Why I Let My First-Grader Watch Alien

Because chest-bursters build character.

Photo: John Allen Wooden | Epostasy.com

I let my seven year-old watch the 1979 horror classic Alien. Actually, I didn’t just let him; I personally cued it up for him. And then, as the titular space pupa burst out through its human host’s ribcage, metamorphosing into an exquisitely grotesque angel of death, my son shrieked and thrashed on the couch in primal terror, like a wide-eyed Pleistocene caveboy frantically fleeing a saber-toothed tiger. So go ahead, call Child Protective Services on me. Tell them how for the next two days, he had vivid nightmares of being stalked by acid-blooded Xenomorphs. And then tell them how at breakfast one week later, he begged, “Hey Dad, when can we watch Alien 2?!”

So we watched James Cameron’s Aliens, followed by every other installment in the seven-film franchise. And each time HR Giger’s drooling, insectoid killing machines made their sensuously murderous bow, he savored every heart-stopping second.

I know, this breaks all the rules of contemporary American parenting. The Alien films are Rated R, explicitly violent, and scary—the kind of content that leaves indelible marks on the tender psyche of an innocent, impressionable child. What possible good could come of such an abominable corruption?

Well, actually, I’m counting on those indelible marks – because Alien movies teach kids three damned good lessons!

1. The Art of Accumulated Dread

I want my son to have the presence of mind to appreciate patient, deliberative storytelling, and Alien movies are old-school slow burns. The tagline, “in space, no one can hear you scream,” isn’t mere marketing; it’s a declaration of the awesome narrative power of the infinite silence and nothingness of the universe.

In contrast, too many contemporary movies turn stories inside-out, pandering to modern audiences’ gnat-like attention spans. Cinematic climaxes once reserved for the 100-minute mark are now gimmicky opening scenes—lest the ADHD brigade’s eyes glaze over and start posting one-star shit-takes on Rotten Tomatoes. Viewers then must endure whiplash-inducing bumper car rides up and down the timeline to fill in the blanks, before suffering two or three (or nine) tacked-on finales that stretch runtimes to an exhaustingly tedious 3+ hours. I’m looking at you, MCU!

Alien movies do none of these things. They have a beginning, a middle, and an end—in that order. The content of the stories may be violent, but their pacing is almost gentle—with opening scenes so hushed, in theaters you can hear a popcorn bucket softly capsize ten rows behind you. They are master classes on atmospheric build—meditations on the rewards of patience, on savoring narratives as they unfurl naturally.

I’m confident that by instilling a love of Alien stories, I’m also increasing my son’s ability to focus. In turn, he’s becoming a better learner, more capable of maturing into a functioning member of society—who will thrive professionally and someday allow me to live rent-free in his lavishly appointed pool house.

2. Heroism Knows No Gender

I wanted my son to revere Ellen Ripley, Alien’s protagonist, not as a heroine, but as heroism incarnate. Many have called Ripley—played masterfully by Sigourney Weaver in the first four films—a “feminist icon,” but that’s a tired and simplistic identity lens if you ask me. The truth is much more deliciously subversive: way back in the retrograde ‘70s, Alien’s lead character was specifically written to be… female or male. Director Ridley Scott didn’t change a word of dialogue after casting Weaver.

Sure, postmodernist prudes point to a few Alien scenes of a taut, braless Ripley in her retro-cut tighty-whiteys as a “problematic” male gaze, but if we’re being intellectually honest, that’s no more objectifying than a greased-up, perky-nippled Rambo popping off a few thousand rounds of hot lead. Anyone who says otherwise is peddling disingenuous, sex-negative double standards.

If my child grows up perceiving courage as utterly divorced from chromosomes, that’s a parenting win in my book. And it will be partly because Ellen Ripley is the thinking person’s Schwarzenegger; she embodies human strength in the face of otherworldly existential peril. Or as my son succinctly describes her, “The most bad-assed EVER!”

3. Fear Makes Us Stronger

Yes, Alien movies are horror, and watching them scares kids. But fear is natural. Fear is our most primal, lizard brain instinct. Because fear triggers our self-preservation mode, fear is the lynchpin to survival. To wit, a stiff shot of 100-proof fear is good.

A child exposed to stylized, fictional fear from within the bosom of a nurturing home is a child better equipped to process actual, real-world fear triggered by genuine danger. Conversely, a child insulated and over-protected by safetyist parents, who never experiences any fear whatsoever, will be the proverbial deer in headlights when confronted by threats.

Anyway, Alien may be horror, but it’s fantastical. It’s not modern-day slasher torture porn that revels in human sadism—it’s fundamentally pro-human, with decidedly modest body counts. More meaningfully, the Alien Xenomorph also carries the torch in a millennia-spanning tradition of cautionary monster folk tales. From ancient Egypt’s heart-devouring Ammit to the Mayan death bat Camazotz, from Anglo-Saxon bog beast Grendel to medieval Russia’s child-devouring witch Baba Yaga in her chicken-legged hut, every age and place has its boogeyman for teaching kids the same timeless lesson: don’t wander too far into the dark.

And you know what? Kids crave that lesson—but they also know their own psychic limits, and how to self-protect. For my little guy, during extra-scary scenes—like when the Xenomorph Queen tears away from her gooey, detachable vulva to chase Ripley up a flaming elevator shaft—he made like a prairie dog, burrowing under the couch pillows. But he came back 30 seconds later. They always come back.

Photo: John Allen Wooden

Later this month, my seven year-old Alien mega-fan will turn 14. Last week, on the final night of summer vacation, he invited his besties over to watch the premiere of the all-new FX series, Alien: Earth. We set up a projector in the back yard, hung a sheet on the house, and the young teen boys and girls squirmed and squealed at a scene 46 years in the making: Xenomorphs making landfall on terra firma.

If having my first-grader watch Alien was wrong, I don’t ever want to be right. In fact, it’s one of the best parenting moves I ever made. So if Child Protective Services ever does turn up at our house, they’d better have Colonial Marines backup, because we’ll sic the face-huggers on ‘em, and toss those infantilizing twits in the Nostromo brig.

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About John Allen Wooden:

Howdy. I’m a satirist, creative director, and dad based in Los Angeles. Having done hard time in big online media, ad agencies, late night TV, politics, and parenting, I created Epostasy as my little lab for gleefully dismembering all those self-important things. You can check out my latest kids book, The Liking Tree: A Kids & Social Media Fable, along with other shenanigans at johnallenwooden.com