Where does James Cameron’s “Aliens” rank among the other Alien movies? That depends on who you ask. Some might say it’s the best, while others put it just behind the original (spoiler alert: it’s the best). Regardless, there’s no denying that this 1986 film shifted gears, moving the franchise from horror to horror-tinged sci-fi action and paving an alternate path for the future.
As Cameron stated in an interview with Lofficier, the plan always was “to do a film that was not as scary… it’s scary, but it’s not as scary, but more intense, and I like to use the word, exhilarating. Because I think you get exhilarated by the intensity of the kind of action that’s in this film.”
In terms of story progression, the sequel’s shake-up makes complete sense. Sigourney Weaver’s Ellen Ripley survived the Xenomorph in “Alien”, but now she must conquer her fears and face the grim creature once again. This time, she has allies and firepower on her side, though most of those Colonial Marines turn out to be about as useful as French kissing a beehive.
“Aliens” exploded into a monster hit, both financially and critically, suggesting that Cameron has a Midas touch when it comes to sequels. Famous movie critic Roger Ebert called it “a superb example of filmmaking craft”, and it’s tough to argue that point. Yet what’s amazing to ponder is how “Aliens” nearly fell apart several times before it actually happened.
Despite 1979’s “Alien” turning a big profit on paper, Hollywood’s accounting practices are more baffling than Palpatine’s return in “Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker”.
Somehow, “Alien” was deemed a flop, and 20th Century Fox remained conflicted about a sequel – so much so that it almost sold the rights to the “Rambo” producers of all people (imagine the crossover potential, though, as John Rambo guns down a horde of Xenomorphs while Jerry Goldsmith’s iconic score blares in the background).
After much oohing, aahing, and handwringing, the studio relented and selected Cameron to put together a treatment based on the impressive nature of his script for “The Terminator”.
In 1983, Cameron only needed three days to put together a 45-page treatment, which can be read here. The nuts and bolts of what would become “Aliens” are mostly present in this document, but Fox turned its nose up at the filmmaker’s proposal. The studio certainly wasn’t escaping allegations that it looked for more reasons not to do the movie than to proceed.
What “Aliens” required was a champion from within – somebody to convince the studio execs that they were leaving money on the table by ignoring this franchise. This came with the hiring of producer Larry Gordon, who pushed for the sequel in the four walls of the boardroom.
After the success of “The Terminator”, Cameron returned to the fray as writer-director, while his then-girlfriend-soon-to-be-wife Gail Anne Hurd boarded the film as a producer.
With the script submitted and Cameron cocked, locked, and ready to shoot in 1985, a new problem arose: budget. Cameron’s camp argued that “Aliens” could be done for $15.5 million, but Fox’s bean counters feared it would be closer to $35 million, and nobody considered the poor billionaires at stake.
Fox offered $12 million. “We walked out and said, ‘Thanks, we’ll do something else,'” Cameron told the Los Angeles Times.
Behind the scenes, Gordon managed to convince his bosses to fork out the extra money for the production. With that hurdle successfully navigated, Cameron was back in the driver’s seat and ready to head off to LV-426.
Next though, Fox decided to suggest the unthinkable at the time: “Aliens” without Sigourney Weaver. It’s a decision that reeks of a straight-to-video sequel, the kind of thing you’d expect to be fronted by a Kevin Sorbo type.
Cameron, on the other hand, was under the impression that Weaver had been contractually locked in for a sequel, but that wasn’t the case at all. Now it was up to Cameron to convince Weaver to do the film. He met with Weaver, and the meeting seemed positive enough, but her agents wanted a big payday for her – and rightfully so. Fox refused, and so Cameron and Hurd quit… again; they weren’t going to make the movie without Weaver.
Frustrated but trying to roll the dice on this flailing project one last time, Cameron pulled a sneaky trick, as he revealed to GQ years later. Weaver shared the same agency as Arnold Schwarzenegger, so Cameron phoned Schwarzenegger’s agent and told him how he was about to start rewriting the “Aliens” script to remove Ripley entirely. The news travelled faster than a Xenomorph through a ventilation shaft.
“The deal was done in 12 hours after that,” Cameron said. “So I never wrote a word of that hypothetical story that I said I was gonna do, that I had no intention of writing anyway. So anyway, it worked, and Sigourney got her million bucks, and everybody was happy.”
As far as most movie productions go, “Aliens” was mostly smooth sailing when it began to shoot. Deadlines were met, it didn’t go over budget, and the studio let them get on with it. The biggest challenge involved the final cut – with Fox wanting the picture to have a two-hour runtime to secure more theatrical screenings.
Cameron relented, taking out his scissors and cutting a few superfluous scenes, but the film still wasn’t quite at the magic mark. Having cut everything that he could, Cameron explained that any further amendments would destroy the story and damage the integrity of the movie. This time, Fox didn’t argue and stuck with the filmmaker.
History confirms the right call was made here. The franchise now follows the blueprint laid by Cameron’s “Alien” more than Ridley Scott’s “Jaws in space” foundation. While there’s always a survival element in these movies, the action-centric approach is a critical part of the series’ DNA. Sure, the protagonists remain scared, but they receive the opportunity to light up the Xenomorphs and show those ugly monsters who’s the boss.
Looking back now, it’s unbelievable to think that Fox almost tanked “Aliens” with its studio shenanigans. A classic emerged from the chaos of inflated egos, penny-pinching, and blood pressure-raising frustration.
It’s proof that in Hollywood, no one can hear you scream (nor do they care), so it’s up to you to find a way to survive.
