The beauty of a good Science Fiction idea is that – in so many ways – it’s timeless.
Now, for the record, I may not be using that word – timelessness – exactly the way you’re expecting because I’m not trying to suggest in any way that the resulting films themselves necessarily transcend their specific moment in history. While that may be inarguably true about some projects, there are others that may not mean as much to audiences today as they did for those of the era in which they were manufactured or intended by storytellers. Indeed, some tales are timeless simply because of their use of technology or the subject matter they breach, and others are ageless because of the social, artistic, or cultural impact they had on folks of the day. Those flicks are owed whatever reverence they earn, and I give them their due, respectively.
Essentially, what I’m talking about here is the boundless potential that a central construct of a good SciFi film – no matter when it’s used – is that it can be applied to any era in human history while, perhaps, swinging open doors to new and exciting reflections of those times. Some laugh off such genre tropes as inconsequential to any tale’s ‘moral of the story,’ and yet the more insightful narrators out there can still squeeze a bit of freshness from something others might immediately dismiss as cliché. Granted, it doesn’t happen all of the time – there’s a reason why stereotypes become stereotypes, after all – but keen eyes should be forever watchful for those instances wherein the introduction of something done before might still have relevance in the modern period. Though these times are a’changin’, that doesn’t mean we throw things out that still function, and that should be true of storytelling as well.
So … at first blush, you may think you’ve seen 2023’s The Becomers before … and I suppose you’d be correct. Body snatching isn’t new – yes, it’s been done before, many times, and will likely be done again – but Zach Clark’s SciFi/Comedy incorporates a sly but sometimes not-so-subtle commentary on who we’ve become as a people, especially over the last few years with the rise of COVID, the loss of identity, and the portability of culture. In the scope of an earnest 86 minutes, he demonstrates that the timelessness of a good narrative device should and might resonate long after the films that put such tricks to good use.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
Now, for the record, I may not be using that word – timelessness – exactly the way you’re expecting because I’m not trying to suggest in any way that the resulting films themselves necessarily transcend their specific moment in history. While that may be inarguably true about some projects, there are others that may not mean as much to audiences today as they did for those of the era in which they were manufactured or intended by storytellers. Indeed, some tales are timeless simply because of their use of technology or the subject matter they breach, and others are ageless because of the social, artistic, or cultural impact they had on folks of the day. Those flicks are owed whatever reverence they earn, and I give them their due, respectively.
Essentially, what I’m talking about here is the boundless potential that a central construct of a good SciFi film – no matter when it’s used – is that it can be applied to any era in human history while, perhaps, swinging open doors to new and exciting reflections of those times. Some laugh off such genre tropes as inconsequential to any tale’s ‘moral of the story,’ and yet the more insightful narrators out there can still squeeze a bit of freshness from something others might immediately dismiss as cliché. Granted, it doesn’t happen all of the time – there’s a reason why stereotypes become stereotypes, after all – but keen eyes should be forever watchful for those instances wherein the introduction of something done before might still have relevance in the modern period. Though these times are a’changin’, that doesn’t mean we throw things out that still function, and that should be true of storytelling as well.
So … at first blush, you may think you’ve seen 2023’s The Becomers before … and I suppose you’d be correct. Body snatching isn’t new – yes, it’s been done before, many times, and will likely be done again – but Zach Clark’s SciFi/Comedy incorporates a sly but sometimes not-so-subtle commentary on who we’ve become as a people, especially over the last few years with the rise of COVID, the loss of identity, and the portability of culture. In the scope of an earnest 86 minutes, he demonstrates that the timelessness of a good narrative device should and might resonate long after the films that put such tricks to good use.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A body-snatching alien comes to Earth, reconnects with their partner, and tries to find their way in modern America.”
For those unaware, a little bit of education is in order to establish the groundwork for my thoughts on The Becomers (2023), an occasionally whimsical re-interpretation of Science Fiction’s ongoing fascination with the idea of alien body-snatching.
The first and arguably most successful use of it was in 1956’s groundbreaking Invasion Of The Body Snatchers. Directed by Don Siegel and based on 1954’s “The Body Snatchers” novel, the film told the story of a somewhat isolated group of survivors who uncover an alien invasion slowly seeping across their small town and growing menacingly toward national proportions. It’s been said that, thematically, many believed the story was intended as an artistic response to the growing threat of McCarthyism – the political persecution of folks foisting what was seen as a decidedly un-American agenda on the United States. The dirty little secret, however, is that no single person involved in the film’s production either in front of the camera or behind it (allegedly not even the book’s author) deliberately inserted that political theme into the yarn. Still, we see in art what we wish, and that resulting indictment of paranoia remains to this day, so much so that it’s often difficult to separate the fact from fiction.
In 1978, director Philip Kaufman gave Invasion what many have deemed an even greater re-imaging when he cast Donald Sutherland, Leonard Nimoy, and Jeff Goldblum in his big city adaptation of basically the same core story. Special effects gave the film an added dimension, evoking a level of modest body horror that the original only hinted at; and, certainly, this incarnation could be said leaned somewhat heavily on the politics of the day. The great American debacles of the Vietnam War and Watergate had audiences wondering just how far big government’s reach had grown to affect the quality of life; and its script debatably suggested that a heavy dose of skepticism should be applied to any calls to action issued by once credible institutions … if not even your next-door neighbor.
1993 saw yet one more embodiment of the Jack Finney novel take shape when celebrated director Abel Ferrera picked up the trope and ran with it in his simply titled Body Snatchers for Warner Bros. Though I’ve read that the film had a relatively short theatrical run, it still managed to achieve some critical praise from those who like this sort of thing. Thematically, however, the assessment is that the script varies a bit too widely from the source material, instead engaging in arguments on feminism, conformity, and collectivism, even going so far as to question the usefulness of militarism in the modern world. Personally, I think it’s also interesting to note that Snatchers hit the consumer marketplace at or around the same time as Fox TV’s juggernaut The X-Files launched into the zeitgeist; while one is still being talked about in some circles even to this day, the flick is, largely, forgotten.
The point to all of this cinema history is not to discount the use of body-snatching as a trope in Science Fiction; rather, it’s to underscore that each repetition found a means to re-apply it for its respective time … and that brings me to (finally, I know) discussing my thoughts of The Becomers.
“A body-snatching alien comes to Earth, reconnects with their partner, and tries to find their way in modern America.”
For those unaware, a little bit of education is in order to establish the groundwork for my thoughts on The Becomers (2023), an occasionally whimsical re-interpretation of Science Fiction’s ongoing fascination with the idea of alien body-snatching.
The first and arguably most successful use of it was in 1956’s groundbreaking Invasion Of The Body Snatchers. Directed by Don Siegel and based on 1954’s “The Body Snatchers” novel, the film told the story of a somewhat isolated group of survivors who uncover an alien invasion slowly seeping across their small town and growing menacingly toward national proportions. It’s been said that, thematically, many believed the story was intended as an artistic response to the growing threat of McCarthyism – the political persecution of folks foisting what was seen as a decidedly un-American agenda on the United States. The dirty little secret, however, is that no single person involved in the film’s production either in front of the camera or behind it (allegedly not even the book’s author) deliberately inserted that political theme into the yarn. Still, we see in art what we wish, and that resulting indictment of paranoia remains to this day, so much so that it’s often difficult to separate the fact from fiction.
In 1978, director Philip Kaufman gave Invasion what many have deemed an even greater re-imaging when he cast Donald Sutherland, Leonard Nimoy, and Jeff Goldblum in his big city adaptation of basically the same core story. Special effects gave the film an added dimension, evoking a level of modest body horror that the original only hinted at; and, certainly, this incarnation could be said leaned somewhat heavily on the politics of the day. The great American debacles of the Vietnam War and Watergate had audiences wondering just how far big government’s reach had grown to affect the quality of life; and its script debatably suggested that a heavy dose of skepticism should be applied to any calls to action issued by once credible institutions … if not even your next-door neighbor.
1993 saw yet one more embodiment of the Jack Finney novel take shape when celebrated director Abel Ferrera picked up the trope and ran with it in his simply titled Body Snatchers for Warner Bros. Though I’ve read that the film had a relatively short theatrical run, it still managed to achieve some critical praise from those who like this sort of thing. Thematically, however, the assessment is that the script varies a bit too widely from the source material, instead engaging in arguments on feminism, conformity, and collectivism, even going so far as to question the usefulness of militarism in the modern world. Personally, I think it’s also interesting to note that Snatchers hit the consumer marketplace at or around the same time as Fox TV’s juggernaut The X-Files launched into the zeitgeist; while one is still being talked about in some circles even to this day, the flick is, largely, forgotten.
The point to all of this cinema history is not to discount the use of body-snatching as a trope in Science Fiction; rather, it’s to underscore that each repetition found a means to re-apply it for its respective time … and that brings me to (finally, I know) discussing my thoughts of The Becomers.
In stark contrast to the versions that came before it, Clark’s fable dispenses with exploring the plight and perspective of we (pitiful) humans struggling against whatever troubles inhabit our days and instead weaves his tapestry from that of the occupiers: two aliens (played by different actors and actresses as the plot unspools) seek refuge on Earth after their civilization collapses (of sorts), and they spend the bulk of their time trying against the odds to find their way back to one another. So unlike those earlier attempts to explore body-snatching and/or body-swapping, this one is centered on being a love story; and it achieves only a measure of charm along the way. True, our two heroes (but are they?) do eventually achieve their sought-after, co-habitational bliss (but do they?), and yet the big finish really only underscores there’s much more to ‘happy ever after’ than we get to witness. Then, the real invasion begins, but that’s an epic for another day.
By switching the central focus from that of the endangered to those prosecuting their penetration of our species, Clark does achieve something that’s vastly more magical than his fish-out-of-water parable: he effectively removes the central paranoia of the victims and transplants it on the shoulders of the aggressors. With each exposure to a potential new human host or even casual human contact, the aliens are forced to reexamine what they think about our species and how they might slip into lockstep without being noticed for their infiltration. They – like us in those previous body-snatching films – just to survive, to retain their individuality, but (dammitall) if our pesky tribe doesn’t make it (dammitall) difficult. Before they know it, these extraterrestrials find themselves wrapped up in the toils and trouble of adapting to the life requirements during COVID lockdowns, adjusting to humdrum suburban life, and (inadvertently) joining a cult and kidnapping a governor.
This is, of course, satire; and, when it works, it’s really damn funny.
The problem therein is that it doesn’t work for considerable stretches of the tale’s connective tissues. Searching takes time, obviously, and those moments just aren’t as convincing as the ones when our galactic soulmates are finally conjoined. Because Clark chose to spin his yarn via an unseen narrator, I found it never as easy as it should’ve been to connect the bits and pieces of who these aliens were, precisely why they came to Earth, and why it seemed so patently easy for them to find one another despite never travelling all that far. A bit more set-up could’ve alleviated this confusion. In fact, it really wasn’t until The Becomers’ midpoint that the whole bite of its satirical potential became patently obvious (the cult’s attempt to videotape their message is the highpoint of the madness here); while that elevates the second half considerably, a bit more upfront could’ve done wonders for the vibe.
Furthermore, The Becomers makes great use of some practical make-up effects in briefly exploring the – ahem – sexuality of its body-snatchers. The truth of their technique is that their species cannot duplicate you or I precisely; apparently their powers of genetic reassembly don’t include to the human sex organs. (What can I say? Some of us don’t understand how they work either.) Puritanical viewers might take issue with – ahem – the alien ‘heavy petting’ as it gets rendered on film, but there’s still a tastefulness to romance as depicted. They’re hot. They’re heavy. They’re exploring as we all do. Yes, what transpires might qualify as body horror to some, but rather than it exploring a loss of identity it’s really only meant to draw comparisons to how these E.T.s’ necking might have curious similarities to our own. Consider it … equally gooey.
As for the talent? Keith Kelly does a great job. Mike Lopez needed a bit more grounding in places. And Molly Plunk? I’m smitten with your awkward appeal.
By switching the central focus from that of the endangered to those prosecuting their penetration of our species, Clark does achieve something that’s vastly more magical than his fish-out-of-water parable: he effectively removes the central paranoia of the victims and transplants it on the shoulders of the aggressors. With each exposure to a potential new human host or even casual human contact, the aliens are forced to reexamine what they think about our species and how they might slip into lockstep without being noticed for their infiltration. They – like us in those previous body-snatching films – just to survive, to retain their individuality, but (dammitall) if our pesky tribe doesn’t make it (dammitall) difficult. Before they know it, these extraterrestrials find themselves wrapped up in the toils and trouble of adapting to the life requirements during COVID lockdowns, adjusting to humdrum suburban life, and (inadvertently) joining a cult and kidnapping a governor.
This is, of course, satire; and, when it works, it’s really damn funny.
The problem therein is that it doesn’t work for considerable stretches of the tale’s connective tissues. Searching takes time, obviously, and those moments just aren’t as convincing as the ones when our galactic soulmates are finally conjoined. Because Clark chose to spin his yarn via an unseen narrator, I found it never as easy as it should’ve been to connect the bits and pieces of who these aliens were, precisely why they came to Earth, and why it seemed so patently easy for them to find one another despite never travelling all that far. A bit more set-up could’ve alleviated this confusion. In fact, it really wasn’t until The Becomers’ midpoint that the whole bite of its satirical potential became patently obvious (the cult’s attempt to videotape their message is the highpoint of the madness here); while that elevates the second half considerably, a bit more upfront could’ve done wonders for the vibe.
Furthermore, The Becomers makes great use of some practical make-up effects in briefly exploring the – ahem – sexuality of its body-snatchers. The truth of their technique is that their species cannot duplicate you or I precisely; apparently their powers of genetic reassembly don’t include to the human sex organs. (What can I say? Some of us don’t understand how they work either.) Puritanical viewers might take issue with – ahem – the alien ‘heavy petting’ as it gets rendered on film, but there’s still a tastefulness to romance as depicted. They’re hot. They’re heavy. They’re exploring as we all do. Yes, what transpires might qualify as body horror to some, but rather than it exploring a loss of identity it’s really only meant to draw comparisons to how these E.T.s’ necking might have curious similarities to our own. Consider it … equally gooey.
As for the talent? Keith Kelly does a great job. Mike Lopez needed a bit more grounding in places. And Molly Plunk? I’m smitten with your awkward appeal.
The Becomers (2023) was produced by Slasher Films. According to the press materials provided to me by Dark Star Pictures, the film is presently played via exclusive theatrical engagements but will be available VOD in late September, 2024. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds were pretty exceptional from start-to-finish: the effects budget was understandably modest – the picture never quite overcomes the texture of being an independent production, and that’s not intended as an insult – but they work fine as intended. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I was provided only streaming access to the flick, there were no special features under consideration.
Recommended.
Look, folks: I’ll never apologize for (A) being a Science Fiction/Fantasy junkie or (B) being an unabashed fan of storytelling that tries to do something different … and, on those fronts, The Becomers (2023) is uneven, delightful, and quirky almost all at the same time. I enjoyed it, even if it could’ve used some tightening here and there. When it really finds itself and the potential of writer/director Clark’s vision, it excels with surprising laughs. The cast seemed to have no trouble buying into the economical nature of presenting something bigger-than-life with the modesty that goes with indie-style filmmaking. This is the kind of feature that should find a respectable cult following – not that there’s anything wrong with that – and it, too, might transcend time and space in the same way body-snatching seems to get reincarnated generationally. Only time will tell …
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Dark Star Pictures provided me with complimentary streaming access to The Becomers (2023) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Recommended.
Look, folks: I’ll never apologize for (A) being a Science Fiction/Fantasy junkie or (B) being an unabashed fan of storytelling that tries to do something different … and, on those fronts, The Becomers (2023) is uneven, delightful, and quirky almost all at the same time. I enjoyed it, even if it could’ve used some tightening here and there. When it really finds itself and the potential of writer/director Clark’s vision, it excels with surprising laughs. The cast seemed to have no trouble buying into the economical nature of presenting something bigger-than-life with the modesty that goes with indie-style filmmaking. This is the kind of feature that should find a respectable cult following – not that there’s anything wrong with that – and it, too, might transcend time and space in the same way body-snatching seems to get reincarnated generationally. Only time will tell …
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Dark Star Pictures provided me with complimentary streaming access to The Becomers (2023) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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