LIFEFORCE (1985)

In the hallowed halls of horror cinema, writer-director Tobe Hooper has become synonymous with some of the genre’s most enduring nightmares. His seminal masterpiece The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) remains an unparalleled exercise in visceral terror, while his deft adaptation of Stephen King’s Salem’s Lot (1979) is the definitive example of atmospheric dread. Even his overlooked curiosities, including the hallucinatory fever dream of Eaten Alive / Death Trap (1976) and the grotesquely peculiar The Mangler (1995), are oddly fascinating.

Although Hooper left behind an oeuvre that could be described as ‘uneven’ before his untimely passing in 2017, it reflects a filmmaker unafraid to subvert conventions and challenge audience expectations. Nowhere is this fearless spirit more evident than in his audaciously unhinged science-fiction horror opus, Lifeforce. A delirious odyssey of cosmic vampires and apocalyptic ruin, Lifeforce is an extravagant departure from the grounded macabre of Hooper’s breakthrough that showcases a filmmaker unafraid to embrace the gloriously absurd. 

After enjoying considerable critical accolades and substantial box office triumph with Poltergeist (1982), Hooper was on the verge of becoming New Hollywood royalty. Yet, despite this apparent momentum, by 1985 his career had reached an unexpected crossroads. While the international success of Poltergeist was undeniable, whispers of creative conflict with producer Steven Spielberg marred Hooper’s burgeoning artistic reputation. However, a three-picture deal with the notoriously prolific production company, Canon Films, was the panacea that would soothe his pain.

Despite their reputation for sleazy shockers such as the Charles Bronson slasher 10 to Midnight (1983) and Chuck Norris action outing Missing In Action (1984), the studio sought to conquer the sci-fi market. Advertised as “the cinematic sci-fi event of the 1980s”, Lifeforce was the first project of their partnership. Equipped with an unprecedented $25M budget and the promise of complete creative freedom, Hooper embraced the eccentric blend of science-fiction, horror and eroticism with reckless abandon. 

While under the command of Colonel Tom Carlsen (Steve Railsback), the crew aboard the space shuttle Churchill discover a derelict spacecraft hidden within the coma of Halley’s Comet. As the expedition search the mysterious vessel, the astronauts uncover the grotesque remnants of hundreds of desiccated extraterrestrial creatures alongside three perfect humanoids in suspended animation. The three mysterious entities are brought aboard Churchill and transferred to the European Space Research Centre in London for analysis.

However, before a scientific inquiry can begin, the female specimen (Mathilda May) reawakens and commences draining the life essence from all who cross her path. Those unfortunate enough to be consumed by her voracious hunger rise again as reanimated husks with an insatiable thirst for human energy. If they fail to consume the vital energy from their victims, their bodies explode in a shower of ash. When the seductive entity escapes into the city, London’s entire population descends into chaos. With civilisation teetering on the brink of annihilation, Colonel Colin Caine (Peter Firth) joins forces with Carlsen to hunt down the extraterrestrial vampires before she reduces the metropolis to ruin.

There’s no denying that Lifeforce’s notoriety derives from Mathilda May’s (The Jackal) extraterrestrial vampire spending the majority of the 110-minute runtime completely naked. As the enigmatic and predatory ‘Space Girl’, the actress wields her body as a vessel of inescapable power. Without the need for dialogue, she commands every scene she inhabits through sheer physicality, exuding an inescapable beauty and ethereal magnetism that renders her both irresistibly alluring and deeply unsettling. She moves with a methodically controlled gait, with each step carrying the weight of an ancient force akin to a cosmic succubus ready to drain the soul from those she encounters.

The sight of the young actress, with her breasts poised, walking through the streets of London and the English countryside as a harbinger of destruction is both ridiculous and unsettling, a combination that encapsulates Lifeforce’s bizarre appeal. In the hands of a less talented filmmaker, May’s conspicuous nudity could have devolved into a distasteful ploy to titillate predominantly male audiences. However, unlike the forced eroticism of many exploitation horrors, Hooper captures the buxom French beauty with an authentic reverence for her elegance, imbuing her presence with an eerie, dreamlike quality that feels akin to ancient myth rather than cheap voyeurism.

As arresting as May’s presence may be, the entire ensemble exhibits a striking level of commitment as each actor fully embraces the deliriously outlandish material. Steve Railsback’s performance as Colonel Tom Carlsen is the very definition of fevered intensity, providing an operatic display of raw emotion that’s simultaneously compelling and unpredictable. Very few actors could match the manic fervour that Railsback brings to the role, a quality that previously served him well during his chilling portrayal of Charles Manson in Helter Skelter (1976). He channels that same unnerving energy playing Carlsen as a man on the verge of psychic collapse, consumed by his telepathic connection to the extraterrestrial temptress.

Counterbalancing Railsback’s urgency, Peter Firth (The Hunt for Red October) delivers a calculated performance as Colonel Colin Caine. His clipped delivery and rigid composure provide the audience with a necessary anchor amid the escalating absurdity. Yet beneath his bureaucratic surface are glimmers of a ruthless pragmatism that suggests his character is not merely a reactionary force but a man with his own concealed depths.

While much of Hooper’s oeuvre revels in the grotesque and visceral horrors of our world, Lifeforce ventures beyond the metaphysical realms and focuses on a plane of existence beyond the physical. Poltergeist flirted with the paranormal, but its spectral terrors remained largely unseen. In contrast, Lifeforce saturates the screen with ethereal imagery and fully commits to its interstellar nightmare. It’s a radical departure from Hooper’s typically earthbound aesthetic, but this divergence is precisely what makes it a fascinating entry into his filmography. It sees the filmmaker exploring unfamiliar territory and creating something visually fascinating. It demonstrates that Hooper is capable of crafting something raw and minimalist, such as Texas Chain Saw Massacre, and as poignant as the suburban supernatural Poltergeist. Yet, he is also capable of crafting a delirious combination of horror and science-fiction that balances precariously between brilliance and madness.

Much of its eccentricity can be traced to Dan O’Bannon (Alien) and Don Jakoby’s (Arachnophobia) adaptation of Colin Wilson’s novel The Space Vampires. The screenplay forgoes the author’s somewhat grounded premise and intellectual meditations, fashioning an unwieldy apocalyptic spectacle. The source material is more procedural in its approach, reading like a philosophical exercise masquerading as an extraterrestrial detective story that meticulously deconstructs the possible origins of the vampire myth. The horror functions primarily as metaphysical speculation rather than grotesque physical monstrosities. However, O’Bannon and Jakoby’s adaptation catapults Wilson’s text into a delirious realm of pulp horror and cosmic existentialism. There’s a kaleidoscope of influences drawing from the cinematic lexicon of 2001: Space Odyssey (1968) and Dawn of the Dead (1978), to Alien (1979) and Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979). These conflicting tones and genres don’t always coalesce coherently, but it’s an intoxicating combination too excessive to be ignored and too absurd to be taken seriously.

Even if the many interwoven strands of influences threaten its identity, the final act possesses a certain gothic grandeur that resembles a fanciful British Hammer horror. As the narrative unfolds, Lifeforce owes an unmistakable debt to the paranoid intellectualism of Nigel Kneale’s Quatermass anthology. A cosmic invasion of Earth in which vampiric extraterrestrials harvest human life resembles The Quatermass Experiment (1953), whereas the apocalyptic climax set amidst a collapsing London besieged by a supernatural force echoes the cataclysmic paranoia of Quatermass and the Pit (1967).

The scenes of spectral energy erupting from bodies, hordes of the undead shambling through the metropolis, and the overwhelming Lovecraftian atmosphere are all extensions of Kneale’s work, draped in Hooper’s signature excess. It may lack the rigorous intellectualism of Quatermass and the Pit, but it’s during this feverish commitment to spectacle that Lifeforce discovers what it was always meant to be. It’s an unhinged homage to British sci-fi horror of the 1950s and 1960s, filtered through the lens of a filmmaker utterly unafraid to embrace the excesses of 1980s genre cinema.

While its narrative may be undoubtedly disjointed and unquestionably uneven, Lifeforce benefits from several different elements. Perhaps the single most respected individual in the visual effects industry, who redefined cinematic spectacle with his pioneering work on Star Wars (1977), John Dykstra immediately infuses the narrative with an unexpected level of grandeur that elevates its B-movie premise. The opening sequence of Carlsen and his crew investigating the derelict alien spacecraft is an inspired piece of production design and atmospheric tension. The haunting imagery of drifting astronauts, monolithic extraterrestrial architecture, and swirling cosmic clouds conjures a sense of otherworldly tension that’s palpable.

Equally commendable are the gloriously grotesque depictions of Space Girl’s victims. Nick Maley’s (Superman: The Movie) frightfully desiccated corpses are intricately detailed, with eyes and animatronic facial features so sympathetically realised that they are almost hypnotic as they twitch and gasp during their final moments. One particularly striking moment, involving a guard’s cadaver explosively reanimating before collapsing into dust, is a particular highlight and a rare instance of visceral terror. It’s a moment that wouldn’t feel out of place in The Thing (1982), despite John Carpenter’s seminal masterwork remaining leagues beyond Lifeforce in terms of discipline and artistry.

Unfortunately, the production of Lifeforce was plagued by the kind of interference expected from the infamously impulsive Canon Films. Contributing to its fragmented quality, Dan O’Bannon and Don Jakoby’s screenplay underwent multiple rewrites, whereas Tobe Hooper’s original 127-minute cut was ruthlessly trimmed to a more commercially viable 100-minute runtime. Upon its release, critics mercilessly dismissed it as an incoherent spectacle, resulting in an unsuccessful box office run. It grossed a meagre $11.6M against a budget that exceeded $25M and became one of Canon’s most disastrous financial missteps. Nevertheless, Lifeforce ultimately found redemption among horror enthusiasts through subsequent release on home video. Its delirious combination of cosmic horror, sexualised vampirism, and apocalyptic grandeur continues to endear audiences four decades later. With neither budget nor scope restraining him, Hooper unleashes something so utterly ridiculous and perplexingly ambitious that it’s an anomaly in genre cinema.

UK | 1985 | 101 MINUTES | 2:35:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH

Limited Edition 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray Special Features:

Showcasing a wonderful 2160p Ultra HD transfer, Lifeforce has received a marvellous 4K restoration courtesy of Arrow Video. This two-disc set contains the truncated Theatrical Cut and the extended International Cut, and both are presented in their original aspect ratio of 2.35:1. Each transfer has been sourced from the original 35mm camera negative, and director Tobe Hooper himself oversaw the restoration.

For anyone who’s seen Arrow’s previous Blu-ray presentation, this release is a marvellous upgrade. The levels of detail are deceptively sharp, and astute viewers will appreciate the transfer’s ability to showcase the finest textures. Individual clothing threads remain discernible, and the clarity of the technology aboard the Churchill spacecraft is also incredibly impressive. Flesh tones appear natural, and facial complexions are visible, revealing the finest blemishes and beads of sweat on Carlsen’s forehead. The addition of Dolby Vision HDR adds a pleasing visual element to the presentation, intensifying the already wonderful colour palette while providing an appreciable boost in contrast and brightness balance.

Despite Lifeforce largely taking place in space or the evening, the high dynamic range grading intensifies the rich colour palette as much as possible. The apocalyptic climax situated inside St Paul’s Cathedral is awash in vibrant primaries, whereas nighttime escapades around London look phenomenal, with black levels remaining almost impenetrable. The film grain has been beautifully rendered to maintain a filmic veneer, and there aren’t any noticeable noise fluctuations throughout. There are no serious stability issues to report, with damage marks and debris having been removed as best as possible. Overall, the picture enjoys a substantial improvement and looks considerably better than the Blu-ray predecessor.

Both Ultra HD versions of the Theatrical Cut and the International Cut feature two audio tracks with optional English subtitles. Arrow Video provides an English DTS-HD 5.1 Master Audio mix and an English DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 Stereo mix. While most presentations benefit from a Dolby Atmos upgrade, Lifeforce’s DTS-HD 5.1 Master Audio is regrettably problematic. Henry Mancini’s (The Pink Panther) orchestral score sounds spectacular and ranks highly alongside other classics written by John Williams (Jaws) and Jerry Goldsmith (L.A. Confidential) from the same era.

However, certain elements and individual sound effects from the rear channels are distractingly loud and significantly higher than the remaining soundstage. This occurs particularly throughout the final act during the prolonged moments of violence. The better and more preferred listening option is the DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 stereo mix. This presentation sounds more natural and boasts excellent fidelity and dynamism. Supporting sound effects are spread evenly through the rear channels, and the dialogue is rendered clearly and dispersed primarily at the front. Various atmospherics reverberate nicely through the side and rear channels, generating a constantly active and highly engaging soundscape, whereas bass brings some appreciable weight and depth, remaining primarily at the front.

• Brand new 4K restoration by Arrow Films of the 116-minute International Cut, plus a 4K restoration of the 101-minute Theatrical Cut from the original negative.
• Original lossless stereo audio plus optional 5.1 DTS-HD MA Surround and Dolby Atmos remixes for both cuts.
• Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard-of-hearing for both cuts.
• Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Dan Mumford.
• Collector’s booklet featuring writing on the film by Frank Collins.

Disc 1–International Cut

• 4K (2160p) Ultra HD Blu-ray presentation in Dolby Vision.
• Audio commentary by director Tobe Hooper, moderated by filmmaker Tim Sullivan.
• Audio commentary by visual effects artist Douglas Smith, moderated by filmmaker and scholar Howard S. Berger.
• Audio commentary with make-up effects artist Nick Maley, moderated by filmmaker Michael Felsher.
• Isolated music and effects track.
• Cannon Fodder: The Making of Lifeforce.
• Space Vampires in London, an archive interview with Tobe Hooper.
• Dangerous Beauty, an archive interview with Mathilda May.
• Carlsen’s Curse, an archive interview with Steve Railsback.
• Textless opening sequence.
• Theatrical trailers.

Disc 2—Theatrical Cut

• 4K (2160p) Ultra HD Blu-ray presentation in Dolby Vision.
• Isolated music and effects track.
• Interview outtakes from Mark Hartley’s Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films, featuring Hooper, Armstrong, Grover, and Messenger.
• Split screen comparison with TV version.

Cast & Crew

director: Tobe Hooper.
writers: Dan O’ Bannon & Don Jakoby (based on the novel ‘Space Vampires’ by Colin Wilson).
starring: Steve Railsback, Peter Firth, Mathilda May, Frank Finlay & Patrick Stewart.