Interestingly, it only took four people, ringleader Dan O’Bannon (Alien, Total Recall, The Return of the Living Dead, Dead & Buried), sidekick Don Jakoby (Arachnophobia), and the uncredited efforts of Michael Armstrong and Olaf Pooley, to script the mind rape directed by Tobe Hooper (Poltergeist, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, The Funhouse) called Lifefore, the film which severed as the convincing blow to anyone who issued the auteur benefit of the doubt in regards to his flailing career.

While researching Halley’s Comet, the crew upon the space shuttle Churchill discovers three suspension chambers containing humans. Shortly after returning to London, one of the compartments opens, releasing a nude female (Mathilda May). Those at the science lab quickly realize that, though human in appearance, the beings are actually alien vampires. Apocalypse threatens to ravage the city as Colonel Tom Carlsen (Steve Railsback, The Stunt Man, The Devil’s Rejects, Storytelling) attempts to rid Earth of the alien plague.

Lifeforce is a plethora. A plethora of what? Stuff really, considering the film incorporates excessive amounts of gratuitous nudity, 1980’s special effects electricity, “tanatology” (not “thanatology” mind you), mummified remains, psychic connections, Patrick Stewart, zombies, and new age vampires all packaged in a sci-horror wrapper.

Let’s begin with the fact that Lifeforce is utopian sci-fi in that the film opens with a British space mission (of course, to make the scenario plausible, it is a joint effort with Americans). After Churchill’s crew discovers the humans-cum-alien vampires, the first of which (natch, a woman–I wonder which gender the producers are preying upon? You can almost envision teen testosterone levels plummet as Colonel Caine reports, “Now she has clothes”) runs around nude through a quarter of the film, we find that these particular parasites don’t feed on blood, oh no, these are new age space vampires. New age space vampires settle for nothing less than lifeforce. Yes, in order to make sure we get the metaphor, it is laid out for us via the mouthpiece named Doctor Hans Fallada (Frank Finlay, The Pianist), “I mean, in a sense we’re all vampires. We drain energy from other life forms.” Also, for those unable to do their own research, the filmmaker’s have a BBC commentator (John Edmunds) outline that “disastrous” means “evil star” in Latin (how many broadcasters . . . ? Never mind). Afterward, we are then thrust into a menagerie of animatronic special effects which should have been comprised of skinny actors in make up before, bam, Patrick Stewart flashes briefly on the screen but, before departing, locks lips (his first time for the camera) with Colonel Tom.

What went wrong with Lifeforce outside of the fact it was made? Klaus Kinski, John Gielgud, and Olivia Hussey had sense enough to jump ship (pun intended) before the project got on its feet, perhaps sensing that a verbose sci-fi horror flick which includes most every imaginable genre element might not be the best career move. Not only are we given a sci-fi adventure where the characters explicate every single aspect of what is going on onscreen, we even have inadvertent bad jokes throughout, making the movie all the more tedious. For example, a male victim, only partially drained of his lifeforce from May’s character–whose method of seduction is her feminine (and nude) charm–is unable to talk to the police because he’s–guess what? that’s right–“totally exhausted.” Ha, ha, ha, a hem. Moving on . . .

Tobe Hooper’s Lifeforce, much life David Lynch’s attempt and subsequent failure at making a sci-fi epic with Dune, is unbalanced and, unlike its predecessor, is a mismatch of genres which are never convincingly placed alongside one another as the audience’s intelligent is berated by line after line of plot explication as we watch miscued special effects and Patrick Stewart. It should come as no surprise that the B-work (more like C- or D+) was slated to be a blockbuster as the production company dumped twenty-five million into the project which got less than half of its moola back in the end. What else can be expected from a movie which houses a spacecraft modeled after an asparagus?

Biggest head-slapper:

“The Churchill’s escape pod is missing.”

“What’s that mean? Did someone escape?”

Second place: “Assume we know nothing, which is understating the matter.”

-Egregious Gurnow