When the European Space Agency gets in trouble, NASA is there to rescue them. Unfortunately, everyone was already dead on the ESA shuttle, except for the space vampires in suspended animation. However, there is a survivor heading home in the escape pod. Of course, he was the one American crew-member. Perhaps that is why naked “Space Girl” (as fans refer to her) forged a telepathic connection to Col. Tom Carlson, but that link works both ways in Tobe Hooper’s cult classic Lifeforce, which screens again Tuesday as part of MoMA’s retrospective of Hooper’s 1980s films.
You would think screenwriter Dan O’Bannon (who also penned Alien and Dark Star) would have made Carlson a “Major Tom” instead. However, he was certainly on solid ground describing an unexpected encounter with a dangerous race of space aliens. Ironically, the early scenes of the space vampire’s lair on Halley’s comet have serious Prometheus and Covenant vibes. Understandably, most of the Churchill’s crew assume the three good-looking humanoids are dead—since they are not breathing. Yet, the comatose bodies still exert a strange disruptive influence over the humans.
Things will go very badly on the Churchill, but Carlson’s explanation must wait for a later flashback. Frankly, by the time he reaches Earth Dr. Hans Fallada of the ESA and Col. Colin Caine of the SAS have already figured out the aliens consume people’s lifeforce. Like vampires, their victims also turn into lifeforce-suckers, but they are not as powerful. Apparently, Space Girl ditched her conspicuously naked body, having assumed control over a chin of hosts, but Carlson can now detect her influence with even an incidental touch.
Admittedly, it is hard to explain Lifeforce, even though it obviously layers science fiction elements over the narrative bones of Dracula. However, Hooper’s film is still an under-heralded genre gem. In some ways, it represents a once-in-a-lifetime genre collaboration, including Hooper (the director of Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Poltergeist), narrator John Larroquette (who also supplied the voice-over intro to Texas Chainsaw), O’Bannon, special effects artist John Dykstra (notable for Star Wars in 1977 and Spider-Man in 2002), a grand symphonic score composed by Henry “Pink Panther” Mancini, and it even features Patrick Stewart in a supporting role, as Dr. Armstrong. Plus, it was produced by Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus, of Cannon Films, who contracted Hooper to a three-picture deal.
Despite some excesses, like Space Girl walking through the city of London without a stitch of clothing, Lifeforce holds up nicely as a hybrid sf-horror production. Arguably, many of the scenes aboard the Churchill have a look and texture that evoke the vibes of earlier Dykstra films, such as Star Wars and Silent Running, which is very cool.
Peter Firth and Frank Finlay also develop intelligent, crisply professional chemistry in the Peter Cushing-Christopher Lee tradition, as Caine and Fallada. They embody smart, coolly competent characters, who admittedly have an awful lot on their plates. As Col. Carlson, Steve Railsback has terrific freakouts and fully commits to some over-the-top sex scenes, but if there had been a sequel, Firth’s Col. Caine would have been the one to carry it.
Weirdly, Mathilda May has less than ten minutes of actual screentime as Space Girl, but her eerie presence certainly makes an impression. Stewart is also appropriately arrogant as Dr. Armstrong, the director of mental hospital where Space Girl’s “familiar” might be hiding.
Lifeforce starts out like Alien and turns into an apocalyptic maelstrom of chaos and carnage, but the transition is surprisingly smooth. Despite losing control of the final edit, Hooper gives the film a distinctive stamp, especially in the more faithful 116-minute cut (currently available on most streamers), but it looks like MoMA is showing the slightly shorter and gorier cut. Regardless, the sharply drawn characters and colorful performances greatly distinguish and elevate Lifeforce. Enthusiastically and nostalgically recommended, it screens again this Tuesday (8/20) at MoMA (and also this Monday 8/19 at the Sidewalk Film Center).