Jim gets everything that matters wrong here. The failure here is built around an empirically, not aesthetically, wrong assumption he made about Alien and Aliens:
The xenomorphs aren't the bad guys. They aren't even
important in the long run for the humans. That's why they're wonderful.
The Company is the bad guy.
The first two films are, effectively, about the Company, a faceless, cowardly authority, screwing over innocent people for a bit of market share. The xenomorphs themselves are terrible monsters precisely because of how normally
non-threatening they'd be. They're nonsentient beasts. They're bugs. You can just fucking shoot them and they die. You can blow them up easily. Any amount of preparation with modern technology completely eliminates their threat.
Unless your commanding authorities
fuck you solid.
The xenomorphs have, one, and only one, virtue, over the humans attempting to survive them: loyalty. And because of that one virtue, they are scary, scary monsters.
(In the first film, the android expresses this as
purity, calling the organism "perfect." Since there was only one mobile xenomorph on the ship at one time, loyalty isn't as evident, but if you include the deleted scene, you can see how "loyalty" and "purity" are essentially the same thing: for a bug, there is no other mission than to serve the species, no other purpose.)
Here is the most important line in the Aliens franchise:
Aliens said said:
Ripley: You know, Burke, I don't know which species is worse. You don't see them fucking each other over for a goddamn percentage.
And what's the situation in that quote? Not only are the protagonists trying to survive an attack by space fire ants, they are trying to find a way to defeat the true villain: the Company. Ripley insists on bringing Burke back for just that reason.
And they fail. The officials behind the LV-426 fiasco, hiding behind Weyland-Yutani's power and influence,
get away with everything.
Jim says something empirically untrue. He says the xenomorphs always win. Bullshit. The bugs fucking die. They're fucking bugs. The first bug wanted to reproduce. (Check out the deleted scene of Alien that would have made the Queen of Aliens redundant.) It died. It failed. The second bugs. . . wanted to reproduce. They died. They failed. The brief, initial successes of the bugs in both films notwithstanding, none of them set up long-term colonies.
Jim said the Aliens always win. Completely wrong:
They always fucking lose. But that doesn't matter because, well, they're bugs. They don't notice. There's always more bugs. Who cares? I destroyed an ant nest when I was five. What did I accomplish? Ants lived on and I got stung.
In the first two -- that is, the only two good -- films of the franchise,
the Company always wins.
And the notion that the Company is the main antagonist pans out precisely because of the secondary status of the aliens from the perspective of powerful actors in the narrative. The first film is, essentially, about space rape. It was a clever way at putting body horror and out-of-control sexuality front and center in one of the nastiest non-metaphors in cinematic history. So where's the Company in all this? It's the voyeur, paying top dollar for a horrid snuff film. Even within this narrative, the Company is front and center as the bad guy; the alien is just the bagman, a drone in every sense of the word.
In the sequel, the protagonists are in Super Vietnam 2: Space Frag. The Company takes on the role of the U.S. government in this mess
even though we have actual, traditional marines from a U.S.-like authority in the film. This presents no dichotomy because we accept a lil' bit of fascism as normal: government interests equal corporate interests? Business As Usual. The vastly different immediate narratives of both films embrace the meta-narrative of the Company as the Ultimate Betrayer without any contradictions whatsoever.
Which brings us to why Alien 3 was shit. Alien 3 was the epitome of the empty arthouse piece, a film that thinks that if it shoves enough imagery and buzzwords and tropes up the narrative turkey that the result will be a wonderful thanksgiving dinner of meaning as opposed to a vomitous turducken of bullshit. In contrast to Jim's claim that the characters in Alien 3 were memorable and significant, I couldn't remember the names of ANY of the characters from that film that weren't in previous ones. (This is the first time in years I've heard the names of these characters -- but I remembered Apone's name after Aliens immediately.) They were a series of played-out, unrealistic cliches -- religious asshole, sympathetic love-interest, obvious first monster victim, and other hack-screenwriter categories. They were cardboard cutouts, unrealized and unimportant: the important thing was that you be impressed with the screenwriters masturbation session and feel moved by the impressive number of ham-fisted cliches that were being tossed at you.
In fact, I think that was the point. I think I was SUPPOSED to forget these characters and their names. I was supposed to be impressed by how meaningful they were. Ripley is Christlike!!!! See how she has her arms!!!! This was cloying, mugging the audience, the film version of "We've played a lot of shows on this tour, but nobody rocks like [Insert Your Town Here] does!" Lookie, I saw a Christ-figure, aren't I clever, this movie is deeeeeeep!!!
I didn't care about a single death in Alien 3, and I don't think the film minded. I was supposed to herp-derp to the religious theme -- there was no "subtext," it was shoved in your face -- and the actual narrative was a detail.
Indeed, the characters of the first two films were far more realized precisely because they weren't in bullshit setpieces designed to spew poorly-conceived mysticism. They felt heavier and more real because their environments were more real. They weren't exaggerated cliches, they were just normal people (a point made by maninahat, above)
The clincher is this: I can find Alien and Aliens in the real world, right now:
Deepwater Horizon.
The Gulf Oil Spill involved the murder of several workers. Not tragic death: murder. Long story short: the oil company knew that doing the op on the cheap could lead fatal accidents and didn't care. That's negligent homicide, a.k.a. murder in any U.S. jurisdiction. Will there be prosecutions? Fuck no. Will the company pay even a significant percentage of the compensation deserved? Fuck no. What about the environmental dama -- ahahahahahaha
Fuck No. The Company wins.
The Company Always Wins. Fuck you forever and ever, you don't have the juice, you lose.
Aliens resonates because that's literally how the world works. We are tricked into accepting FTL travel and biophysically impossible organisms because, holy shit, that's how human society works
now.
Alien 3 is a fucking fever dream that relates to the real world in the exact same way that Naked Lunch relates to Xerox repair. It's self-indulgent bullshit with a xenomorph in it. Were there not a xenomorph in it, it wouldn't get the time of day. We'd ignore it and move on.
The protagonists of the first film weren't space truckers. They were space oil refiners. We can relate to that. That's a "real" job. The protagonists of the second film were space marines. There's a real thing called a marine -- again, there's some grounding. The third film features silly parodies of religious fanatics (which are nasty and complex enough and real life to warrant serious treatment) that we're supposed to pretend are deep and complex, even though they contradict how people actually fucking work at several levels. And there's a bug in it. Weee.
Alien 3 is about basically nothing. It relates to nothing, it tells us nothing. That's why it's rightly panned.
And btw:
SPOILER WARNING (though if you haven't seen Aliens yet, WTF?)
° Hicks isn't meant to be that important in Aliens. Sure he's dull compared to Ripley, but who fucking isn't? Hudson and Vasquez and even fucking Goreman are more compelling because they have a bigger character arc --
and then they fucking die (there's your spoiled material). That's meant to be painful. It is. Hicks dying wouldn't have had nearly as much resonance because he was a Fairly Decent Fellow throughout: he lacks improvement so his death is less tragic. Thus, he
doesn't die. Moral: Space Vietnam Sucks.
° Ripley becomes the surviving protagonist at the last minute precisely because that was an interesting narrative twist for the time. A horror-rape movie where the men die and the only survivor is the strong, smart female who was right-about-everything-but-not-an-asshole-about-it was basically completely fucking unique. Many of us have Alien committed to memory now, but for 1979, that was brand freakn' new, a shocking twist.)
° The xenomorph lifecycle change in Alien 3 wasn't made to make it interesting, it was made in order to shove the alien into the film. Period. Other writers came along and rolled with it. For a BETTER example of how this is done, the alien lifecycle in Alien was completely retooled in Aliens. Again: Alien deleted scene. Originally, the xenomorph sting slowly transformed you into an egg (which produced a facehugger, etc.). In the deleted scene, Ripley finds the crew transforming into eggs and flames them. The original concept of the xenomorph was to make it into a space wasp: it makes eggs and then croaks. Do you know why the xenomorph was in the shuttle at the end? It had
crawled there to die.
Aliens scrapped that because it needed space vietnam which means lots of bugs. And that's fine; the scene was deleted, anyway, so we can roll with that. The change in lifecycle continued the exploration of body-horror and motherhood of the first film: both Ripley and the Queen are just looking out for their kids. Again,
the xenomorphs aren't the bad guys. The Queen dies because Ripley is the more badass mom, not because Ripley is righteous. Fuck righteousness: the Company Always wins.
That's the horror of Alien and Aliens.
The lifecycle changes in Alien 3 were effectively self-indulgent because they carried none of the themes of the first two films forward when making the change. It was meant to be vaguely evocative, nothing more. And nothing was exactly what it achieved.
° Hicks and Newt aren't in Aliens 3 because their actors
refused to be in the movie: Michael Bein was promised a bigger role and then had the rug pulled out under him, so, rather than be diminished to being a cameo, he pulled out. They changed the script as a result. Had the script been, well, about something, this would have been fatal. As it stands, a conceptual empty narrative can handle infinite character changes, so, no loss. Thus, Newt's death is also empty and pointless. There's nothing to it. They wanted to cash in on a third movie, the original actress wasn't going to be around, so fuck it, kill her, move on. There's nothing deep about it: it was an economic decision.
The series was not about "loss." The xenomorphs didn't take shit from Ripley: the Company did.
The xenomorphs are bugs. If termites infest my house because the exterminator only pretends to spray pesticide, I don't shake my fist at the termites, I sue that fucking exterminator. In Alien 3, the bug wins because the screeenwriter fucking hates you. No logic, no reason. It's anime logic: this dangerous animal that's less threatening than the original Alien kills everyone Just Because. Aren't you impressed by our theme!!????!?!?!
Alien 3 wasn't brave: it was a cheap cash-in, a Rorschach blot that hopes that if you push enough of your own hopes for a better film into it it can squeak by with terrible plots and horrible, unrealized characters.
Edit: Paxton != Bein