At the start of John Carpenter’s They Live, our two working-class protagonists Nada (Roddy Piper) and Frank (Keith David) stroll through a shantytown in L.A. after a long day spent working at the construction yard. As they walk past the tents and makeshift homes of their homeless neighbors, Frank shares his story with Nada. Having left his wife and kids in Detroit to search for work after the collapse of all the steel mills, Frank barely contains his anger as he recalls how his employers all gave themselves raises right as all the construction workers stepped back and gave the steel companies time to recoup. All out of patience, Frank recants his cynical outlook on life in America. “The whole deal is like some kind of crazy game. They put you at the starting line. And the name of the game is ‘make it through life.’ Only, everyone’s out for themselves and looking to do you in at the same time. OK, man here we are. You do what you can, but remember, I’m going to do my best to blow your ass away.” A product of late 80s Reagan’s America, They Live explores the failings of unchecked capitalism and the ways American individualism is designed to keep its people apathetic, isolated, and cruel.
Long before the era of Reaganomics and long since the end of Reagan’s presidency in 1989, America has espoused ideals of individualism over the interests of a collective community. Preached by our government for the continued sustenance of the callous 1% and understood by the rest of the nation as a baseline for surviving the American free-for-all, the United States and its elected officials sustain that every individual has a chance at striking it rich in this fair country. In the pursuit of wealth, Americans should only consider themselves responsible for their individual actions, failings, and successes. This is a nation with no collective conscience. Our millionaires are not built off the backs of slave labor, they are self-made individuals who hustled to earn their wealth. Conversely, our grocery store employees and essential workers are not exploited laborers held hostage by a government that can absolutely afford to do better, they are individuals who were too stupid or lazy to climb up the ladder and place themselves on the backs of others to greater seats of wealth.
Carpenter takes the conditioning and indoctrination of America and transforms it into something even more literal — a signal transmitted across the country by an alien race disguising itself as the most affluent members of our society. As hinted by the crackling and strained transmissions of protesters on the television in the shantytown, “The poor and the underclass are growing. Racial justice and human rights are nonexistent. They have created a repressive society and we are their unwitting accomplices…They want benign indifference. Keep us asleep, keep us selfish, keep us sedated.” The transmission falls through after only a short few minutes, giving way to a barrage of commercials for the hottest beauty and fashion products of 1988 while leaving everyone watching with a searing headache and a stir of confusion.
This transmission echoes the lives of our two protagonists, two men who continually fail to listen to one another despite having every reason to band together against the odds beset upon them by their nation and the malicious forces behind it all. Despite slaving away in the construction yard all day, Nada can’t bring himself to accept Frank’s offer for food and shelter. Instead, this simple act of human kindness must be investigated from a distance as Nada follows Frank. At a crossroads, Frank turns to face Nada and tells him, “I don’t like anyone following me if I don’t know why they are.” Whether he’s driven by the forces of pride, distrust, or toxic masculinity, Nada’s response is simply, “I don’t join up with anyone unless I know where they’re going.”
The alienation and apathy of individualism persist across both ends of the political spectrum and stifles both Nada and Frank alike. Nada regales conservative beliefs that, if you deliver a hard day’s work for your money, you will someday get a chance at success. On the other end, Frank no longer wants any part of the American dream. His arduous struggles to survive in a capitalist society have separated him from his family and his home. But rather than radicalize him, this disillusionment only furthers the distance between him and those around him. As Nada investigates the suspicious activity of the man responsible for feeding them at the church across the street, Frank insists that Nada leave it alone. “It ain’t none of my business and none of yours. I’ve walked a white line my whole life, I’m not about to screw that up.” Prior to their eventual enlightenment, both of these characters only seem to find themselves accountable for their own actions. Frank chooses to not question the hand that feeds him the very same way Nada refuses to question the systems that left him out on the street. But, as Nada replies, “White line’s in the middle of the road. That’s the worst place to drive.” When the police roll in to disband the rebel movement inside the church and bulldoze the shantytown for good measure, they suffer the consequences of others around them and fall victim to a cruel system that disproportionately punishes members of the lower class.
Despite what our characters may believe at the outset of the film, our individual actions (or inaction) have collective consequences. Those who “walk a white line” may believe that they are acting separate from or beyond the interests of their government and other groups that seek to influence them, but this actually works in their favor. One person working alone is not a threat, but an asset. When we’re alone, we’re too preoccupied with making ends meet to see our neighbors hurting and struggling. When we’re alone, we become greedy and begin to line our pockets with more than we need. When we’re alone, we grow paranoid and start to stock up for the inevitable apocalypse. This is not in error, but rather by design. As the man in the transmission states, “They have made us indifferent to ourselves. We are focused only on our gain.” Those who callously climb ladders make for efficient middle managers just as those who prep for the apocalypse make for some incredible super-consumers. When Nada first puts on the glasses that give him true sight, he sees aliens pushing us to consume, urging us to fight for raises we’ll never get, and standing atop the pulpit proclaiming, “The old cynicism is gone. We have faith in our leaders. We’re optimistic as to what becomes of it all. It really boils down to our ability to accept. We don’t need pessimism. There are no limits.”
Even without donning sunglasses that would offer us a black-and-white view of the evils of our world, we all understand the cruelty and systematic injustice occurring across the nation in some way or another, whether we choose to look away and feign ignorance or we subscribe to ideologies and conspiracy theories that rationalize and hand-wave the horror in a way that keeps us greedy for that endless American grind. As well-off white socialites ignore the risks of the COVID-19 pandemic to dine outdoors, waves of peaceful protestors march on those very same streets to defund the police that threatens Black lives on a day-to-day basis. While our hospitals crowd beyond capacity and our nation’s medical staff all cry for help against an endless deluge of illness and death, people walk the streets without masks to crowd bars and movie theaters in staunch denial of the virus’ existence. The dissonance is the evidence: our denial of the dour state of our society is all the proof we need to know it exists. From the moment Nada opens his eyes to the hideous reality of the alien invasion, he does what many of us want to believe we’d do — resolutely stand up and take to the streets to relinquish the evils that have entrenched themselves in our society with vigilante justice. But when Frank is asked to put on the glasses that would show him the truth of the world, he would rather pummel his friend Nada to a pulp than wear the shades. Like so many of us, Frank doesn’t want to give up his individualist lifestyle and bear witness to the truth. He knows just as well as we do that this society is unjust — if he didn’t believe the glasses could show him this, then why would he refuse the simple and harmless act of putting them on — but is afraid of being accountable to this reality. Who would we become in light of the truth? Would we become radicalized and make sacrifices to help those who are hurting, or become callous to the horror so that we may live our most comfortable lives?
We are in the midst of a global pandemic that has brought to light the perils of our individualism. In the wake of COVID-19, we can no longer deny that our individual actions have a dramatic impact on our community. Every decision each and every one of us makes to step outside and put ourselves in proximity to others increases the risk of transmission of this deadly respiratory disease. Every non mandatory trip to stores, restaurants, and entertainment venues we take cannot be seen as the actions of an individual acting in their own interests, but the actions of someone actively sacrificing the safety and health of others for the sake of selfish indulgences. As people in nursing homes shut their doors to visitors and obey every precaution for the health of those in their care, who do we blame when our elders contract the virus and pass away? Perhaps we assign the blame to the nurses and staff who walk in and out of the building every day. Maybe they were irresponsible and participated in social gatherings and unnecessary shopping trips, but what if they weren’t? What if they were as safe as possible? What if they contracted the virus while working at a second job they needed to make ends meet? What if they contracted it while shopping for groceries at the same market as the selfish super-spreaders who partake in parties and dine at restaurants? When we are all funneled into the same spaces and are all part of the same community, we all suffer the consequences of selfish individuals. There is no such thing as walking a white line in American society. If you do not look out for your neighbors or consider the world around you when you act, then you are endangering everyone around you as you drive down the middle of the road.
