Not-So-Terrifying Metal Tube: Connecting Resident Alien to Travel
Babies are right about planes. Yes, they may scream and thrash for hours upon hours on a flight. But who wouldn’t? Airplanes are unnatural. We are in the air flying in a terrifying metal tube. During the flight, we’re squished next to strangers, fighting off nausea, and eating airplane “food”. There is the constant fear of losing one’s luggage or retrieving one’s luggage and dropping it on someone’s head. Did I mention that we are flying in the air? In a terrifying metal tube? So, yes. Babies are right. If we were more honest we would also be screaming inconsolably the duration of the trip.
My assessment may be biased by my recent multi-hour flight. I was very fortunate to be taking a trip that required a multi-hour flight at all. I was also fortunate that the flight was not over ten hours. I am very aware and grateful of the aligning of the stars that allowed me to be on that terrifying metal tube.
However, I am also aware my flight went through a series of complications that a stand-up comedian would make a Netflix special about. By takeoff, my seatmate could probably feel me shaking and smell the sweat sticking my clothes to my body. This was partly because this voyage was the first time I’d flown alone. Every routine air-trip stressor convinced me I’d somehow angered an unknown god of international travel. My trip had been wonderful and fulfilling a childhood dream. Getting home, on the other hand, felt like one of my childhood nightmares about moving mall mannequins.
For those reasons, seeing the show Resident Alien on my seat TV made my day. Resident Alien (2021) is a SyFy original series that recently finished its third season. It’s based on a Dark Horse comic series of the same name. The plot follows an alien who crashes on Earth. The alien (Alan Tudyk) was on a mission to destroy the Earth, but couldn’t until he fixed his spaceship. He adopted the identity of town doctor Harry Vanderspeigle in attempts to fulfill his mission. During the show, he makes friends with the town people, and grows to love them and humanity. His love for his friends shifts his goals until he no longer wants to destroy the Earth, but protect them. The show is side-splittingly funny, with lines that I memorized and quote to my family members.
This hilarity is improved by the phenomenal casting and sizzling chemistry of the entire cast. The characters are generally separated into dynamic duos with their own funny dynamics. This develops into deep, compelling friendships propelling both characters into complimentary arcs while interacting with the other cast. This then starts more funny, then impactful character interaction and arcs, which ripples out until you’re invested in the whole cast. The showrunners play with its setting of small town Patience in the mountains of Colorado. They create intriguing dangers and beautiful shots from this setting. The usage of the mountains as both treacherous and an escape heightens the feeling of danger before warring aliens are involved. The show also truly embodies the feeling of a small town. The cast is so expansive and every character so well-written you feel as if the whole community is involved in the show. The show’s writing turns several mechanics I usually dislike —like voice-overs, or occasional extreme violence for comedic effect —into compelling aspects of the show. Both of these tropes are done to emphasize the growth of Harry’s character, an arc so engrossing that it supports the emotional arcs of every other plot line. Every aspect of the show creates something not only hysterical, but heartfelt. I could go on about the endless positives of the show (I am nowhere near finished). Mainly, however, watching the show made me cry. It made me cry not only multiple times, but on multiple rewatches.
One of the main themes of this show is the kindness and empathy of humankind. People take care of each other, selflessly and constantly which inspires Harry to do the same. I had always loved this message, but this rewatch had a new meaning for me. I’d always interpreted the show as being about how we love our friends. This time it stood out to me that we don’t just love our friends, but strangers too.
My journey has allowed me first-hand glimpses of the kindness of strangers. Museum owners noticed my group’s fascination with their subjects, and showed us special exhibits. People gave me impromptu tours and directions when I got lost. A group of people I’d only met a few days earlier offered to travel nearly an hour with me because I was afraid of being alone after dark!
On the plane kindness to strangers boiled over in the rows near me. A baby on the plane started screaming uncontrollably after an especially rough bit of turbulence. Nobody became frustrated. Instead, everyone tried to help. I saw three or four different flight attendants stop by offering everything from extra food to calling people. The attendants continued to come and check on the baby every few minutes — including flight attendants not assigned to our row. A nearby family assured them the baby had not actually been harmed because they’d had a better view of what happened. The family continued repeating the same phrase until the parents had calmed. Even people who were too far away to help (like myself) took off headphones or woke up to watch the proceedings with concern. Eventually, the baby stopped crying.
After this, I watched Resident Alien’s fifteenth episode of season two, “The Best of Enemies”. During the episode, one of the characters is injured. The entire supporting cast comes to their aid. That episode ends by showing all the characters rushing into the hospital to see their friend. The voiceover (Harry’s voice) says, “…I was surprised by the feeling of love I had…That’s understandable because I am new to Earth. But why does love surprise humans? Love is like air, even if you cannot see it, you have to know it’s there.”
I listened to these words as the camera panned up to look at all the characters below, much like my own view from the plane. The line reminded me of parents and group leaders waiting up by the phone until they heard everyone returned to their hotels safely. It also made me think of the friends I went to see on the trip, who carried my luggage to my lodgings without a word. It reminded me of all the people who I know cared about me, caring about me in invisible ways throughout our entire lives.
But it also reminded me of the people nearly invisible to me. Ticket sellers and restaurant employees had taken time out of their shift to explain the local geography to me. Tourists who had taken photos of me by attractions, taking multiple angles, even bending down to get me centered in frame. Strangers are kind to me in invisible ways all the time when I am home. I never stopped to think about this kindness, because I hadn’t ever received so much of it in such a short amount of time. To be frank, I had never needed so much of it before.
I could end this essay with a beautiful scene of love and friendship from my trip. There were the sheepdogs among the green hills which faded into misty blue horizons. Every part of their bodies tensed as they shepherded fluffy sheep with constant care. My group of friends dozing in a park dotted with green trees, snacking by a sun-dappled river, browsing ancient and beautiful bookstores all under a clear, cyan sky. A couple stood with their backs to the beautiful black water of the Thames. They did not focus on the globes of brilliant light seeming to float around the water, only on each other. It would be easy to end this essay with any of these scenes.
However, I choose to end instead within a terrifying small metal tube. A cramped, dimly lit, smelly, tube. Because within that terrifying metal tube a group of strangers did everything in their power to make it less terrifying. For no reason other than love. Traveling, like life, can be equal parts wonderful and hellish. Making it even a little less hellish (on purpose) is an act of love. I agree with Harry Vanderspeigle that love can be invisible and ever-present. But, it does not have to be invisible. Taking some time to notice the acts of service around you is not only good for world-destruction minded aliens. It can also help brighten all of our lives, and make both the desirable and detestable more bearable.