DEVELOPMENT HELL
In their quest for a big bucks sequel, Fox went through a dizzying array of Hollywood screenwriters and directors.
By Sheldon Teitelbaum
ALIEN 3 evolved from dozens of scripts by a score or more of writers into what one veteran of the process anticipates will be “a barely serviceable, $50 million B horror movie.” Hollywood has a name for the process it’s called “development hell” by writers and producers who run the studio development gauntlet. Few routes are as circuitous as those pursued by Hollywood when, armed with a high concept and a deep pocket, it is of a mind to make a particular movie, especially a studio with a hot franchise, a paucity of genuine vision, and a devastating case of sequelitis.
20th Century Fox learned it had steam in the ALIEN franchise in 1986, when James Cameron’s ALIENS inspired pandemonium at the boxoffice. Fox wanted another film in the series, and turned to writer/producers Walter Hill and David Giler to deliver the goods. As keepers of the franchise—with Brandywine Productions* Gordon Caroll Hill and Giler had developed the original as well as its sequel at Fox. Neither, however, were clear on what a third movie would be about. They knew only that they did not want to turn the alien(s) loose on Earth. Giler said the alien works best in a claustrophobic setting.
“Drop the alien in Death Valley and you dropa nuke on him,” explained Giler. “End of story.” Unmentioned was the budgetary factor. Introducing the alien into “Bladerunner City” as novelist William Gibson was initially wont todo(see adjoining story, page 20) would have been prohibitivelyexpensive.
After Gibson's first draft was rejected, Hill and Giler introduced the novelist to Renny Harlin (DIE HARD II), then slated to direct the picture. Gibson declined further involvement because of other commitments, however, and it was decided this time to go with a big name screenwriter. Enter A-list writer/director Eric Red, who had crafted THE HITCHER, NEAR DARK, BLUESTEEL, COHEN & TATE and most recently directed the horror film BODY PARTS. Harlin had met Red at a film festival, and with Hill and Giler’s permission, signed him on.
“The basic problem when I was involved, for five weeks, was theydidnt know whatthey wanted,” recalled Red, who denies being bitter about the experience, “They went through a real waste of talent because of that. Another major problem was they didnt want Sigourney [Weaver] back, so I had to go through a whole series of new characters. As for the producers, [Hill and Giler], they simply weren't involved. I think it’s the responsibility of the producer or creative entity to haveacreativeconcept or to make sure it's moving forward efficiently. But these guys were aloof. I only met once with each of them.”
Red's script introduced a new protagonist, a special services commando whose platoon is wiped out by the alien when it boards Ripley’s now lifeless ship, seen adrift at the conclusion of ALIENS. The alien is brought aboard an orbiting space outpost populated mostly (and illogically —plausible science is never the long suit of any of the scripts) by redneck farmers. The Company, in conjunction with the military, conspires to tame the beastie, but ina scene seemingly lifted from ROBO- COP II—not to mention KING KONG or MIGHTY JOE YOUNG—the alien embarks on the standard slaughterfest It then turns its attentions to the surface, where the terrified townsfolk are mounting a posse.
Neither Hill and Giler nor Fox liked the script, despite Red's introduction of a new kind of alien, one which takes on the physical attributes of its host, in this case a cow. “When I met with Hill,” recalled Red, “I said, in ALIEN you had one creature, in the second, 100, and that in this film youneeded a new type of creature. I gave them the ‘cattle alien,” and I understand they went with that idea.”
Sigourney Weaver didn't like the script cither, mostly because she wasn't in it (no wonder, given her former protestations). “It was a disaster,” said Giler of Red's script, “absolutely dreadful, and that was the end of both of them.”
At this point, Hill and Giler turned back to basics, namely the Gibson script. They hired David Twohy on the basis of a screenplay they had read, and asked him to base his own version on the Gibson script. “By then it wasa Soviet Union ship vs. Gateway [the space station Ripley finds herself on at the start of ALIENS],” noted Giler.
Giler said Twohy rendered major changes in character, dialogue and, toa lesserextent, plot. Notably, Twohy set his picture on a prison planet. The screenwriter addressed the issue of whether or not Weaver would participate by writing two versions of the script,one with her and the other without her. This was not, said Giler, a major problem.
“The Ripley character can be written as a man or a woman,” noted Giler. “In fact, it was originally written as a man. To change it for Sigourney isn’ all that tough—she brings a lot of it herself.”
Giler said he liked Twohy’s work. But Hilland Giler replaced Harlin with director Vincent Ward, who dispensed with the Gibson template entirely. Ward did not fancy himself a writer, but he brought a vision to the production that caught Hill and Giler’s as well as Fox's fancy. Let's set the story in a monastery in outer space, suggested Ward. And Ict’s locate the monastery ona man-made satellite or space station made out of wood. The idea of an organicspacecraft, which may have been inspired by science fiction paintings by British artist Chris Foss, didnt address the dearth of story then extent, but as a high concept, it was inspiring. A wooden planctoid was even better than “steampunk,” the budding sub-subgenre of science fiction set in Victorian England that Gibson and cowriter Bruce Sterling were busy exploiting (and which would debut in their novel, The Difference Engine). ALIEN and ALIENS both had a distinctive look, but this was an art director's wet dream. Because Ward envisioned himself as an idea man, he was matched with screenwriter John Fasano, who was known to be a quick writer. Their first draft, which was delivered in early 1990, posited Ripley's arrival on a wooden planetoid in a far-off galaxy where a group of nco-Luddite former religious heretics have been sequestered, ostensibly to preserve the combined knowledge of mankind contained inactual books. The “monks” have been told by their abbot, in fact, that Earth civilization has succumbed toa virus that wrecked the planet's knowledge base (The wood factor becomes important when Ripley discovers that the monks are burning the planctoid’s lumberyard innards to keep from freezing to death, and that the attempt is self defeating because as more pulpy insulationis removed, the planctoid becomes colder.) Of course, the alien hitches a ride, making the residents pine for a simple death by frostbite.
Although the studio loved Ward's vision, it was less than enamored with the script he turned in, a problem made more dire by the fact that by then, Ward was already in London engaged in preproduction. “Vincent's wood idea didn't work at all,” said Giler. “We couldn't figure out why it should be made of wood. We could never get a simple answer from them. Why would they fly all that wood out there (the film is set in another galaxy, no less), and why was it crummy wood, at that? The picture would have had a great look, but it didnt make sense. There were just a lot of ‘why’ problems. What were these monks about? What was their creed? They were sort of Luddites, but it never getsexplained properly.”
Meanwhile, the working relationship between Ward and Fasano began to deteriorate (asit would between Ward and most of his co-workers in London). Fasano stepped out, and was replaced for a short time by screenwriter Greg Press. It was Press who came up with the idea of killing off Ripley. But he didn't succeed in shoring up the screenplay to the producers’ liking, and Fasano was asked forasecond draft, this time working alone. That didn’t work out either.
“He just wasn't in sync with the people he was working with incoming up witha workable screenplay,” said one insider, “and he personally began to goa little out of control. He started to alienate people, and it wasa bad dealall around. The film seemed to be getting out of control. Ward started to flip out—maybe he wanted out. He started badgering people in ways that made him look like someone who was not moving forward. The tension level, already high, started to rise.”
Ward left. Enter 28-year-old music video and TV commercial director David Fincher, who came to the project with specific ideas regarding plot and character. Fincher was matched up with screenwriter Larry(THE HUNT FORRED OCTOBER) Ferguson. Together, they worked with Fasano’s draft, but their effort also wasn't deemed up to snuff. “Ferguson's quite a good writer,” recounted Giler, “but he was working under enormous pressure, working very quickly, and it wasn’t what we wanted.” Maybe not, but Ferguson's name was put forth by Fox for shared writing credit, attesting to the number of ideas he introduced that were retained by the final script.
It was at this juncture that Hill and Giler complicated matters for Fincher by taking on the writing as well as the producing of the movie. Ancophyte to features, Fincher's autonomy was already inherently compromised by his youth and lack of experience. For a first-time director to have to deal with having one’s writers also be one’s producers, however, was more than most should have to bear, whatever the quality of the script. Fincher couldn't possibly tell them he had problems with the script—and insiders indicated that he had many—and by the same token expect them to run interference with the studio. But to walk, said one insider, “would have been a major ‘fuck you’ to the studio,” especially with the production slated to move into high gear within weeks,
Giler acknowledged Fincher's dilemma, albeit from his own vantage point. “It’sa difficult position to be both the producer and the writer,” said Giler. “From the moment you pick up the pen you bece.ne the writer. It’s casy for the director to argue with the writer but not the writer/ producer. You can’t get rid of the writers when they are the producers. You bring the studio into it too, and that creates trouble.”
Hill and Giler abandoned the monastery setting, returning to Twohy’s prison planet locale. They turned in their script at Christmastime, 1990 but Fox reportedly was not happy with it either, and they left. At which point Fincher brought in low-budget director and screenwriter Rex Pickett (FROM HOLLYWOOD TO DEADWOOD).
Pickett's job was allegedly to run fixes on the second half of the Hill/Giler script; in particular, to resurrect a prison warden character initially killed off in an expensive set piece. Sources indicate Pickett's material was initially well-received by the studio, but that personal and political differences with Hill and Giler (Pickett declined to be interviewed) led to his departure after a month of work.
“They snuck this guy in on us,” said Giler. “No one knew who he was, no one had ever read anything of his. No one knew why he should be hired other than that he was the boyfriend of one of the executive's friends. It was just a farce—I still don't know what that was about.”
If Fox was finally pleased, Pickett was himself none too happy with his work. In a forward to his script draft, used as a sample of his work, Pickett appended the following: “I was hired by 20th Century Fox four weeks prior to the start of principal photography on ALIEN 3. First on my agenda was a complete rewrite of the second half of the Walter Hill/David Giler screenplay due to certain major character and narrative changes mandated by Walter Hill. Once that was accomplished I was to attend to the first half and write an amalgamated version, which was to include scenes from their draft and new scenes that I wrote. Thus the resultant screenplay—particularly the first half—contains scenes that I was instructed to include whether I wanted to or not. In short, this was a ‘crunch time’ rewrite, and to fully appreciate the work that is represented here, the reader should refer to the Hill-Giler draft that I was rewriting from.”
Hill and Giler were eventually called back by Fox because Sigourney Weaver had contracted to appear in the film only if they were its writers. Weaver thus not only commanded a tremendous sum of money for reprising her role as Ripley for a third time, but also found herself calling the shots on story issues. As evidenced by HUDSON HAWKE and other recent actor-driven vehicles, this kind of power rarely bodes well for the plot.
A late draft by Hill and Giler acknowledged ten revisions dating from January 16, 1991 through April 10, 1991. Changes were effected throughout the shoot, however, and a final copy of the script likely couldn't contain a complete list of revisions on the front page alone. It remains to be seen whether Fincher, who may have thought he could overpower story problems by sheer dint of visual style, salvaged a boxoffice success when left alone in the cutting room. Actor Lance Henriksen, who reprised his role as the android Bishop from ALIENS, swore by Fincher's talent and presence, but it's still anyone's bet who runs screaming into the night first—Fincher or his audience.
Weaver faces the monster with only a makeshift flamethrower in ALIEN 3, low-tech fire power that resufted from the scripf's original setting on # wooden planet of pacifist monks.
Lance Henriksen a3 Bishop I! In ALIEN 3, pleading for Ripley to save the monster.
Director David Fincher evokes an atmospheric Ridley Scott look for ALIEN 3, on the set of the infirmary. Inset: Fincher invokes Scott's low-key lighting schemes for suspense, as convicts search for the monster in darkness.
Weaver as convict-in-space Ripley in ALIEN 3, eyeing her shaved head In the crude reflection of a prison mirror.
Sigourney Weaver as Ripley strips down to her BVD’s in ALIEN (1979), donning a spacesuit to evacuate the air and eject the monster from the ship. ALIEN3 is reportedly the end of the line for Ripley, finally impregnated with an alien embryo.
The prison planet setting of ALIEN 3, actually an abandoned leadworks factory outside London. Inset: “Skinheads in Space,” the name given the film by cast members who had to shave their heads for the film's convict hairstyle.
Filming Ripley's discovery of the cocoon in ALIEN, one of the cuts said to be restored in a new video version.
Lance Henriksen as “company” android Bishop in ALIENS (1986), employing alien facehuggers for weapons research over the objections of Michael Biehn as Hicks.
Return of the Android
Lance Henriksen is back in the role of “company” android Bishopin ALIEN 3. In ALIENS, Bishop was severed in half, but Ripley reconnects him briefly in the new sequel, just long enough for the android to tell her to pull his plug as a “favor.” Henriksen reappears laterinthe film as Bishop II, his own maker, a company badass. Once the alien is loosed on the prison orbiter on which Ripley crashes, the company is radioed for help and Henriksen shows up to enlist Ripicy’s help in taking back anegg to use for weapons research.
Henriksen noted that there was talk of a third and even fourth film in the series while he was filming ALIENSin 1986. “1 wouldn't agree to anything without knowing what the script was,” said Henriksen, who took the partin ALIEN 3at the behest of executive producer Walter Hill. “Walter called me and said, ‘Lance, go to England. Do the role,”
Henriksen took over the Bishop part from lan Holm, who played the role in ALIEN (1979), “I wanted my hair to look like copper wire,”’said Henriksen,a blond who was dyed black to match Holm instead. “I wanted to suggest Bishop was different, but not make it radical. | waxed my arms. My skin looked an odd tone, Changing my look was part of the process.”
Henriksen noted he regarded the Bishop role as a major breakthrough in his career, “It put me on the map,” said Henriksen. “That was an unexpected response. It was a minor role and meant to be one.” Henriksen described the “method™ technique he used to make the part stand out. “I used the emotional level I had when I was 13,” he said. “If someone makes a mistake, they can be replaced, It gave me feelings to work with. I work very privately. I dont ask for permission. It’s all a secret. When I get direction, I translate through what I'm doing.”
Henriksen was high on working with ALIEN 3 director David Fincher. “The kid’s a genius,” said Henriksen, “Whata mind! He comes from the Propaganda group. They make rock videos. He's 25, I was shocked, It was his first feature. He was the most intelligent, most patient, most communicative director I think I have ever worked with.”
Sheldon Teitelbaum