Alien Covenant

[spb_column width="1/1" el_position="first last"] [spb_text_block pb_margin_bottom="no" pb_border_bottom="no" width="1/1" el_position="first last"]   By, Jacob Krueger [/spb_text_block] [/spb_column] [divider type="standard" text="Go to top" full_width="no" width="1/1" el_position="first last"] [fullwidth_text alt_background="none" width="1/1" el_position="first last"] Alien Covenant: Setting Up A Trick Ending Podcast Transcript: This week, we are going to be looking at Alien: Covenant, by John Logan and Dante Harper.   One of the things that makes Alien: Covenant especially worth studying for screenwriters of all genres is that it’s a script that starts off really strong, but suffers as it reaches its conclusion from a really common malady of all screenwriters: the totally predictable trick ending that the writers are wedded to, that ends up undermining the real story that they’re trying to tell.   Now, sure, Alien: Covenant is a regurgitation of something that we have seen a million times before in every Alien movie: a simple structure where you take a bunch of really well drawn characters and slowly kill them off one by one.   This is the formula for Alien; this is the way it works. And this movie, like all the others in the Alien series, is built around the horror of being chased by a creature that is way more powerful than you.   So when I say it starts off strong, I’m not suggesting that they’re reinventing the wheel. I’m suggesting they’re taking that wheel, and rolling it in a slightly more complicated direction. Which is really the goal for any serialized screenplay-- to deliver the same thing in a slightly different way. But though the script may be built upon the same old formula, it is also built from something deeper.   Like the original 1979 Alien movie, Alien: Covenant grows not just out of the commercial question of “how do I-- as Blake Snyder would put it-- tell a ‘monster in the house’ horror movie in space?” It grows out of a theme. Something that was genuinely terrifying to the original writer, Dan O'Bannon, that he wanted to explore in a personal way. Something true that he wanted to explore through fiction. And this was what separated the original Alien from other movies of that genre.   As Dan O’Bannon has noted in interviews, the idea that actually spawned the original Alien, was the horror of rape and forced pregnancy-- a horror that so many women have gone through in their real world lives, but that few men could viscerally understand. So instead of going after women in an exploitative way, as so many horror movies have done, he wanted instead to go after the men-- to make that horror visceral to men, in a way that would make them, “Cross their legs” and feel what that is like.   And you can see that the entire structure of the Alien franchise, from the structure of each individual script, to the horrifying visuals, to the rules of the universe, down all the way to the production design, the way the alien creatures burst from the chests (and later, in Alien: Covenant from the backs) of impregnated males, every single decision grows from that one simple idea. The deeply personal why that the writer is actually writing it.   So, you have a theme, and that theme is the thing that gives your script unity. It isn't necessarily the thing that the audience leaves talking about. Nobody leaves Alien saying, “Wow what an interesting theme about male insemination, male pregnancy!” No, they leave going, “Holy shit, a fucking alien burst out of this guy’s back!”   But they feel the theme. The theme gives the screenplay a feeling of unity. And the theme guides the creative imagination of the writer.   It’s this same theme that leads to another element that ties all the Alien movies together: the strong female protagonist. And we can see that once again in Alien: Covenant, the characters we relate to most are the women. The characters who have the highest intelligence, the greatest leadership abilities among the crew are these powerful female protagonists, who don’t actually end up escaping their fate, but end up putting up the best battle against it.   What’s so exciting about the beginning of Alien: Covenant is that woven in with these familiar themes, it also brings something thematically new to the table, something that is derived from its predecessor Prometheus, but nevertheless pushed to an even deeper place in the early pages of the script: an exploration of these themes in the world of the synthetics (Aliens’ name for the humanlike Androids who populate its world).   There are two synthetics at the center of this film: The first is Walter, played by Michael Fassbender, the synthetic who assists the crew of the spaceship on their journey.   As you know from the trailer, even if you haven’t yet seen the film, the crew is a group of couples all heading to a new utopian planet where they hope to repopulate. And they have a very long journey, which means they have to spend most of their journey asleep in claustophobic cylinders. So, Walter is a synthetic who is there to keep the ship going while they go through their forced sleep cycles in these strange cylinders.   And there is also another synthetic involved, also played by Michael Fassbender, who (to prevent spoilers) we’ll get to in a moment.   So, as we’ve discussed, as in every Alien movie, the structure, the engine of the piece, is always built the same way. We start off getting to know a bunch of really well drawn characters, as they deal with the challenges of space travel: no aliens involved, just the challenge of surviving in space.   And we have seen this from the very first Alien and we are seeing it again here in Alien: Covenant.   After a cool opening sequence, that takes place many years in the past and sets in motion the theme we’ll discuss later, we find ourselves aboard another, bad-ass spaceship, with it’s own visually stunning technology. Walter, alone on the ship, puts up these beautiful recharging sails.       And like all the movies, the special effects and the beautiful chiaroscuro of the shots is certainly there from the very beginning. We have these gorgeous shots, we have this very dark tone, we have the feeling of Alien.   We have the shot of this is incredibly beautiful golden sails that are used to recharge the ship. And then, BANG! They get hit by a neutrino burst and we’re catapulted into the movie--   Right there from the very start, no aliens at all, we are already in crisis. The humans on the ship need to be wakened from their forced slumber, and immediately into life and death action--   This is an important lesson to anybody writing action movies-- or any other kind of movie for that matter-- oftentimes we start to think about our opening pages as a time to “set things up”, as a time to “establish this” or “establish that.” But the truth is the opening 10 pages; the first 10 pages of your movie are the most important 10 pages, not only artistically but also commercially.   Artistically they are the most important pages because these pages are the beginning; this is the sequence that creates the window through which your audience views everything else in your movie. Artistically, this is the window through which you view the rest of the movie; this is the bar that you set for yourself of what your movie needs to be.   If you are writing an action movie, the bar on your action should be really high. You should start off with the most badass action scene you can possibly create, so that you can then outdo it, and outdo it, and outdo it- make it stronger and better and cooler, and more badass.   If you are writing an action movie, your first sequence to the degree that is possible should probably be an action sequence. If you are writing a romantic comedy, it should feel like a romantic comedy sequence. If you are writing a drama it should feel like a dramatic sequence.   But no matter what you are writing, it shouldn’t feel like you are setting stuff up.   The reason for this is twofold. First, setting stuff up is boring; it is boring for the audience, it is boring for the writer, and most importantly, it is boring for the producer. And the truth is, page one is the only page you can be guaranteed that most people are going to look at. And the truth is, if you haven't got them by page 10, they are never going to make it to page 100 for your awesome trick ending… or your not-so-awesome trick ending, as we will talk about later.   So, the first thing to understand is that if you waste your first ten pages setting stuff up, you are doing your story, your readers and your audience a disservice.   But, the second thing is that you are also doing yourself a disservice; you are robbing yourself of the opportunity to get the feel of the movie from the very first page.   Every decision you make about your screenplay creates a feeling. And the first sequence of your movie should create the feeling that you are seeking for your script.   Now look, there are exceptions to this. Sometimes you use opening scenes for misdirection, like setting somebody up for a punch. You lead them to believe they are in one kind of movie and then… BANG! on page 10 you hit them with another--you pull the rug out from under them.   You can hear an example of this if you listen to my podcast about Guardians of the Galaxy.   So this isn't a formula, but it is a way of thinking about films. If you are not leading with your best stuff, you are probably robbing both the audience and yourself.   You are robbing the audience of the best opportunity that they could have to get excited about your movie, and feel viscerally what your movie is really about.