they referred to ourselves and our differences, diversity, and the dark sides of our psyche. Literally, they represented the threat that could come from space, which, due to advancing research, became such an enormous, boundless area that it reduced Earth and its inhabitants to the level of an anthill. In this way, the anthropocentrism embedded in Judeo-Christian culture, which for centuries assumed that everything, including the Sun, revolves around mankind, was effectively disproved. While, in reality, it was exactly the opposite.

This may cause fascination, but at the same time also fear. The Thing from Another World takes viewers to the freezing zone of the South Pole. A meteorite has fallen near a research station. A team consisting of soldiers, scientists, and a journalist is heading to the site of the celestial body’s fall. They find a crashed spaceship along with its pilot. After thawing him, disturbing things start happening at the station, as the being, resembling a plant in appearance and physiology, displays aggression towards humans. Almost immediately, an ethical conflict arises – some believe that the being is a threat and should be eliminated immediately, while others see it as an opportunity for a groundbreaking scientific discovery.

The Thing from Another World thus tells of a certain dualism of attitudes that emerged during the Cold War. I have already mentioned the political division, but in this case, we are dealing with a division between proponents of risky but significant scientific progress for the development of civilization and followers of cold, ruthless militarism, intended to ensure humanity’s safety. Once again, the historical context must be recalled – The Thing from Another World is a film made during the so-called Red Scare, that is, the paranoid fear of communism. In his book Danse Macabre, Stephen King himself noticed in the 1951 film the apotheosis of the United States as the savior and defender of the world against the threat from the communist bloc in the East. It is undeniable that in the depiction of scientists in The Thing from Another World, one can see the reflection of this very paranoia, which plagued American society at the time. No one questioned the need for scientific progress, but as history showed, it could lead both to development and to destruction. It all depends on how we pull the strings of our curiosity.

The personification of Cold War fears here is the alien. Maintaining the chronology of the science fiction genre, The Thing from Another World is the first film telling the story of an invasion by an alien race from space, specifically from Mars. The Day the Earth Stood Still premiered in the same year, but a few months later. The War of the Worlds, which is the prototypical concept in this case, was adapted two years later, in 1953. It is also worth emphasizing that The Thing from Another World has its literary counterpart, the 1938 short story Who Goes There? by Joseph W. Campbell, a prominent publisher of Astounding Science Fiction, in whose pages many SF writers debuted.

Many later directors fond of fantasy regarded The Thing from Another World as a prototype film and a source of inspiration. Notable creators such as Ridley Scott, John Frankenheimer, Tobe Hooper, and of course John Carpenter mentioned the 1951 film as a determinant of their work. As we know well, in 1982, Carpenter revisited his youthful fascinations, adapting them in his own way. Thus, the memorable film The Thing was born, another milestone in the development of the genre, and actually of genres, as it is a perfect example of a film combining science fiction with horror. A distinguishing feature of the remake is the departure from political allusions and the focus on a shapeshifting version of the alien, which took the story to new heights of terror.

This terror is also felt in the original. An interesting fact is that the monster (clearly and consciously referencing the appearance of Frankenstein’s monster) appears in the film only after an hour of the screening. Before that, the film’s time is spent on lively discussions about the significance of the event, at the center of which stand the characters. While the alien lies safely in a block of ice, the characters find time for conversations, jokes, and even flirting. This is a very peculiar feature of The Thing…, as it significantly colors the experience of the film, giving it a clearly social character. These are also elements characteristic of the director’s style of this exceptional work. And who is he? I purposely left this information for later, as it requires a separate explanation.

As it turns out, the matter of directing The Thing from Another World remains ambiguous to this day. Although Christian Nyby’s name appears in the credits, historians agree that the actual and decisive influence on the shape of this spectacle came from the producer, who was none other than Howard Hawks himself. However, James Arness, the actor portraying the being, disagreed with attributing the direction to Hawks, noting that although Hawks spent a lot of time on set, Nyby was supposed to direct the film. The ambiguity of this situation was also felt by John Carpenter, who once admitted that in 1971, he asked Hawks who actually directed The Thing…, to which Hawks replied that he had only given Nyby a few suggestions and didn’t get involved further in the direction. Carpenter, however, noted that over the years, Hawks began to take more credit for directing the film, which, if we look closely, bears many more of Hawks’s trademarks (especially in narrative style) than Nyby’s later works.

The significance of The Thing from Another World for SF is unquestionable – we already know that. But one more element of the film left its lasting mark on culture. This refers to the last line of dialogue, spoken by the journalist reporting on the events at the research station, in order to inform humanity to now keep watching the skies. This line (along with Klaatu barada nikto from The Day the Earth Stood Still) instantly became a cult quote, a kind of slogan, frequently later used in films, TV programs, songs, and theatrical works. For 1950s science fiction, this is almost a symbolic quote, as it refers to the aforementioned fear of a sudden, unexpected, nuclear attack. Today, a more appropriate paraphrasing of this quote would be to make it still work in a culture immersed in fear.

Never stop watching the skies, never stop looking behind you. And most importantly – be careful what you breathe. The Thing is waiting.