I’ve always felt that 1995’s Species was something of a missed opportunity. If the film had been made later, with less focus on making it’s shapely, shifty, shape-shifting more of a sex object and more on the perils of modern dating, we might have had a provocative classic for the ages. Just think about it; a movie that sees sexual predators have their roles violently reversed by a pneumatic female who can defend herself, while the needs of her biology drives her in ways she can’t explain? The film could have been both immensely overdue and incredibly ahead of its time if handled in a smarter way, but instead we got a fun, but decidedly dumb B-movie full of tits, gore, a stuttering Forrest Whitaker and some cool H.R. Giger creature designs.
But if Species was a B-movie, the surely the inevitable sequel that touched down in earthly cinemas a few years later surely must be classed as a Z-movie as I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sequel go for the lowest common denominator with as much gusto as Species II.
Years after their experiments with alien DNA went Pete Tong with dangerously horny results, mankind continues to tempt extraterrestrial fate when a manned mission to Mars suddenly goes dark for an unexplained reason, some familiar problems arise when the mission returns home. All-American poster boy, Commander Patrick Ross doesn’t seem to be himself anymore as his increased libido has him indulging in threesomes once he’s safely back on Earth soil, but what is more alarming is the women he beds immediately give birth to enlarged children with explosive results. Somehow, during that blackout, Ross has been infected with the same alien force that created Sil and once again mankind is in danger of being “fucked into oblivion” (not my words) if his spawn grows to adulthood.
Thankfully, the military decides to strong arm the two surviving members of the Sil incident, but while misanthropic merc Preston Lennox brings the guns, Dr. Laura Baker has something far more vital but for more risky. It seems that Laura, for some reason, has raised a clone of Sil, lowered her sex drive and named her Eve to see what can be learned – but as Eve seems telepathically linked whenever Patrick gets aroused, it means that Preston, Laura and Dennis Gamble, the only member of the Mars mission not to get infected with an alien STI, have a means to track this horrifying himbo from hell.
Can the good guys trust this neutered version of Sil as she gets ever closer to the only thing her biological commands have ever wanted: a perfect mate? Will Patrick’s creepy children manage to mature? Does this movie seemingly want to be the cinematic equivalent of a dumbass who constantly thinks with his dick? If the answers of those questions aren’t answered soon, Earth will literally be screwed.
If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to helm a cash-in sequel purely because you need a pay check, you could do a lot worse than seeking out the Species II director’s commentary that lurks somewhere on the DVD release. In it, director Peter Medak takes a verbal flamethrower to his own work, detailing in a refreshingly candid nature about dealing with sub-par effects, a dwindling budget, a virtually nonexistent script and hiring actor buddies in supporting parts to save on cash. It’s honest, it’s brutal and it’s a far more realistic look at movie making that the type of back slapping, self congratulatory stuff you usually get, in in many ways, it’s required listening if you have a desire to get into the industry and it’s possibly the only real piece of artistic merit that Species II contains. Of course, that doesn’t mean you won’t have fun if you accept and embrace the awfulness.
For a start, Medak was the man who gave us George C. Scott ghost flick, The Changeling; Gary Oldman crime freak out, Romeo Is Bleeding and a whole bunch of sneering Londoners in The Krays, but not even he can be bothered to try and tease out any social commentary from a film so blunt, Snoop Dogg could probably smoke it. If I didn’t know any better, the film is sort of trying to be a Quatermass film matched with the sort of 90s, direct to video, soft core trash that usually featured the likes of Shannon Tweed, but it’s so mired in ramshackle plotting, nonsensical characters choices and idiotic dialogue, it’s almost the film itself is in and therefore can’t make a single intelligent decision.
The big twist here is now the alien threat is a horny male who has essentially been given a blast of extraterrestrial aphrodisiac that’s swapped out his DNA for that of the alien equivalent of horny frat boy at spring break, but chooses not to bore itself by examining the change in sexual politics that comes with a sexually aggressive man. There are times when you feel that the movie might accidently stumble across an interesting theme, such as Ross trying to take responsibility for his violent sexcapades with a shotgun, or a moment where the white, handsome, privileged celebrity drags a screaming potential conquest out of a crowded supermarket and no one notices. However as it looks like it’s about to make a point, the movie snaps it’s attention back to focus on a returning Natasha Henstridge running in slow motion in a summer dress.
Also feeling like a lost opportunity is the recasting of “Sil” as an unpredictable ally that literally makes no sense other than it copies a similar arc from Terminator 2. Why is Laura so protective of Eve’s life when the reason she cloned her in the first place is to test ways to kill the alien threat en mass if it ever rises again? If getting Eve aroused a massively bad idea (all the staff are female) why is she allowed to watch the Dukes Of Hazard on television? And why is poir Henstridge the only people here who is taking this movie even remotely seriously? You can’t help but feel bad for her as she’s once again unironically reduced to a sexual object once again, however, taken in the sleazy, trash manner I’m assuming it’s supposed to be viewed in, if you’re looking for laugh-out-loud, so-bad-it’s-good filmmaking, Species II is your guy.
All the other actors attack their laughably shitty lines like they’re getting a 15% bonus for overacting and Michael Madsen, Marg Helgenberger and Mykelti Williamson all seem to be in a running battle to see who can come up with the most bizarre line reading that they can (for my money, Madsen only just takes it with “Welcome to the maternity ward…. from Hell.”). Also having the time of his life is FX creator Steve Johnson, who out of everyone present knows most what the movie us out to achieve and dutifully supplies numerous scenes of exploding wombs, suffocating tentacles, undulating cocoons, writhing alien bodies and a male alien who has the body type of a dreadlocked, skinned horse for some reason. The plotting may be awful and the sexual politics may be hilariously off kilter, but you can’t say you don’t get your sleazy money’s worth.
As is the case of movies like this, terms like “good” and “bad” become subjective and while there’s precious little here to entice serious movie goers, I still maintain Peter Medak’s brilliantly informative commentary remains one of genre cinema’s hidden gems. However, if that doesn’t float your boat, Species has now become a franchise that literally invites everyone to get fucked…
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