“I was only pleased with Alien,” said H.R. Giger. “The other things I was not very happy with.” Giger was 69 at the time, talking to Vice, throwing aside his entire career in movies. He had other careers. He was a painter, a sculptor, a man who built bars whose interiors resembled spinal cord wormholes into embryonic hellscapes. He did album covers, back when album covers were real things you could hold in your hand. He dabbled in videogames — and by “dabbled,” I mean “worked on a CD-ROM game that played on DOS, Amiga, and the Sega Saturn,” which are words barely anyone understood, even in 1992. He produced work steadily for decades.
Still, one imagines that Giger would not have been surprised by the fact that — after his death in Switzerland on Monday — the most common description of him was “the man who made the alien from Alien.” Not because the creature is the best thing Giger ever created. Far from it. It was just the one time that his utterly unique vision made it to the big screen. READ FULL STORY