

Pitch Black: don't let the sun do down on me

Pitch Black operates on the same premise as Asimov's "Nightfall": when the
sun goes down, the calamity starts. In "Nightfall," however, what darkness
brings with it is social upheaval, the breakdown of civilization, all that,
which is to say the cycle of destruction functions as some kind of vague
statement, warning us that the same thing can happen to us if we panic in
the face of the unknown, if we don't pay heed to the old stories, etc. With
Pitch Black, as there are some nocturnal aliens that would do Sigourney
Weaver proud, the imperative is worlds simpler: just don't let the sun set
on you.

This isn't to say that the movie is unsophisticated, however. Far from it.
The attention paid to the photography and the editing here is your first
indication, how director David Twohy says so much with camera movement and
composition that it takes the burden off the characters, allows their
dialogue to be that much less contrived. The second indication is simply the
quality of writing, how Jim and Ken Wheat manage to graft so many disparate
conventions into Pitch Black, yet do it subtly enough that things never
quite become predictable--or at least not that kind of predictable we're
accustomed to with effects-dependent horror.

It all starts with a worst-case scenario, a deep space transport proving
that Con-Air rule, that convicts are far too heavy to remain aloft for long.
So, in a camera-shaking fit that would do Blair Witch proud, Pitch Black's
2001-ish looking ship crash lands, and, per Supernova, the captain is the
first to die, meaning that now a leader has to emerge from the ragtag
survivors. Meet Caroline Fry (Radha Mitchell), who, as all final girls must,
goes by the gender inspecific 'Fry' and isn't afraid to get her hands dirty.
Getting top-billing along with her are Johns (Cole Hauser, with a
"nickel-slick" badge) and his escape-artist prisoner Riddick (Vin Diesel,
still anti-gun here, as with Iron Giant), perhaps the naturalest born killer
ever.

For an unusually long time, too, there are no Starship Trooper bugs to
contend with, just a sun-scorched, washed-out planet, shot with the same
lens as Three Kings, it seems. That bright. It's all about contrast, though,
setting us up for nightfall, which, due to some Thing-type discoveries
(abandoned research post, etc), Fry & Co. slowly learn to fear. At times it
feels a lot like Screamers, just without that Phillip K. Dick distrust of
reality. As with Screamers, however, there is some distrust between the
characters. Will Riddick kill them all? Will he steal the ship and leave
them for alien-bait? To Pitch Black's credit, you really don't know until
the final frames, simply because it's hard to tell who the main character
here is. You expect it to be Fry, the final girl, but then, too, Riddick's
voice-over started the whole thing, introduced us to everyone. As if this
was his story. So you just don't know, and that's refreshing.

You do, however, know that, once nightfall catches them unaware, anyone
without a name is expendable. And these hammerheaded bats of space make
short and graphic work of them. That's all to be expected. But then there's
the tagline, too--'Fight evil with evil.' Which is to say that, in the
absence of society, Riddick's sociopathic tendencies aren't that bad, might
in fact be what saves this crew, what redeems him. Nevertheless, though--and
counter--intuitively-Pitch Black's strongest moments are after the crash and
before the darkness comes, when Twohy can effectively fill the frame with so
much, so fast. After dark, he can't do that, and Pitch Black gets reduced
down to action and special effects. Still, as far as off-world sci-fi goes,
Pitch Black combines strong writing and excellent direction which
establishes it well above the crowd, makes the genre somehow more
legitimate. And, as far as the horror-aspects go, prepare for something
different. Fry could very well be the final, final girl.

(c)2000 Stephen Graham Jones, http://www.cinemuck.com