We might say that the lasting legacy of all the great horror movies can be measured by the number of imitators they spawn. However, while the likes of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Halloween and The Blair Witch Project presented a format that opportunistic filmmakers could easily duplicate on a limited budget, one influential horror title which presents the cash-strapped with a rather more significant challenge is Ridley Scott’s Alien. The success of the 1979 space shocker naturally left others eager to cash in on audience appetite for evil extra-terrestrials, but this was of course a rather trickier proposition than just dumping some kids in a house with a guy in a mask, and required a bit more imagination. As a result, the first Alien imitators tend to be among the strangest films you’ll find from the early 1980s, such as Luigi Cozzi’s Contamination, and this film, Xtro, from second-time director Harry Bromley Davenport.
This low budget 1982 UK production is one of those select titles of the era whose name has been tarnished – or, dependent on your point of view, immortalised – by association with the notorious Video Nasty panic; although, unlike Contamination, Xtro was never officially blacklisted by the Video Recordings Act. It did, however, wind up an unexpectedly big hit in the US, thanks largely to the involvement of New Line Cinema and executive producer Robert Shaye, who were just a couple of years shy of really hitting the big time with the Nightmare on Elm Street movies. Looking at the film today (it’s one I personally hadn’t seen until now), I find it fascinating that Xtro enjoyed such commercial success stateside, as quite apart from it having a pointedly British personality, it really is one of the oddest films of its sort that I’ve ever seen, drifting from standard B-movie banality to jaw-dropping weirdness and perversity in what proves to be a quite hypnotic manner.
It all starts out simply enough, as doting dad Sam Philips (Philip Sayer, who died seven years after the film’s release) plays in the garden with his young son Tony (Simon Nash), only to mysteriously vanish when the sky suddenly goes black and an otherworldly light comes flashing over them. Three years later, Tony’s mum Rachel (Bernice Stegers) has moved them both to a city apartment where they live with her new boyfriend Joe (Danny Brainin) and their French au pair Analise (future Bond girl Maryam D’Abo), all of whom assure Tony that his father simply up and left them, and any other ideas are just in his head. However, Sam is about to return to their world, as the alien vessel returns, dropping off an ugly little monster in the backwoods not far from the old Philips homestead. Some grisly encounters with a couple of locals ensue, until Sam re-emerges by means that I’m not about to spoil (if you don’t know what’s coming, as I didn’t, you’re very likely to be taken by surprise). Disoriented but seemingly well-meaning, Sam manages to locate his family, telling them he has no memory of what happened or where he’s been the past three years. Naturally, this leads to major suspicions and tensions, but Tony seems delighted to be reunited with his father – and his father seems a little too pleased to be reunited with his son, as it slowly becomes apparent that he has returned for a reason.
It may all seem like pretty standard alien abduction movie stuff, but the real ace up Xtro’s sleeve is how absolutely batshit insane it gets as things progress. In the accompanying documentary produced specifically for this Blu-ray by Nucleus Films, Alan Jones remarks that New Line’s Shaye, inspired by the success of Phantasm, felt the way to go with Xtro was to amp up the weirdness at every opportunity. As a result of Shaye’s input, what starts out looking like a fairly generic creature feature soon branches out into utterly nonsensical surrealism, with children’s toys coming to life, random cameos from wild animals, and more besides; again, I’m loathe to go into specifics for the benefit of first-time viewers. It’s also easy enough to see how the film almost fell afoul of the censors, as it does get very bloody at points, as well as piling on the sex appeal, with first time actress D’Abo sportingly baring all in scenes which naturally do bugger all to advance the plot. What makes the whole thing all the more compelling is that, in the midst of all this trashy grindhouse excess, there are elements of a serious family drama in here, with Sayer, Stegers and Brainin treating the relationship-based storyline more seriously than we might think the film really warrants.
Given that the 1980s is historically regarded as the decade in which the British film industry died, films like this (and other recent Blu-ray release Rawhead Rex) serve as an agreeable reminder that some weird and wonderful movies still managed to get made. It’s also nice to see the film get such an affectionate treatment as this limited edition from Second Sight, which on top of the aforementioned documentary also boasts an eye-opening four different viewing options for the film, incorporating an alternate ending and a new director’s cut, plus a number of extra featurettes about the film and its legacy. While the two Xtro sequels (which, by the director’s own admission, took almost nothing but the title) are not gone into in much detail, we get rather more on the plans for a fourth film, with some rough test footage revealed.
Xtro is available now on limited edition Blu-ray from Second Sight.