altered states

It's confession time. I know I picked Ken Russell's 1980 sci-fi mind molester as the inaugural film for Sci-Fi Squad's experimental Movie Club, but the truth is, I'm not entirely sure I'm up to the task of unraveling the intellectual Gordian Knot that is Altered States. I'll certainly give it a shot.

I hope you've actually seen the film by now, but if you haven't, Altered States is the story of a professor and scientist named Eddie Jessup (William Hurt) whose quest to uncover the ultimate truth about the meaning of life fractals out of control when his attempts to transcend his own consciousness (by combining sensory deprivation techniques with unidentified psychotropic drugs) begins manifesting, against all logic, a physical response.

That's just the short form description. Russell's film deals with a number of different issues, but perhaps more prevalent than anything else are the body blows he deals to the nature of the modern scientist and his relationship to his loved ones and peers, himself, and the unknown (both religious and scientific).

Obviously there's a lot to talk about, but for the sake of word count, we'll stick with these three questions:

- What does Altered States have to say about the Modern Scientist?
- If Jessup is an atheist, why does he always dream of religion?
- Okay, seriously, what's up with the visuals?

With Benicio Del Toro ready to debut as Lawrence Talbot in Joe Johnston's The Wolfman tomorrow, it's time to pay tribute to transformations. When Lon Chaney Jr. played The Wolf Man in 1941, the physical transformation was effected through make-up and dissolves. But the idea wasn't just that Lawrence Talbot was changed physically, but that his interior life changed as well. All the make-up and special effects in the world can't hide a character who doesn't grow (or devolve) from the experience.

Science fiction opens up the possibilities considerably, expanding the idea of cross-species commingling. Here are my top ten sci-fi transformations, listed (almost) in alphabetical order.

1. Sam Worthington in Avatar
Jake Sully is a broken man in more ways than one, rendered paraplegic during his military service and broken of spirit as a result. He doesn't take much convincing to accept a mission that may earn him an operation to regain the use of his limbs. Little does he know that it's his increasingly intimate dealings with the Na'vi that will transform him body and soul. He may appear to be nine feet tall and blue, he may wag a new tail, but deep inside, it is his very essence that is changing.

2. William Hurt in Altered States
Eddie Jessup is a brilliant scientist, far more interested in expanding his mind and consciousness than worrying about his physical being. Yet the hours he spends floating in a sensory-deprivation tank -- not to mention the drugs -- begin to have an effect upon his body as well, drilling down far deeper than even the brilliant Jessup could ever have anticipated. The result is one of the more bizarre apparitions to appear on screen.

It's hard enough to make either a good sci-fi flick or a horror movie, one that avoids the tired stereotypes yet embraces the aesthetic, with a smart script that provides something fresh and new and solid direction that establishes a proper atmosphere and allows for surprising developments. And performances that don't camp it up but are sincere and convincing. Combining the two genres is much trickier than blending peanut butter and chocolate. That was my thinking when compiling this list. Your comments are more than welcome. What are your personal favorites? Here are mine:

1. Alien
I don't know if Ridley Scott actually realized he was making a sci-fi horror movie, so much as he thought he was making a stylish thriller. Call it willful ignorance, but that may have contributed to the refreshing absence of overcooked ideas, which typically pop up like dandelions for directors new to either genre. Like the original, original Star Wars (before George shined it up), Alien resides in a future which feels lived in and used up, from the battered old Nostromo to the planet that harbors the seeds of the crew's destruction. By keeping the alien (mostly) out of the shot, and showing instead what the creature has done, the level of terror keeps rising. A distinct sense of dread permeates the picture, and it still makes me shiver.