Kile M. Ortigo
Department of Psychology
Emory University

In Alien Resurrection, Ripley’s hybridity catalyzes her unnatural individuation—a unique and significant contribution to the technological myth. Using an analytic framework created from Jung, Rushing, Frentz, and Haraway, I chart Ripley's complex journey towards individuation, beginning with spiritual mentoring, moving through the mythic significance of her dual wounds, including her equally important double captivity, and the final challenge towards a hybrid mode of individuation in the form of her hideous offspring, the Newborn. The film suggests that the next hope for humanity is either its fragmented creations or the embracing of our own hybrid identities.

[1] To be human is to be self-aware, to perceive, to assimilate, and to adapt. When these functions are hindered, when mental and physical development ceases, does humanity become something antiquated? While many social critics suggest that in our current age of technology humanity is experiencing a spiritual crisis without hope, science fiction films play out various possibilities of renewal (utopia) and despair (dystopia). What will the future bring? How can our fears and insecurities about our destinies be utilized as healthy patterns of living? In the search for new myths to re-establish society as a whole, film has become an increasingly important medium by which to spread new optimism and longings while acting out collective suspicions and anxieties. Robert Davies, James Farrell and Steven Matthews argue that film’s visionary art retains the simultaneous attraction and emotional pull of images and the conscious communication of archetypal ideas; that is, “As it turns inward, toward deeper psychic levels, film paradoxically turns back toward objectivity, by assuming image patterns that are collective, or ‘transpersonal.’”[1] If artistic film is important, it is because of the communication of fantasies that, at least in part, are shared and may come true. Although certain films leave impressions that can be disturbing, confusing, or even intrusive, sometimes their true impact, unrealized with one audience, becomes ever clearer as time passes. One such visionary film is Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Alien Resurrection.[2]

[2] After the film’s opening on 26 November 1997, this third addition to the Alien saga garnered a mixture of disappointment and intrigue for many fans and critics alike. Although each subsequent film, being helmed by different directors, offered subtle spins on the Alien universe, Alien Resurrection catapulted the series into the visually obscure future’s future. Negative reactions were bound to occur. Because of Ripley’s death in Alien³,[3] writers relied on cloning to revisit the franchise. Military scientists, who wanted the Alien Queen impregnated into Ripley in the previous film, have used blood samples containing Ripley’s and the alien’s DNA to create clones of both. Gone was the original, real Ripley, and instead an uncanny copy acting as the queen’s surrogate took centre stage. Absent were the redeemable humans mixed in with the greedy villains and ruthless monsters. Once the aliens inevitably escaped, the foremost motivation for the remaining humans was their personal survival, not the good of the human race. Even with the requisite gore escalating, the characters’ external journey to escape an infested space station was far from groundbreaking. What was most interesting, however, was a subtext that has puzzled viewers and critics alike, specifically the evolution of Ripley as a hybrid.

[3] Some viewers felt that the film was just another empty sequel haphazardly churned out to make a quick buck. While most agreed that it was at least a slight improvement over Alien³, many found the horror and action aspects inferior to Alien and Aliens. Roger Ebert goes so far as to say that “Artistically, the film will have no impact at all. It's a nine days’ wonder, a geek show designed to win a weekend or two at the box office and then fade from memory.”[4] Janet Maslin refers to the film’s “ghastly sideshow atmosphere” and “extreme nastiness,” [5] and Peter Stack says the movie “looks great, if gory, but doesn’t have much brains.”[6] A few appreciate the movie for its dark humour, such as Stephen Hunter who insists, “It brings a mordant, crackerjack wit to the world of chest-busting, head-ripping creepazoids from beyond.”[7] Desson Howe even suggests a new marketing slogan: “In space, no one can hear you laugh.”[8]

[4] Still, critics vaguely acknowledge captivating aspects of the new Ripley character. According to Howe, “[Ripley]’s the movie's only hope,”[9] and Stack admits the film “does have some interesting ideas.”[10] Even Ebert lauds Sigourney Weaver for her “splendid” performance.[11] Nevertheless, what makes Ripley so special? Years would pass before cultural critics could begin to tackle the problem of Alien Resurrection, but many theories exist as to the film’s ultimate message. A. Samuel Kimball points out that the heroes in the film are a clone and a cyborg, underscoring “how humans have already been overtaken by the nonhuman” and representing a new future of humanity in which beings are not conceived but replicated.[12] Aimee Carrillo Rowe and Samantha Lindsey, in contrast, argue that Ripley’s hybridity threatens the social order because she may favour her alien side over her human side; thus, when Ripley saves Earth, she abandons her alien femininity in order to restore her humanity as white woman.[13]

[5] Furthermore, Jackie Stacey sees Ripley as embodying deviant relations with biology, technology, and sexuality resulting from too much sameness. Because Ripley contains the abject (alien physiology/materiality) within herself and still survives, Alien Resurrection refuses to expel the abject, unlike the previous three films.[14] If the abject cannot be destroyed, then it must be accepted—a step forward for body horror films. These views, albeit compelling, may not capture all essential aspects of Ripley’s characterization, that is, her striving for balance and salvation in spite of her unholy origins. In this paper, I will show how the new Ripley redefines Jungian/mythic individuation by reconciling her profane, technological presence with the sacred process of self-discovery.

Unions and Reunions—Theoretical Underpinnings

[6] As others have noted,[15] Ripley is a metaphorical cyborg because of the necessity of technology in bringing her into existence. Cyborgs and hybrid species, however, break down barriers between human and nonhuman; they do not choose between them, as other theorists imply.[16] Donna Haraway argues that where others see cyborgs fighting a “border war” between organism and machine, we should take “pleasure in the confusion of boundaries” and take “responsibility in their construction.”[17] Haraway elucidates how cyborgs break down dualisms of self/other, human/animal, mind/body, male/female, and whole/part.[18] Taking a cue from Haraway, instead of focusing on Ripley as the source of a “border war,” I address Ripley as an evolving species, part human, part alien.

[7] If Ripley’s identity involves breaking down boundaries, then she must somehow integrate her own internal dualism. As argued by Janice Hocker Rushing, one important element in that dualism is that Ripley and the Alien Queen in Aliens represent different aspects of the Mother/Goddess archetype.[19] According to C.G. Jung, the Mother archetype can be either the loving mother (nurturing, wise, and spiritual) or the terrible mother (devouring, seducing, dark, and inescapable).[20] With Aliens, Rushing shows that Ripley and the Alien Queen represent the Good Mother and the Bad Mother respectively, but the problem is that the film does nothing to heal this maternal dualism. For Rushing, Aliens perpetuates the divide between the two mothers by pitting Ripley against the Alien Queen, a confrontation that only furthers patriarchal domination.[21] Their reintegration would mean accepting both as part of us all—something the previous Alien films have denied.

[8] Although Haraway focuses on biology and technology and Rushing concentrates on myth, both speak of unions and reunions. Alien Resurrection exemplifies the unusual melding of biology, technology, and myth while showing the development of Ripley’s uncanny psyche. Psychologically, Ripley accepts and integrates all aspects of herself, and this difficult process of individuation makes her a distinctive character in science fiction film. Because most critics concentrate on her physiological hybridity, they miss the radical impact of Ripley’s psychological transformation. Additionally, mythic approaches to film criticism mostly fail to address the individuation of nonhumans; for example, Rushing and Tom Frentz hint at nonhuman individuation, [22] but the idea is largely underdeveloped. In Alien Resurrection, however, nonhuman and human share a blood bond, and unlike most films where the nonhumans die (e.g., Blade Runner),[23] Ripley survives to acknowledge this blood mix. I argue that Alien Resurrection is about Ripley’s individuation. Specifically, through her hybridity, Ripley #8 is forced to come to terms with the alien shadow within her and the consequences of this unnatural individuation in the form of the destructive Newborn. Whereas the traditional individuation is well-known, this new, fleshed-out individuation is a unique contribution from this film. Its primary significance lies in the juxtaposition of the spiritual and sometimes religious experience of human individuation with its coerced, unnatural and not-quite-sacred futuristic counterpart. Alien Resurrection attempts to address the concern that if God is dead, where do we seek our salvation?

[9] Although discussing the psychological consequences of forced hybridity is a noteworthy endeavour, only two theorists have partially identified Ripley’s psychological significance as a hybrid. Catherine Constable, for one, focuses on the dynamic identities in the Alien series and how becoming the monster’s mother changes previous identity models (placing mother as subject). She ends her analysis by suggesting that Ripley’s outcome is uncertain, full of positive and dreadful possibilities.[24] Alternatively, Caroline Joan Picart sees Ripley as another kind of hybrid, blurring distinctions among three shadows, or undesirable aspects of us or our culture (inferior, technological, and female monster).[25] She posits, “Monsters are the liminal point of not only what we are not, but also what we are; they reveal and conceal not only what we fear but also what we hope for; and they allow us imaginatively to excavate the depths of not only who we could be in relation to nature and divinity, but also who we are in relation to the daemons that lurk within.”[26] For both Constable and Picart, Alien Resurrection is a psychologically important film because it transforms traditional psychodynamic theories; nevertheless, a productive analysis of Ripley’s mythic and religious journey is never elaborated.

[10] To understand Ripley’s individuation, I must discuss different aspects of the Ripley character, as they relate to her journey, and the two distinct relationships she has with technology and with aliens. Ripley’s relationship with technology allows her both to use and be used by it. Ripley is anti-technocrat, cyborg and clone—a displaced trinity of the unholy endeavours of humankind. Not only is she inevitably tied to technology, she now possesses an incredible dualism between her human and alien parts. I illustrate the evolution of this duality by tracing her relationship to the alien creature through each film. Then, using a modified depth psychology framework, I track Ripley’s psychological journey. At first, she is completely individualistic as her ego dominates her actions. Then, slowly she transforms from an egotistical outcast to the saviour of humankind. Ripley’s dual wounds and double captivity assist her in this transformation, but in the end, her foil character—the Newborn—aids her final push towards individuation. Finally, I elaborate implications of this new form of individuation.

Ripley and Technology

[11] Ripley’s relationship to technology is complex and full of contradictions. Though using technology to survive, she despises the company’s use of technology for power. In Alien Resurrection, Ripley embodies three aspects of technology—her history as anti-technocrat, her status as metaphorical cyborg, and her emergence as clone, yet her “spiral dance”[27] with technology surrenders to a oneness by the fourth film. After all, Alien Resurrection’s preoccupation with melding relationships does not begin with the alien-human hybrid but with the paradoxical relationship between humanity and technology.

[12] The first signs of this merger appear in the opening credits. We hear cold, mystifying music and moans as grotesque images pass across the screen—images of skin, eyes and silver teeth, a pastiche of human body parts and disfigured aliens. These images may disgust and horrify, but they also announce the postmodern condition at its worst—the disintegration of the human spirit by the literal reintegration of human and alien shadow through technology, with the creator of this future being none other than humanity itself. Scientists have salvaged Ripley’s alien-tainted DNA from Fiorina 161 and cloned the original Ripley with the queen gestating inside her chest, but their sole interest lies in the Alien Queen; Ripley is just a “meat by-product.”[28] After surgically removing the chestburster, only scientific curiosity keeps Ripley from being immediately discarded.

[13] Because of the cloning process, Ripley #8 retains most of the original Ripley’s history. That Ripley, we may recall, was the ultimate anti-technocratic heroine. The first three Alien films highlight Ripley’s antagonism towards the Company, Weyland-Yutani. In Alien, she is introduced to the evils of technology by her dealings with Mother, the onboard computer, and Ash, the implanted android operant. Both Mother and Ash act on the Company directive to preserve the alien lifeform even at the crew’s expense while Ripley uses technology to gather information, decode warning signals, protect herself, and self-destruct the Nostromo.[29] In Aliens, nothing much changes. Ripley is convinced that 57 years of growth have given the Company a better grip on the importance of human life. She is tricked into assisting Weyland-Yutani representative, Burke, to capture the alien for the bioweapons division, misjudges Bishop because he is synthetic, and uses a mechanical loader to destroy the Alien Queen.[30] Again, Ripley uses and is used by technology, the only difference being that her prowess and resourcefulness with weapons is enhanced thanks to Colonel Hicks. Finally, in Alien³, Ripley sacrifices herself in a vat of molten metal to destroy the sole surviving alien creature inside her, thus dashing the Company’s hope ever to harness its malicious power.[31]

[14] In Alien Resurrection, Ripley #8 remembers her hopes for humanity but now begins to recognize the powerful shadow of her own technological presence. She finally sees how technological power erodes the human spirit and realizes that the alien is no more evil than the human technology trying to control it. When confronted by Wren, the lead scientist involved with her cloning, Ripley’s cynicism is evident:

Wren: Things have changed a great deal since your time.

Ripley: Oh, I doubt that.

Wren: We’re not flying blind here you know. It’s the United Systems Military, not some greedy corporation.

Ripley: Oh, well, it won’t make any difference. You’re still going to die.[32]

She is right—it will not make any difference. The scientists still do not see the shadow in their work and the consequences of their unethical experiments.

[15] Ripley’s ambivalence towards technology is complicated in Alien Resurrection because she becomes a metaphorical cyborg. Wren and others consistently refer to her as “#8” and “it,”[33] dehumanizing the flesh that was an undesired by-product of cloning, and while Wren correctly identifies Ripley as other and created, he fails to recognize her partial, organic humanity. Apparently, this Ripley is the eighth attempt at bringing the Alien Queen back; the previous seven attempts, having failed, resulted in horribly disfigured creatures, most of which died immediately. The significance of the number eight is of particular importance to Alien Resurrection. Why choose 8 instead of 7, the perfect/complete number in scripture? Ripley #8 is not the ideal perfection the scientists sought. Instead, she may be one above perfection, no longer the pure human she once was, no longer plagued by her human spirit; she is closer to the modernist’s ideal of pure logic and power. Her existence is resultant from the seven previous sins of the scientists; therefore, Ripley exists because of the hubris of playing God, the eighth deadly sin.

[16] In addition, 8 is only a rotation away from the infinity symbol— ∞. Ripley’s genes and character seem to be immortal; her partnership with technology keeps her organic parts from aging, and this immortality realizes the human dream of perfection. Conversely, she could be one off from perfection, an imperfect consequence of technology’s interference with nature. Ripley #8 is both perfect and imperfect because her rebirth is the result of technology raping her not once but twice. Technology’s rape of nature allows her (re-)emergence into the world, and its rape of Ripley causes the formation of an unnatural being whose future is untold. Like Frankenstein’s monster, Ripley has inconceivable potential, but her reality remains ambiguous. Her entrance to the world is harsh and cruel, exemplified by her being immediately penetrated by cold, medical tools in her initial surgery. After her primary duty as host to the Alien Queen, she is discarded by the scientists and wrapped in thin, papery material, representing the placenta. Whereas infants are normally introduced into the world with help from the mother’s womb, Ripley #8 is left alone to tear herself out of the womb, only to be born into a cold, metallic prison, the epitome of all harsh environments but seemingly the only appropriate environment for cyborgs.

[17] Lastly, Ripley is not only a cyborg but also a transgenic clone. The two scientists in charge of her resurrection soon learn that Ripley has quickly developed an adult mind. She accesses the original Ripley’s memories and learns at an incredible rate, but as human, Ripley has a weakness. Wren explains that #8 has “connective difficulties” from “a biochemical imbalance causing emotional autism.”[34] Her intelligence is superior, yet her social skills are impoverished. Indeed, the first time Ripley sees Wren after surgery, she grabs him by the throat, and in the original script, asks, “Why?”[35] She is promptly subdued, but her question lingers. Why is she here—again? Unlike before, though, her current status as clone goes beyond the technological meaning and into the realm of hybridity.

Ripley and Alien

[18] One of the most significant themes in Alien Resurrection is the alien/human dualism in Ripley #8. The use of colour in all four films offers an intriguing means of tracing the relationship between human and alien. In Alien, black and white are presented as the primary palette. Barbara Creed contrasts the white, clean womb-like chamber of the Nostromo with the “dark, dank, and mysterious” interior of the derelict ship,[36] and Constable adds that the black, alien interior symbolizes death and decay as well.[37] The creature is mostly black while the human machinery is white or grey, so black symbolizes the demonic aspect of the alien who stays in the shadows, whereas white ostensibly reflects the purity of human spirit. Nevertheless, as the film develops, objects get progressively more grimy and grey, signifying that the alien’s intrusion into the world of the human corrupts the colour scheme. The white walls are splattered with blood, and Ripley’s face becomes covered in grease. Objects are no longer black and white, interpretable both literally and metaphorically.

[19] This trend continues in Aliens. Ripley awakes to the real world but is haunted by horrendous nightmares; the alien creature has marked her physical person and mind. Her uniform even consists of a “gray vest top and pants.”[38] The colony settlement on LV-426 is all grey and filthy whereas the alien creatures remain black. In addition, when the Alien Queen first meets Ripley, the colours fluctuate between the grey mother and the dark mother. A maternal connection between Ripley and the queen already seems to exist, yet their first encounter only results in death with the abject, dark mother jettisoned from the sterilized, white interior of the Sulaco.

[20] The evolution of colour culminates in Alien³, which is almost exclusively a dark, brown film. Because Ripley is stuck with double-Y chromosome criminals exiled to a metal refinery, the brown literally originates from rust and natural dirt, but with the addition of brown, the first change in the alien creature occurs (i.e., the alien is now brown instead of black). This colour change could indicate that corrupt humans, although converts to an apocalyptic Christianity, are just as vile as the alien is, or it could mean a sudden change in the relationship between Ripley and the alien. Soon Ripley discovers she has recently become host to the next Alien Queen, the only problem being the surrogate dies during birth. When Ripley decides to jump into the molten metal, she expects to terminate their enduring relationship; however, fire only permanently fuses the two mothers together. Brown becomes the unifying color for Ripley and alien.

[21] Brown evolves further in Alien Resurrection to colour both corruption and nature. Even though browns are very common in the natural world, Alien Resurrection perverts hues of nature by incorporating them into the unnaturally engineered alien creatures and Ripley. However unnatural the origins, this new brown may actually become the new nature. The old natures of humans and aliens are replaced by their new hybrid, and for the first time, the aliens, along with Ripley, are primarily brown. The new cloned Ripley wears a brown, leathery jacket that obviously expresses her connection to the aliens, with even the jacket shoulders mimicking the shape of the alien’s own shoulders. Coincidently, a strange fashion sense is not the only thing inherited from the cloning process.

[22] Undoubtedly, Ripley #8 is no mere human clone, nor is she a simple “meat by-product,” given that she has gained unprecedented enhancements. For one thing, her much larger stature is unmistakable when she is shown next to other characters. Secondly, her memories and strength come from alien genes. And finally, acidic blood now courses through her veins. With all these physical changes, one must ask how much alien DNA has affected her mind? Sigourney Weaver notes an “unease about how much she is of which and where her loyalties lie.”[39] To understand this unique situation, I turn to the depth psychology of Jung, because the real repercussions of technology’s rape of nature deal with this alien-human psychological mixture. Within this new context, Ripley is forced to discover her true self within her shadow or perhaps redefine herself as a new hybrid of her old shadow and self. The alien shadow is now genetically part of her, and for better or worse, distinctions between human and alien are disappearing.

Hybrid Psychology

[23] Ripley #8’s psychology is of a different breed than that of traditional depth psychology; nevertheless, her being part alien only adds complexity to her human psyche. Ripley’s psyche is fragmented because her human and alien parts do not naturally coexist, so in order to achieve stability, she must somehow integrate her human and alien sides, whatever that may mean psychologically. This acceptance and reintegration is an essential part of Jung’s notion of becoming psychologically whole. Jung speaks of a process through which one can become connected with an inner most structure, the Self, allowing it to direct one’s life. Jung calls this progression individuation—“the process by which a person becomes a psychologically ‘in-dividual,’ that is, a separate, indivisible unity or ‘whole.’”[40] Individuation is arduous because it demands replacing the ego with the Self, accepting one’s shadow, and healing inner contradictions. One outward sign of individuation is the acknowledgement of the interconnection with others; thus, “the process of individuation must lead to more intense and broader collective relationships and not isolation.”[41]

[24] The progression of individuation in Alien Resurrection, however, is more complex than Jung originally expounded. Ripley is not simply coming to grips with her human Self but with a hybrid centre; she must accept and understand being part alien. Critics argue that either the human or alien side must win the battle for control, yet this battle would only be between separate human and alien egos with the “losing” side becoming a part of the repressed/projected shadow. The purpose is subordinating the ego to the Self, not choosing one ego over another. In normal individuation, though, acceptance of the shadow is not as radically literal as it is for Ripley #8. In general, Jung’s shadow exists in two aspects: the overdeveloped shadow, the extension of our egos, and the inferior shadow, the negation of our egos,[42] but Ripley’s new shadow is itself a complex hybrid; the archaic violence in human nature symbolized by the alien creature is no longer metaphorical, and the scientists’ ego drive for power finally reaches fruition in Ripley. Moreover, because of her fractured identity (being an amalgamation of human and alien), she must find or construct a new Self by healing the contradictions between the alien-human consciousness and unconsciousness.

Ripley’s Journey

[25] Psychically integrating Ripley’s alien and human parts is not easy, and the unnatural cloning process does not immediately aid her individuation. Initially, Ripley is more fragmented than any “human.” The shock of being resurrected coupled with her hybrid nature isolates her; her psyche may yearn for individuation, but scientists want only to extract the Alien Queen and discard the human leftovers. A vital tension grows between Ripley’s need to become whole and the scientists’ need to break her apart, and at first, this situation puts her ego in charge, making survival her top priority, no matter who suffers. For example, Ripley has no qualms about killing other aliens, even though she still is very aware of the alien inside. Call is disgusted:

Call: I can’t believe you did that.

Ripley: Did what?

Call: Kill one of them. It’s like killing your own kind.

Ripley: It was in my way.[43]

Ripley’s credo, “to hell with everyone else,” lacks the recognition of the interconnection between her and others, and without such recognition, individuation is unattainable. According to Rushing and Frentz, Ripley requires three things on her path to individuation: (1) a spiritual mentor, (2) a wound to open her up to the spirit, and (3) captivity to bring her to the depths of her psyche.[44] Because she is a hybrid, however, she must experience both the wound and the captivity twice with the help of a hybrid mentor to develop fully.

Ripley’s Mentor

[26] Being the character that most influences Ripley’s individuation, Call is Ripley’s primary mentor. Whereas Stacey and others suggest that the relationship between Call and Ripley is primarily homosexual, one of sameness,[45] Call plays a much more pivotal role in the film. Rushing and Frentz assert that the hero needs a tutelary figure, usually an elder, in order to understand his or her place in the world and to be initiated properly; consequently, individuation commonly requires a spiritual mentor (e.g., Yoda for Luke Skywalker, Morpheus for Neo, Kyle Reese for Sarah Connor).[46] Although a synthetic female of unknown age, Call seems to care genuinely about humanity’s future; in fact, when we first see her, she stands up for a paraplegic crewmember after another character throws a dagger into his crippled leg. We eventually learn her purpose is to assassinate the Ripley clone before the scientists extract the Alien Queen. However, she works for no one but herself; she is responding to a higher “call.” The scene where Ripley first meets Call is very telling of their future relationship:

Call: Look, I can make it all stop, the pain, this nightmare. That’s all I can offer you.

Ripley: What makes you think I would let you do that?

Call: Who are you?

Ripley: Ripley, Ellen, Lieutenant 1^st class, number 36706.

Call: Ellen Ripley died two hundred years ago. You’re not her.

Ripley: I’m not her. Who am I?[47]

Initially, Call thinks the only solution she can offer is death, but realizing that sacrificing herself is not the answer, Ripley refuses. After all, she died once trying to wipe the species out and that did little to further her cause. Call asks a central question to Ripley’s journey: Who is she? Confused, Ripley cannot respond. When she tells Ripley #8, “You’re not her,” Call acts as a catalyst for Ripley’s search for individuation, and importantly, Ripley for the first time asks about her identity. At this point, Call becomes Ripley’s spiritual guide in order to help her find the answers.

[27] Despite uncertain beginnings, Call and Ripley develop a mentoring relationship. Initially, some distrust exists over Call being an Auton, a second-generation synthetic. In previous films, Ripley’s relationships with androids have always been shaky at best, but even Ash’s directive was not originally to kill her. Knowing something went wrong with the cloning process, Call does not trust Ripley, so after the aliens escape, Call tells the survivors “[Ripley] was part of [Wren’s] experiment and she will turn on us in a second. We have to leave her. We can’t trust her.”[48] Regardless of mutual misgivings, Ripley needs Call; without her, Ripley’s individuation process may have never begun. Under Call’s guidance, Ripley’s alien side learns to care for humanity; for example, when the survivors meet Purvis, a member of the infected cargo brought by the Betty, Ripley wants to leave him, but Call refuses and Ripley eventually concedes. Later on when Call’s identity as an Auton is revealed, Ripley says, “I should have known. No human being is that humane.”[49] Mythically, Ripley’s alliance with Call further exalts the once profane (i.e., the technological and the genetically engineered) to a position of the once-sacred humans.

[28] Interestingly, throughout film, psychological journeys never take place with a human mentoring a nonhuman, and this detail could further signify that humans are becoming increasingly obsolete in the technological myth. In addition, the film further evolves its emphasis on altering traditional boundaries by allowing Ripley and Call to mentor each other mutually. The relationship is not unidirectional because Call is younger and less experienced. A hybrid-synthetic symbiosis develops that blurs the distinctions between interpersonal roles; hence, this unique bonding supports my view that Alien Resurrection presents an alternative form of individuation.

Ripley’s Wounds

[29] In order for her to be open to Call’s spiritual guidance, Ripley’s mind and body experience wounds that announce her vulnerability. Robert Bly points out that male heroes generally receive wounds in their legs or upper thighs, which are resistant to healing but eventually aid in their initiation.[50] With this film, in contrast, the hero is biologically female. Because Ripley is a cyborg and a fighter, both primarily masculine characteristics, the wound feminizes Ripley, opening her up to the Other. Therefore, although female, Ripley sustains wounds as well, one physical and one emotional, that do not heal, yet help her individuate. The first wound is the scar from her forced caesarean section. Because the surgery is precise and careful, the wound has healed physically but not psychologically. Even though Ripley’s physiology is substantially enhanced, the elongated mark on her chest serves as a reminder of her reason for being and how the scientists can and have already violated her. Combined with the tattooed 8 on her arm, this physical wound is vital because it allows emotion and spirit to permeate her entire being, exemplified when Ripley encounters her other selves.

[30] The emotional wound envelopes one of the most memorable scenes from Alien Resurrection and involves a mass of grotesque images as Ripley meets her genetic sisters, clones 1 through 7, failed efforts to separate human and alien DNA. On their way to the Betty, Ripley, Call, and the others pass by a door marked “1-7.” Seeing her own tattooed 8, Ripley decides she must discover what happened to the first seven attempts to resurrect her, but to her horror, she encounters six clones floating in glass containers filled with viscous preservative, hinting at the scientist’s obsessive need to immortalize their past sins. The first appears to be a foetus with indistinguishable alien and human parts while the others progress subsequently from foetus to child to adolescent and finally to clone seven, a conscious, disfigured Ripley with deformed alien appendages. All this creature can utter is “Kill me.”[51] With tear-soaked eyes, Ripley takes the flamethrower offered by Call and mercifully destroys all remnants of her former selves. Ripley previously displays the signs of “emotional autism,” but here her emotional floodgate is released. The original physical wound allows her to be vulnerable emotionally, and she now mourns a dual loss, human and alien. In this poignant moment, Ripley empathizes with her evolving hybridity.

[31] One aspect of this scene, not often mentioned, is that Call hands Ripley the flamethrower. As Ripley’s mentor, Call has a deliberate and significant purpose. Rushing and Frentz argue that when women give men weapons, men also receive special insight into the hunt, which becomes sanctified.[52] In this same manner, Call hands to Ripley a means to right the wrongs done to her, so here hunter clearly identifies with prey, as the original Indian hunter myth indicates. Ripley does not kill the clones for egotistical reasons; instead, she brings death for reasons of mercy and caring because she recognizes their connection and does not deny them honour. After destroying the clones, Ripley comes face to face with the progenitor of this monstrous work, Wren. Seemingly, her intent is to kill him, but when Call urges Ripley not to do it, Ripley simply replies, “Don’t do what?” and walks away.[53] As Call’s role as spiritual mentor solidifies, Ripley begins to understand. With a quick punch, the always-just Call communicates to Wren her disgust, yet the slight retribution is inadequate for his crimes; thus, the small act of violence becomes a quite ironic display of forgiveness.

Ripley’s Captivity

[32] Rushing and Frentz argue that psychological captivity is a “descent into enslavement” and the unconscious, and as such, a further step toward individuation.[54] In the case of the heroine, they note “she must experience oneness with the overdeveloped, as well as the inferior, shadow if she is to stand up to it with a sufficient supply of resolve.”[55] In one sense, Ripley is held captive, a slave of her human creators. The scientists feel a compulsion to study Ripley, for she represents the ancient, elusive Mother in human form—something the scientists are trying to destroy forever. Through her enslavement, she experiences humanity’s overdeveloped shadow, the egoic progress towards technological perfection to control the natural world. Although realizing the evils of an ego out of control, she learns that it is very powerful on its own and perhaps that is why she starts her journey with such an egotistical philosophy; therefore, contact only with the overdeveloped shadow leaves Ripley #8 unbalanced.

[33] Towards the end of the movie, though, Ripley is taken captive by the aliens almost willingly, thus intensifying her connection to the inferior shadow. The scene begins with the survivors running down a corridor towards the Auriga’s launch bay. When Ripley abruptly stops, she tells Call she senses that the Alien Queen is near and in pain. With Call unsure, Ripley insists she must see her, because the Queen is Ripley’s child, sister and fellow hybrid, sharing the same mix, albeit in different proportions, of genetic material. Suddenly, an alien emerges from a hole in the paneling, grabs Ripley from below, and drags her down into a horrible array of alien parts. This pastiche is visibly reminiscent of the opening title sequence containing distorted human parts. In fact, the first capture, by humans, is preceded by the human body part display, and the second capture, by aliens, follows the respective alien fragmentation. Many critiques interpret the alien carrying Ripley as symbolic sexual intercourse (e.g., Constable[56]); however, by comparing both sequences and their contexts, the message here is that ego-driven technology has profaned aliens just as it has humans.

[34] This encounter is not the first time Ripley has descended to meet the alien mother. Rushing draws attention to their first confrontation in Aliens on “Sublevel 2,” symbolic of the unconscious, arguing Ripley’s insolent descent perpetuated the split between “Good Mother” and “Terrible Mother.”[57] Contending this descent must be one of reverence, Rushing uses the myth of Inanna and Ereshkigal to discuss the consequences of such insolence. In the Sumerian myth, Inanna, Queen of Heaven, enters the underworld to pay her rites to her sister Ereshkigal, the Queen of the Underworld, but when Inanna fails to pay proper respects to the Queen, she is transformed into “a corpse, a piece of rotting meat.”[58] Ripley risks the same outcome, yet in Aliens, she overpowers the other mother by strapping on a mechanical loader to aid in her enemy’s destruction. Now another aspect of Ripley’s personage is about to be explored, so she is taken down to the depths of her unconscious to meet yet again the Terrible Mother. Originally, her descent resulted from a single-minded attempt to rescue Newt, a young girl and sole survivor of the LV-246 colony, but this time, she willingly descends in an attempt to ease the Terrible Mother’s pain; lines of loyalty are blurred. This new captivity alters the divided relationship of the mothers because the relationship now contains elements of parent-child and twin-counterpart. It appears as if Rushing’s hopes for a reverent descent may come to pass. Despite this optimistic encounter, an unexpected figure is about to emerge from the myth, and the inferior shadow is soon to become much more dangerous.

Encounter with the Newborn

[35] When Ripley is dragged down to the unconscious layer of the Queen, she meets a cocooned Gediman, a narcissistic scientist representative of the overdeveloped shadow. Here the roles are reversed where the once captive alien has taken the upper hand over the scientist. The powers of the inferior shadow (i.e., femininity) and the overdeveloped shadow (i.e., masculine technology) merge to defeat their oppressors. The inferior shadow seeks vengeance for its repression whereas the overdeveloped shadow seeks retribution for being denied a part of the self. The aliens leave Ripley untied as if wanting her to see freely the miracle she has given them, or perhaps she is left untied to offer help. At first, Ripley is unaware of what is happening, but then things become explained in an all-too-deranged soliloquy:

Gediman: At first, everything was normal; the Queen laid her eggs, but then she started to change. She added a second cycle cell, so … This time there is no host. There are no eggs. There is only her womb and the creature inside. That is Ripley’s gift to her—a human reproductive system. She is giving birth for you, Ripley! And now she is perfect.[59]

Soon Ripley sees for herself this most surprising consequence of the alien-human DNA mix. On her back and apparently pregnant, the Alien Queen screeches in pain as her body prepares to deliver something unprecedented. Unlike human mothers giving birth, the Queen seems not to be actively participating; instead, the monster tears its way out of the womb, resembling the typical act of the chestburster ripping through the host. Then finally it is over, and an uncanny representation of alien-human/inferior-overdeveloped shadow hybridization emerges from the pits of the hellish unconscious—the Newborn.

[36] The Newborn is in many ways the opposite end of Ripley. Whereas Ripley is mostly human with alien enhancements, the male Newborn is mostly alien with some human characteristics; nevertheless, the alien’s unyielding obeisance to the queen is not carried over in the genetic crossing. As soon as the Newborn is birthed and while still partially in the womb, it immediately recognizes the vagina dentata, “the ferocious mouth” of the “toothed” vagina.[60] The infant takes one look at the mother monster and decides her strength is too great; thus, it promptly shatters her head before she becomes too threatening. The destruction of the Alien Queen’s face, its “privileged site of individuation,”[61] is highly symbolic of the Newborn’s opposition to individuation in all of its forms, and even the scientist recognizes the horror in this first act. Underestimating her strength, the Newborn accepts Ripley as the new, weaker mother, but the pleasantries are short-lived when the Newborn notices the scientist and repeats its first killing by consuming his head. Very similar to how Ripley’s lines of loyalty are originally blurred, so are the Newborn’s. Here, however, the Newborn makes its choice and kills humans and aliens indiscriminately.

[37] According to Constable, the Newborn combines “the deadly force of the alien” with “human infantile sadism.”[62] Undoubtedly, the Newborn is the definitive, threatening personification of the id, yet there is a deeper meaning mythically. Representing a new character in the Inanna myth, the Newborn is the terrible mother Ereshkigal’s bane; therefore, it destroys any chance of reunion between the split mothers. In this ancient myth, the Newborn becomes a surprisingly new threat, an overpowering character with a relentless oedipal lust for its chosen mother.

[38] Escaping the Newborn, Ripley arrives at the Betty just in time. Joined by three others, Ripley and Call prepare to escape the Auriga, but the bay doors must be closed before departure. Selflessly, Call volunteers and comes face-to-face with Ripley’s baby. Apparently displaying great intelligence, the Newborn closes the bay doors for the Betty to disengage. Enjoying its new toy, the Newborn seems enthralled by the synthetic and penetrates Call’s gaping wound in similar fashion as Ripley earlier in the film. Ripley, realizing something is wrong, senses the Newborn onboard and travels down to the cargo hold. When Ripley arrives, the Newborn is playfully dangling Call by the throat; even so, Ripley sways the Newborn’s interest with a single command. The human mother-figure and alien child embrace briefly, although Ripley recognizes the choice she must make. From a stigma-type wound, Ripley’s acidic blood creates a hole in a tiny window of the hull, and the resulting vacuum pressure slams the Newborn against the wall and slowly unwinds viscera outward into space. Ripley, in tears, an emotional display lacking in her previously killings of alien creatures, can only utter to the Newborn, “I’m sorry.”[63]

Conclusion

[39] Ripley altruistically commits infanticide, knowing the Newborn will not hurt her, but also realizing it will kill everything else in sight. The Newborn is the ultimate destructive force, and it represents the quintessential malady of postmodernism, the final step in the extensions breaking free. It is a hapless melding of unnatural parts thrown together by humanity’s fragmented ego; hence, the Newborn and Ripley are separate ends of the same condition. Paralleling the entire Alien saga’s transforming inside into outside,[64] the Newborn and Ripley are external manifestations of internal psychical conflicts and resolutions. Ripley, therefore, sacrifices a part of herself (i.e., the ego). They both are pastiche, but where the Newborn fails to control the Other, Ripley learns to accept the shadow.

[40] The sacrificing of the Newborn does not ignore the dark side but rather accepts its influence and by doing so pulls the Self and the fragmented ego together. The Newborn is a separate entity/ego with too much individual power when it should only be another part of the complete Self, not a disconnected conqueror of everything else. Its overpowering influence had to be destroyed because if it lived, the Newborn would obliterate any chance of anyone’s individuation. But, when the Newborn was aborted, did the hybrid shadow disappear entirely? Not at all, Ripley’s emotional response indicates recognition of connection. Ripley has effectively placed the ego in its rightful realm of servant to the Self; nonetheless, the presence of the Newborn is still troubling. On one level, Alien Resurrection supports Haraway’s position that cyborgs (and hybrids) offer an optimistic yet unstable possibility to relinquish the separation between dialectical dualities. On the other hand, the film warns of the consequences of such unnatural and profane forms of individuation. The religious significance of the film lies in its subverting of a secularized spiritual endeavour (i.e., humanistic individuation) that once itself subverted formal, organized religions—an ironic reversal. Hybridity is shown as a dangerous and uncertain, albeit effective, alternative to human individuation. When jacked into a computer port hidden within a Bible, Call echoes Nietzsche, “Father is dead,”[65] further signifying the end of traditional religion and possibly sacred spiritual practices. While it is not the first choice, this individuation may become the only option in confronting the future’s spiritual degradation.

[41] As the Auriga crashes into earth and the Betty glides through the atmosphere, Ripley and Call look out over the clouds, down on the planet:

Ripley: Well, you did it. You saved earth.

Call: You sound disappointed…It’s beautiful.

Ripley: Yeah.

Call: I didn’t expect it to be. What happens now?

Ripley: I don’t know…I’m a stranger here myself.[66]

They have indeed come far. Recognizing her vital role as spiritual mentor, Ripley congratulates Call, not herself, on saving earth. With the ego clearly having been forced from its throne, Ripley is becoming whole by finally accepting her human side, her alien side, and the shadows of both. In the end, she chooses to save humanity even though humanity refuses to save itself. Where to go from here? When Ripley says she is a stranger, she acknowledges both that she has never been to earth and that she is unfamiliar with individuation. This is foreign and anxiety-provoking territory for her and for us as an audience, but even as the future is untold, there may be hope. Ripley and Call can continue their journey, communicate their newfound wisdom, and start a new era by mentoring humans. Perhaps humanity will learn to accept its own shadow and move past its egotistical traditions. Regardless of this optimistic outlook, many clues that humanity has already surpassed its peak exist. Through characters’ references to earth (e.g., “what a shit hole”[67]), it may be more likely that the new nature of hybridity will succeed the old; that is, humanity has become obsolete, and our creations must ensure the continuation of “life.” This likely reality reveals an uncomfortable and distressing existence for the minority of individuated characters.

[42] Outside of the film, the audience is shown a unique approach to psychological development—the embracing of our own hybridity. In reality, each individual is a complex melding of numerous factors (biological, environmental; internal, external) with changing identities in the forms of social roles and personal history. With their position as audience, individuals may identify with the hero hybrid of Alien Resurrection and therefore learn to recognize themselves as hybrids in their own right. Nevertheless, if critical response is any indication, the film’s importance may never be fully realized—the material ironically too alien to accept. As has been shown in this essay, individuation in any form leads to a strong realization of social interconnection and humanitarian compassion. This process of identification exemplifies the first major step, but its effects will depend upon the human originators of the problem, now that the battle for the future has finally come to the birthplace of it all, Mother Earth.

Notes