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John Carpenter's THE THING

  • Writer: Eddie Middleton
    Eddie Middleton
  • Mar 14
  • 8 min read

Updated: Mar 16




Episode 2: The Thing


On today’s episode we’ll be looking at John Carpenter’s The Thing: A film I come back to once a year when the weather chills my bones and the isolation of winter starts to creep in.


A group of scientists in Antarctica are just trying to mind their own business when—BAM!—a Norwegian helicopter comes out of nowhere, chasing a dog like it owes them money. Turns out, the "dog" is actually a shape-shifting alien that’s really into cosplay—specifically, imitating anything (or anyone) it touches.


Enter Kurt Russell, rocking a glorious beard and a bad attitude, who quickly realizes that trust is about to be as rare as a warm summer breeze in Antarctica. One by one, the team starts getting picked off, with paranoia spreading faster than bad office gossip. The alien does its best impression of various crew members, leading to some horrifying (but kind of impressive) body horror transformations.


There’s fire, there’s flamethrowers, there’s blood tests gone wrong, and there’s a guy whose head literally sprouts legs and scuttles away like an evil crab. The whole situation devolves into chaos, and in the end, only Russell’s MacReady and another survivor, Childs, are left sitting in the snow, side-eyeing each other, wondering if one of them is secretly an alien popsicle.

With no trust, no escape, and no hope, they do what any reasonable person would: sit back, share a drink, and embrace the fact that they’re probably doomed. The end!


Moral of the story? Always be suspicious of dogs, never work in Antarctica, and when in doubt, flamethrower everything.


And now for the Film Five: 5 behind the scenes tidbits you should know about the making of this film.


1. Real Explosions, Real Danger

The Norwegian camp that MacReady and his crew investigate? That was actually the remains of the set they had already blown up! Rather than waste money, the crew filmed those scenes after torching the main outpost for the finale. Talk about efficiency!


2. Dog Acting on Another Level

The husky that first brings the alien into the camp wasn’t just any dog—it was a trained wolfdog named Jed. His eerie, unnaturally calm movements were so good that John Carpenter said he never had to reshoot a single take. Jed might just be the best actor in the whole film!


3. The Legendary Blood Test Scene Almost Didn’t Happen

The intense blood test scene—where MacReady forces everyone to prove they’re human—almost didn’t make it into the final script. Carpenter struggled to come up with a reliable way for the characters to detect The Thing. When he finally landed on the blood reaction concept, it became one of the film’s most iconic moments.


4. The Special Effects Were a One-Man Horror Show

The film’s grotesque creature effects were done by a 22-year-old genius named Rob Bottin, who worked seven days a week for over a year and ended up hospitalized due to exhaustion. Meanwhile, legendary effects artist Stan Winston stepped in to help with the final dog transformation scene.


5. The Ending? Still a Mystery!

Even the cast and crew weren’t sure whether MacReady or Childs were still human in the final scene. Carpenter has refused to give a definitive answer, leaving fans to argue over clues like their breath in the cold air, the bottle MacReady hands over, and the eerie ambiguity of the final shot.

Bonus lesson? If you’re working on a sci-fi horror film, get some rest, respect wolfdogs, and always keep a flamethrower handy.


Now let’s move on to a bit of a deeper look at what the film means to me (as well as other fans the world over) and also make some pit stops along the way that reveal more about me…and most likely, more about some of you too. After all, film may be subjective at times but even then…horror nerds have to stick together.

I wasn’t aware of the release of John Carpenter’s The Thing upon its release in 1982. A film about uncertainty would probably have been apropos considering I have moved around a lot as a kid creating quite a bit of uncertainty in my own little life.But to think that the same weekend this film was released the phenomenon of E.T. was also in theaters is a testament to a time when the sheer quality of films at the movies in any given weekend was astounding. Sure, we have tentpole films that are released with much hype and there are also films released alongside them: sometimes lesser known and sometimes other potential juggernauts. But two films about two very different kinds of aliens, in theaters, at the same time and it’s easy to see why E.T. would dominate and The Thing would be in and out pretty quickly. In the end though, while E.T. is certainly a powerful and magical piece of motion picture history, it’s my belief that John Carpenter’s re-imaging of The Thing from Another Planet has hand legs for so very long because it is about issues we still deal with to this day…and, to add to that, issues humanity has been dealing with since we emerged from the Garden of Eden. Trust, character, loneliness and fear of the unknown are all issues that date back to Biblical times and are gruesomely displayed and powerfully portrayed in Carpenter’s chilly sci-fi epic.Over the years I have gravitated to my own favorite film directors. In film school you were almost looked down on if Spielberg was on your list of faves. I rebelled against that. Telling stories that could touch the hearts and minds of as many people as possible, give them a chance to escape this cold dark world for a little while and display the true magic of what cinema could be made me a Spielberg fan and put him in second place for favorite directors for me. But just above him, in the number one space, was John Carpenter. His films had a sense of mystery, and understanding of camera use (with much a great deal of respect to the amazing Dead Cundy’s cinematography) and a magic all Carpenter’s own.A man with a love of cinema, especially westerns, Carpenter imbued his pictures with cues from those westerns and into my mind. I have never been a huge western fan…so it’s a testament all unto itself that his direction and inspiration would somehow—in a sort of off-shoot way—make me appreciate a genre of film I hadn’t considered much interest in before.Carpenter’s films fascinated me, thrilled me and to this very day there are so many of them that I have to watch at least once a year (often at specific times throughout the year when seasons change). My love of cinema was ignited by John’s films and the music score he created for each. As a brief side note, the great Ennio Morricone scored The Thing with John giving us (and Carpenter) an opportunity to bridge the gap between the score of a Western and the score of Science Fiction Horror film. And boy does it work.


John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982) is a masterclass in paranoia, distrust, and survival in extreme isolation. Set in an Antarctic research station where a shape-shifting alien infiltrates and imitates the crew, the film explores the terrifying idea that anyone—friend, colleague, or even oneself—could already be “infected.” Though The Thing was released decades before COVID-19, its themes resonate more than ever in a post-pandemic United States. The film’s core fears—paranoia, distrust, isolation, and the breakdown of social order—mirror many of the psychological and societal challenges the U.S. has faced following the global pandemic. In a country still grappling with division, misinformation, and the long-term effects of collective trauma, The Thing serves as an eerie reflection of how crises can erode trust and bring out both the best and worst in people.


One of the most striking parallels between The Thing and post-COVID America is the psychological impact of isolation. In the film, the crew members are stranded in a frozen wasteland, cut off from the outside world. As the alien begins its infiltration, their isolation turns from a mere inconvenience to a life-threatening nightmare. They cannot leave, they cannot get help, and they are trapped with an invisible enemy.


Similarly, the pandemic forced millions of Americans into a state of prolonged isolation. Lockdowns, quarantine measures, and social distancing led to an increase in loneliness, depression, and anxiety. Much like the characters in The Thing, people became hyper-aware of their surroundings, scrutinizing every cough or symptom in fear that it might signal infection. For many, the world outside their homes became a place of unseen danger—just as the Antarctic base in The Thing became a prison where every crew member was a potential threat.


One of The Thing’s most terrifying aspects is how quickly trust deteriorates among the characters. The alien’s ability to perfectly mimic its victims means that no one can be certain who is still human. Friendships dissolve into suspicion, alliances shift unpredictably, and eventually, each person is left to fend for themselves. This descent into paranoia reflects how trust in institutions, science, and even each other eroded during the pandemic.


In the U.S., the response to COVID-19 was marked by deep political and ideological divisions. People questioned official information, debated the effectiveness of vaccines, and argued over masks. Misinformation spread as rapidly as the virus itself, causing people to view their neighbors, coworkers, and even family members with suspicion. Just as The Thing’s crew members resort to extreme measures—such as the infamous blood test scene—to determine who is infected, people in the real world began engaging in their own “tests” of loyalty, judging each other based on whether they followed or rejected pandemic precautions. The fear of the unknown transformed the U.S. into a landscape of deep mistrust, much like the Antarctic outpost in Carpenter’s film.


As The Thing progresses, survival becomes more important than ethics. MacReady, the film’s protagonist, understands that hesitation means death, leading him to adopt an increasingly ruthless approach to identifying and eliminating the infected. At one point, he even ties up his colleagues and threatens to kill them if they refuse to comply with his test. This “us vs. them” mentality echoes the way survival instincts took precedence over empathy during the pandemic.


In the early days of COVID-19, hospitals faced impossible ethical dilemmas, such as deciding who would receive ventilators when supplies were limited. People hoarded essentials like toilet paper, hand sanitizer, and food, sometimes at the expense of their more vulnerable neighbors. The fear of infection led some to treat the sick not as people in need but as threats to be avoided. The pandemic forced people to make difficult choices, just as The Thing forces its characters to weigh their own survival against their humanity.


One of the most unsettling aspects of The Thing is its ambiguous ending. MacReady and Childs sit in the snow, exhausted and unsure if either of them is still human. They accept that there’s no way to truly know and that the horror they’ve endured may not be over. This sense of lingering dread is all too familiar in a post-pandemic world.


Even as life has returned to “normal,” the effects of COVID-19 persist. People continue to struggle with long-term health complications, economic instability, and mental health issues. The pandemic may have officially ended, but its impact lingers, much like the possibility that The Thing is still alive, waiting. The film’s final moments capture the uneasy reality many Americans feel: that even if the immediate crisis is over, the scars remain, and the future is uncertain.


The Thing is more than just a sci-fi horror movie—it is a chilling exploration of fear, isolation, and human nature under pressure. In a post-COVID-19 America, its themes of paranoia, distrust, and survival resonate on a deeply personal level. The pandemic exposed the fragility of social bonds and demonstrated how quickly fear can consume a society. Just as the crew of Outpost 31 learned that their greatest enemy wasn’t just the alien, but their own inability to trust one another, America has emerged from COVID-19 with deep divisions and unresolved anxieties. The Thing serves as a haunting reminder that sometimes, the real horror isn’t the monster outside—it’s what fear can turn us into.I challenge you to give to give John Carpenter’s The Thing a second look. Grab a blanket. Grab a bottle of Jim Bean if necessary. And above all, turn the lights out and the sound up. Immerse yourself on your big screen and let the storyteller take control. John Carpenter doesn’t disappoint.

Thank you for listening today. As always, watch films deeper, listen closer and search for a deeper meaning than what’s on the surface.

 
 
 

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