In a world where Don LaFontaine will no longer lend his voice to any trailers, and where floating heads and Photoshop skills are what passes for the 'art' in 'poster art', the prospect of Drew Struzan's retirement is almost too much to bear. The guys over at Ain't It Cool News got the initial news from TheRaider.net, and they get the fact that this makes the sun shine just that much less in this industry of ours.

In a message posted there, Struzan said: "Having been working at not working has produced a guy who could never return to illustration again. It took a lot to attempt the idea of retiring from my 40 years of effort and sacrifice but now that I have, I am delighting in life as never before. I had forgotten how to rest, to smell the proverbial roses and to see the future as opportunity. I am grateful and honored to have had the opportunity to do all the work I did. I am well pleased to have been able to give a gift of beauty and peace through my artwork to so many throughout the world. Now I have laid down the burden and have peace and happiness as the reward for my day's labor."

AICN aptly directs readers to Struzan's official site, and even if they hadn't, I'd advise the same course of action in an attempt to appreciate what iconic images he crafted a career out of.

You know how all the horror geeks get extra-nervous when someone starts talking about a remake of John Carpenter's The Thing -- despite the fact that (as awesome as it is, and boy is it awesome) it itself is a remake! Doesn't that create some sort of retroactive mega-paradox: That if a REMAKE is that damn good, doesn't it stand as final proof that remakes ARE good?? In theory, anyway. I'm not talking about freakin' Prom Night here.

Anyway, it looks like some loyal monster fans took the job into their own hands, and have thus created their own rendition of The Thing ... using only G.I. Joe action figures. It's really nifty, and the music is pretty cool too.



[ Thanks to CHUD.com for the heads-up. ]

Now and then, an interview yields an unforgivably tantalizing piece of information -- and, while 9 times out of 10 these nuggets are pure, idle, meaningless crazy-talk, now and then they're just too good to ignore. So it is today, as Empire pulls a sidebar from their recent interview with Diary of the Dead director George A. Romero where he idly mentions that one of his dream projects is a stage adaptation of ... John W. Campbell's Who Goes There?, later filmed as The Thing from Another World. Later, of course, filmed as The Thing.

It turns out Romero's a huge fan of the 1951 iteration of the tale, citing it as a major influence: "It really worked, it really scared me." And that admiration isn't just academic; Romero notes, teasingly, that "I watched The Thing many, many times but there's a reason for that ... I keep trying to get hold of the rights and I'd love to do it as a stage play." Romero then goes on to offer his own take on how to make the live theatrical version a more visceral experience: "I'd love to freeze the whole audience ... first of all, we'd have to chill the whole theatre down to some sub-zero temperature."

Empire points out that in a universe that's already offered us Evil Dead: The Musical, a live play of The Thing doesn't seem like a stretch; I'd also add that Cronenberg's The Fly is also due to hit the boards in an operatic adaptation in July. In his interview with Cinematical, Romero mentioned that he's already working on following Diary of the Dead with a sequel -- and, since we're indulging in some crazy talk, which project would you rather see the director focus on: More zombies for moviegoers everywhere, or a (literally) chilling night of theater for the lucky denizens of one city?

Lots of things are scary: walking dead people, dudes with chainsaws, aerosol cheese (it's just wrong, I tell you). Sometimes, though, the chills can come from outer space, another dimension or a laboratory experiment gone horribly wrong. The greatest fear is a fear of the unknown, and what's more unknown than an alien life form or the endless expanse of space? Let's take a look at seven movies whose scares come from the world of science fiction.

Alien (1979)
"In space, no one can hear you scream," or so they say. I guess this is the obvious one to start with. Isolation is a key element of horror, and can you get more isolated than a space ship light years from home? The crew of the mining vessel Nostromo are awakened prematurely on their return trip to Earth to investigate a transmission from an alien world. The crew finds an ancient alien spacecraft, the mummified remains of one of its non-human occupants, and several large eggs. The creature inside one of the eggs gains entrance to the Nostromo by latching onto one of the crew members. Once aboard, the little beastie quickly grows into one of the most horrific and memorable monstrosities the screen has ever seen. I saw this one when it first hit theaters, I've seen it many times over the years, and I recently watched it again. Like Dorian Gray, this film just refuses to age. The effects are just as magnificent as ever, the story is tense and fast paced, and the cast is excellent. More importantly, though, this is one scary ride.

The Thing (1982)
A lot of people took me to task for not including this one in my Cinematical Seven: Cool Horror Films of the 80s. With a list of only seven you're not going to please everyone. Regardless, John Carpenter's The Thing is a remarkable film for a number of reasons. Not only is it one of the greatest horror films of all time, it's also one of the rarest of the rare: a remake that surpasses the original. Based on the novella "Who Goes There" by John W. Campbell, Carpenter's version of the story is more faithful to Campbell than 1951's The Thing From Another World. In Carpenter's film, the members of an Antarctic research station find an alien space craft that's been buried in the ice for centuries. A creature with the ability to absorb and mimic other life forms gets thawed out and infiltrates the camp, creating one of the greatest combos of isolation and paranoia in horror history. Kurt Russell is one of the great movie bad asses as MacReady, the helicopter pilot who becomes the de facto group leader. The creature's pre-digital transformations are a thing (pun definitely intended) to behold, to say nothing of seriously gross.

Like most people on the internet, we at Cinematical love lists. I love them so much that I wish I could write about everyone I read, but unfortunately there are too many geeks out there making up too many lists, and not enough love to go round (can't you see this is the land of confusion .... ). But since another thing we love around here is Star Wars -- not just the movies but also the fans, the debates, the complaints, etc. -- I figured that these four lists were worth sharing. Because they all mention something related to George Lucas' popular universe. Three of the lists also reference a lot of Star Trek, but with J.J. Abrams rebooting the franchise and all, I think Trekkies have enough love right now. Meanwhile, the 30th Anniversary of Star Wars occurred this year, and we still had to read about things like the Harry Potter franchise out-grossing the Star Wars series and Serenity beating out Star Wars as a best sci-fi film poll. So, thanks to the people at Fark.com, who love lists even more than we do, here are four movie-related lists that give some appropriate props:

• First we have the Times' countdown of the 40 most memorable aliens. Unfortunately, the only Star Wars aliens listed are at #32 and #26, and they're the Ewoks and Max Rebo, respectively. Considering most of the characters in the series can be considered aliens, this is harsh, but since I'm one of the few Ewok fans out there, I appreciate the gesture. Even if ALF is higher up on the list than they are. At least they're still better than the Coneheads. Anyway the top ten here is full of other significant movie aliens, including the arachnids of Starship Troopers, E.T., the Transformers, Superman, The Blob, The Thing and, at the top spot, God.
  
• Next there's Kunochan.com's countdown of the top twenty starship captains. Once again, Star Wars doesn't get the #1, but it's understandable that Star Trek's most famous captains get the first two slots. At #3, though, is Han Solo. However, the list's author does point out that he had to put a Star Wars character in the top five to avoid having his house firebombed. I don't mind the disingenuous comment; Solo deserves to be higher up than Captain Janeway and the dude from Firefly/Serenity. Down the line at #11 we've also got Grand Moff Tarkin.

There are films that fall from our view -- after the initial heat-rush of their release, they quickly cool and fade, their flash of incandescence dimming like a dying ember until they disappear. There are other films, however, that do not fall from view, or fade, but rather shine constantly, unceasing and unwavering in their quality. These enduring films are not all high art; some of them (indeed, many of them) are excellent trash, casual masterpieces. Their enduring glow is like the sickly undimming light of radioactivity; their tenacity is like that of the cockroach. Many of these films were made on a shoestring with a legion of low-level actors and without a single original bone in their bodies -- and yet, something in them reaches us, resonates, tapping -- deliberately or accidentally -- into some primal aspect of our psyches to endure as dreams or visions or, in some cases, nightmares. John Carpenter's The Thing, released in 1982, endures even though we might not want it to, much the same way we'd try to shake off a bad dream -- it's a remake of a d-grade b-movie that rises head and shoulders above the source material and still sends both wet, visceral disgust and cold, clinical terror keening through you 25 years later. As Stephen King points out in his genre study Danse Macabre, there's a difference between revulsion and fear, between shock and suspense. But The Thing has all of those: the bloody terrors of sudden death, the terrible quiet in the icy halls as our heroes are eliminated one by one; the existential nightmare of the other replacing you and the more immediate concern of the other in the room with you, snarling and slashing and hungry.

And you'd be hard-pressed to imagine The Thing enduring at the time of its release; it was conceived as a mid-level moneymaker, with a $10 million budget and (with the exception of Kurt Russell and director Carpenter) completely devoid of marquee value. Screenwriter Bill Lancaster's previous credits were for the Bad News Bears films -- which hardly suggest that sci-fi horror was his forte or his passion. The Thing was a flop at the box office; in a cruel twist of fate, Steven Spielberg's E.T. opened two weeks before The Thing made its debut, and Spielberg's kinder, gentler visitor from beyond went on to rake in money hand over fist. And yet, there's a reason why we remember bitter nightmares more fiercely than sweet dreams. ...

In a spaceship, in an underwater vessel or in an Arctic or Antarctic station, some of the best science fiction takes place in an isolated setting. More precisely, such locations are the convention of the narrower genre of sci-fi horror, in which remote environments combined with tight, claustrophobic spaces are perfect for the unleashing of our worst fears. This is, of course, obvious to any viewer, who recognizes these are places difficult or impossible to escape or be rescued from. But more importantly these settings allow for psychological conflicts that parallel, heighten or even overshadow the genre's typical conflicts with aliens, sentient computers or supernatural beings.

Take Larry Fessenden's latest film, The Last Winter, which is set in an Arctic station and follows all the rules of the sci-fi horror genre, while almost completely leaving out the physical conflict. Yes, it features a supernatural threat, but it doesn't need one, because the film works so brilliantly as simply a psychological mood piece. In most of these kinds of films, the creature or villain is the pay-off for the audience that seeks some sort of spectacle, or at least some material baddie to make for a cinematically appropriate, externally battled climax. In The Last Winter however, the spectacle actually falls flat because it consists of disappointingly horrible special effects.

Back in March, Variety reported on a bidding war for the rights to remake John Carpenter's action classic Escape From New York. When the dust settled, New Line emerged victorious and the project was put together as a starring vehicle for 300's Gerard Butler. Now, Ain't It Cool News claims to have gotten a first look at the new script by Black Hawk Down writer Ken Nolan and provides their own review. Since this news depends on how much you trust the sources at AICN, you should probably take most of the review with a huge grain of salt. Also, if you are the type who likes to remain "spoiler-free" you should tread lightly, since they are pretty liberal with the reveals. The original film of course starred Kurt Russell as Snake Plissken, an ex-soldier and fugitive who is roped into rescuing the U.S. President from New York, which has been turned into a brutal high-security prison. When news of the remake hit, let's just say that it did not receive a warm welcome from fans or the original Snake -- Russell has since mellowed on the whole thing, but is still far from enthusiastic.

According to AICN's review, the new script manages to keep most of the original film's story and characters while managing to come up with a few ideas of their own, such as flashbacks to Plissken's military career, and an updated political context. The original film was Carpenter's reaction to the Watergate scandal, so the new film is apparently placing Plissken's political dissent in direct connection with the crisis in the Middle East. There are some other changes supposedly on the way, but since the script is still in the draft stage, who knows how much could actually wind up in the finished product?

So now we know: It could have been a sequel, it could have been a mini-series, but it looks like the newest version of The Thing will come in the form of, yep, another remake. But hey, before you get all persnickety and dismissive, let's all remember that John Carpenter's The Thing (arguably one of the very finest pieces of horror/sci-fi of the past 30 years) was itself a remake of Howard Hawks' and Christian Nyby's 1951 classic The Thing from Another World. The reason they both still hold up these days? Both teams of filmmakers took a decidedly different approach to the source material, John Campbell's story Who Goes There?

We don't yet know who'll be directing this new Thing for Universal and Strike Entertainment, but a screenwriter has been announced. Currently quite lauded for his work on the cult-tastic Battlestar Galactica, Ronald D. Moore has his name stamped on a whole host of sci-fi-style products, including Roswell and about a half-dozen different Star Trek productions. (Plus he just delivered the script for an I, Robot sequel.)

So let the cyber-rattling begin: Someone's about to make a third move called The Thing, and everyone will gripe about without stopping to realize that it's not remakes we should fear, but cheap, lazy filmmaking. So far I'm not seeing any nasty harbingers attached to this particular project, but I'll be sure to throw out some opinions if I notice any.

(Please lord keep Stephen Sommers away from this set.)

When I started putting together my Toronto Midnight Madness wish list, the Korean monster mash known as The Host (aka Gwoemul) was at the very top of my list -- partially because I'd been hearing some really good buzz from other blogs and my Cinematical colleagues, but mainly because it's a flick about a genetically mutated fish-like mega-beast who invades the Korean streets and chomps down on civilians left and right. So after sitting down and enjoying the heck out of The Host, I was thrilled to jump across the street and shoot the breeze with director Bong Joon-ho, and here's how that conversation went down:

Scott: How hard is it to juggle multiple genres and have them gel into a cohesive whole?

Bong Joon-ho: To mix all those elements is not exactly like a bartender making cocktails. I don't say "I need 20% of this, 30% of that," but I try to stay faithful to the story, and hopefully the elements come out naturally. Just like my previous film, Memories of Murder, is a story about a serial killer investigation, the humor or the satire just comes out naturally.

As I was working on the screenplay and shooting The Host, I never thought I was "mixing up" those elements, but after the movie came out, people came to me and said "Oh, you mixed together all these different genres." I think the secret regarding this film lies with our actors. Whether they're doing the comedy, the tragedy, or the suspense, they do their best within the reality of the movie. They never overdo it.

That's definitely a testament to your actors. It's certainly not easy to balance broad comedy followed by horror scenes and heroic stuff and moments of sadness. So what monster movies did you love growing up, and which ones inspired you on The Host?

It wasn't a specific inspiration, but M. Night Shyamalan's Signs focuses on the family as opposed to the aliens. So the core narrative of the film is focused on Mel Gibson's family, and that gave me some inspiration there. John Carpenter's The Thing, while not a specific influence on The Host, is a classic monster movie. Also Ridley Scott's Alien.