I'm not sure anybody has ever noticed, but quite literally every single one of James Gunn’s projects involve an alien invasion in some way or form, and it totally kicks ass every time. Yes, I am being serious, as a matter of fact and I’m probably the only person to ever realize it in the entire history of modern cinema. Breathe deep, you fucking nerds.
What’s the matter with you? You thought this was going to be a slander piece? I’ll slander your mother into the ground. We don’t terrorize here. That shit is for the weak-hearted. We nourish. We question. But we do not bully.
Look it: SLITHER - An alien invasion takes place in a small town; SUPER - An alien invasion takes place in a man's brain; GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY I & II - Alien invasions from outer space are attempted; THE SUICIDE SQUAD - An alien invasion of starfish; PEACEMAKER - An alien invasion of praying mantises.
INVASIONS! INVASIONS ABOUND!
No, there are no other titles within his body of work—do not check, I already checked. They’re not there. I feel like you’re checking right now when I already checked for you. Let’s get things back on track. I just feel like you’re probably fact checking me right now instead of reading what I have to say, and I don’t like that.
His mind is extraordinary. James’. Jameses? The mind of James. Extraordinary. Some might say stupendous, even, but it is clearly also stupendously riddled with aliens, and we the people, as consumers of his tentacled nightmares en masse, deserve to know why that is. No, I don’t particularly feel that the question in question is brazen. Is it a fetish. Is it therapeutic. What is it exactly about reinterpreting INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS ad infinitum that holds so much weight to him personally, as a tentacle-less human being amongst us. It seems kind of arbitrary, right? Does he know any other stories. This is a place that is bereft of judgment. I only want to pick your mind, James, and to also invade your personal boundaries if I can.
Did you like what I did there? Did you catch that?
I said invade. Like an alien. Like all his movies.
Listen, sometimes we just really enjoy a story when we first experience it and then we decide to only want to hear that exact same story for the rest of our lives. Forever. It actually happens very often. When I was a kid, I never wanted to read Little Bunny Foo Foo, ever, under any circumstances, ever, because it fucking terrified me. I mean, absolutely pulverized my nervous system into gnashed shit served at Sunday brunch, and I would lock up, and I’d drop to the floor screaming, “No! Not Little Bunny Foo Foo! No!” Just Niagara Falls on my face. Blubbering like a little child. Because I was one. Thrashing while my parents kept on reading the Little Bunny Foo Foo despite my blatant cries of desperation. So, that’s, like, a really good example of the complete opposite of that. Of never wanting to hear a story for the rest of your life forever. Because that shit is so psychologically damaging for you as a person to re-live and you’d rather not traverse those waters again because they were perilous enough the first time. The second time, even, as well. All the times that it happened, actually.
So, I'm curious. Maybe something similar happened to James when he was a youngling? Except on the other side--the flipped coin side of it. On the other end of whatever all this is that I just explained being the contrary. Does it stem from a childhood urge to perfect said story. Has anybody ever told him to stop. You know? I feel that these are all rightful questions that deserve answers. I don't feel like I'm being too outlandish here.
Anyway. We do love you, James. I love you. Dearly, if it need be scrutinized. Potential fetish and all. Even despite you kind of reminding me of that one uncle at Thanksgiving who shows up every few years to remind us all of that time he went fishing down at Lake Malahackey. It's still a damn fine story, truth be told, and one I'll happily listen to every time.
Bless you, you ol' son of a Gunn.
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