Is it real, or is it Memorex?
The aliens are among us — or, more accurately, are us — in John Carpenter’s snowbound creep-fest.
The survivor of a UFO crash bounces from body to body, hiding behind the bushy beards of a group of justifiably-paranoid researchers trapped in a far-flung outpost.
When the guy next to you, or the dog nipping at your toes, could be a bloodthirsty alien waiting to shed its temporary skin, everyone is suspect.
Hated intensely in ’82, this has survived to be rightly revered as a genre classic, a perfect mix of sensational practical effects and nerve-jangling suspense.
