Roses Have Thoughts

If you’ve ever thought about what would happen if the campiness of Hammer horror, 1950s flying saucer flicks, and a cheeky Euro-vampire movie collided in a cinematic blender, you might get something like Lifeforce. This wonderfully chaotic sci-fi horror gem from Tobe Hooper, the director behind The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and the Spielberg-produced Poltergeist, was released in 1985 by Cannon Films.

The film kicks off with the crew of the space shuttle Churchill making a wild discovery: a massive alien ship tucked away in Halley’s Comet. Inside, they encounter desiccated bat-like creatures and three humanoid figures in glass coffins, including the ethereal Mathilda May, who remains mostly unclothed throughout the film, floating between seductive and terrifying. Predictably, they bring these specimens back to Earth, and as you can guess, everything spirals into chaos.

Hooper crafts the film with an odd mix of conviction and surreal madness, not quite sure if he’s diving into high-concept sci-fi, Gothic horror, or a midnight cult classic. What unfolds is a wild ride, ricocheting from astronaut melodrama to apocalyptic disaster, culminating in a London overrun by zombies as alien vampires siphon off humanity’s Life Force. The tonal shifts are dizzying, yet there’s an infectious commitment to excess that keeps you glued to the screen.

Steve Railsback stars as astronaut Tom Carlsen, a man linked inextricably to the alien woman. His intense and sweaty performance flirts with parody, but it fits the film’s off-the-wall vibe. Peter Firth plays Colonel Caine, the stoic voice of reason trying to contain the chaos, while Frank Finlay adds gravitas as a Van Helsing-like doctor. And let’s not forget Patrick Stewart, who delivers a memorable performance in a small role, possessed and channeling Mathilda May with unsettling charm.

The film’s special effects are a curious blend of the impressive and the dodgy. John Dykstra’s space visuals still hold a certain grandeur, and the practical creature effects possess a gritty charm. However, the energy-drained victims, reduced to rubbery husks, often straddle the line between grotesque and unintentionally funny. Still, there’s something admirable about its ambitious practical techniques, especially in an era before digital shortcuts became the norm.

The standout is undeniably Mathilda May, who delivers an almost entirely wordless performance, relying heavily on body language. Her portrayal is a mesmerizing mix of allure and horror, and whether you find it exploitative or integral to the film’s charm likely depends on your tolerance for Cannon Films’ signature brand of B-movie excess.

Lifeforce is far from a perfect film. It’s messy, overlong, and completely bonkers. But it’s never boring. Watching it feels like flipping through a fever dream instead of a traditional narrative, all backed by Henry Mancini’s grand score. Despite its flaws, this cult classic earns its place in the genre simply by being audacious.

Verdict: 3.5/5 – Not a hidden gem, but an outrageously entertaining slice of sci-fi horror insanity.

IMDB