How A Sleazy Sci-Fi Movie Became The Biggest Guilty Pleasure Hit Of The 1990s

By Joshua Tyler
| Updated 1 hour ago

In 1995, a lowbrow script about a horny alien babe on a mating rampage landed in Hollywood’s lap. What could have been straight-to-video trash got a $35 million budget, an Oscar-winning cast, and designs from the guy who birthed the Alien xenomorph.

At first, critics sneered. Audiences showed up anyway. The movie clawed its way to box office glory, spawned a franchise, and embedded itself in pop culture as a B-movie triumph. It was just getting started, because when it hit the VHS market, it became the most essential film in the lives of every teenage boy alive in the ’90s, and guaranteed its star a permanent place on the Mount Rushmore of puberty-inducing uber babes. 

This is why Species… KILLED

Species Was Supposed To Fail

In the eyes of the era’s entertainment media, Species had every reason to flop and be forgotten. Its plot, a seductive alien hybrid hunting mates in L.A., screamed derivative schlock. It was ripping from Alien, The Terminator, The Fly, and even Splash. 

Critics called Species brainless exploitation. Heavy on nudity and gore, light on smarts. It still has a dismal 42% on Rotten Tomatoes. Spawn fan Roger Ebert (yes he really gave Spawn a high score) gave it only two out of four stars, calling it derivative and lacking smarts. 

It was the summer of 1995, one of the biggest and best movie summers ever. A summer dominated by blockbusters like Apollo 13, Batman Forever, Die Hard with A Vengeance, and Pocahontas.

Species was a mid-budget R-rated horror solo film led by a 19-year-old model with zero acting experience. Her name was Natasha Henstridge, and Species thrust her into a role demanding vulnerability, seduction, and monster morphs. 

Director Roger Donaldson, known for thrillers like No Way Out, was tackling sci-fi for the first time. The script went through eight drafts, starting as a cop procedural before leaning into sleaze. Add 90s anxieties over genetic engineering and alien invasion tropes already worn thin by Independence Day hype.

From the outside, it looked like MGM had bet $35 million on a film that could alienate family audiences and feminists alike, with its naked female monster as a sexual threat. 

As the movie’s release date drew closer, things only looked worse. Early test screenings were middling, and buzz focused more on tabloid hype than substance. Then Species arrived and killed it at the box office anyway.

Species Was A Box Office Beast

By every measure, Species was a smash. It opened to $17.1 million, MGM’s biggest debut of 1995, trailing only Apollo 13. Species raked in $113 million worldwide, a huge profit margin.

Audiences, who, thanks to all the tabloid furor over the movie’s nudity, were all men, loved it. That was just the start of the movie’s success. 

Species Delivers Action And Sex In A Big Way

Species kicks off with a bang: Scientists at a SETI lab splice human DNA with alien code from a cosmic message. The result? Sil, a rapid-growing hybrid girl who looks innocent but packs superhuman strength, smarts, and a killer instinct.

When they try to gas her, young Sil (Michelle Williams) busts out, morphs into adult form, and hits L.A. on a prowl to mate and breed an unstoppable species. Her drive becomes primal, seductive, and deadly.  She lures men, then murders them if they don’t measure up.

Enter the team: Government boss Xavier Fitch rounds up mercenary Press Lennox, biologist Laura Baker, anthropologist Stephen Arden, and empath Dan Smithson. Their mission: Hunt Sil before she spawns doom.

It’s a cat-and-mouse chase through clubs, hotels, and sewers. Sil shifts shapes, regenerates, and unleashes tentacles. The climax is a fiery showdown where humanity barely wins, but a mutated rat hints at more horror.

Species blends Alien terror with erotic thriller vibes. It’s sleazy, gory, and paced like a rocket. There is no profound philosophy, just visceral fun.

The hottest babe on the planet is a seductive predator who doesn’t like wearing clothes. That’s the hook. In retrospect, it’s insane that anyone thought this wouldn’t work.

Species’ Humble Origins

Species wasn’t born from a visionary auteur. Writer Dennis Feldman pitched it in 1987 as The Message, a cop procedural about alien invasion via DNA. Studios passed. He retooled it into a 1993 spec script, snagged by producer Frank Mancuso Jr.

MGM greenlit it, tapping director Roger Donaldson. Feldman wanted a grounded hunt; Donaldson amped the action and added lots of sex. Eight script drafts later, it leaned into exploitation.

Fresh off Alien’s Oscar, H.R. Giger designed Sil’s alien form, biomechanical, sexy, and terrifying. Steve Johnson’s XFX built practical suits and puppets; Boss Film Studios handled CGI morphs, including early motion capture. Filmed in L.A., Utah, and Puerto Rico’s Arecibo Observatory for that sci-fi cred.

Species Spared No Expense On Its Killer Cast

Despite its exploitative nature, Donaldson assembled an improbably stacked ensemble. 

Ben Kingsley, post-Gandhi Oscar, plays the arrogant Fitch, uncomfortable but committed. Michael Madsen brings Reservoir Dogs grit as the no-nonsense Press, loving the macho role. Alfred Molina’s Arden is the comic relief intellectual. Forest Whitaker’s empath Dan senses vibes but annoys some. Marg Helgenberger grounds the team as the sharp doc. All pros elevating B-material.

That’s nice. None of them mattered.

Remember, Species hook is that audiences are going to watch the hottest babe on the planet whip off her clothes and devour men. That means there’s only one casting decision of consequence, and that’s who plays Sil. And let’s be honest with each other here, the most crucial thing about Sil, for any of that to work, is how she looks. 

So they hired 19-year-old Natasha Henstridge, a model with no acting experience and the body of a goddess. Somehow, she not only nails the look with her genetics, she nails the performance too. 

Henstridge doesn’t have many lines, but she uses her unnaturally perfect beauty to capture Sil’s eerie innocence and feral hunger. Her numerous nude scenes hyped in tabloids and men’s mags drove a fever-pitch buzz.  Henstridge’s poise made Sil iconic. 

The Attraction Of Forbidden Thrills

Thanks to Henstridge, Species thrives on taboos. It’s horny horror: Sil’s mating quest means steamy seductions turning gore-fest. Nude scenes aren’t just gratuitous; they’re plot fuel, blending eros and terror.

Giger’s designs shine in dream sequences and transformations, surreal, biomechanical nightmares. The movie’s practical effects hold up; however, that mid-’90s CGI does NOT hold up at all. Still, it was cutting-edge at the time and the talk of nerds everywhere. 

Critics called Species derivative, but that’s the charm. It owns its B-movie roots: Fast pace, jump scares, creature reveals. No pretension, just entertainment.

Species Made A Big Impact On 90s Men’s Culture

Species hit like a meteor. Male frenzy over Henstridge’s nude scenes packed theaters.

It influenced cryptids, some link Puerto Rico’s chupacabra sightings to Sil’s design. It popularized DNA-splicing tropes, echoing in later films like Splice.

In VHS rentals and late-night pay cable Skinemax reruns, it soon gained almost legendary status. Species became something whispered about by teenage boys, who still didn’t have the internet. They sought it out in shady corner video stores willing to rent rated R movies to teens without IDs.

Species became a cultural touchstone for guys in the 1990s, a rite of passage. Natasha Hentsridge became a secret sex symbol whom every man knew, while women barely knew she existed. 

The franchise? There were low-quality sequels that were largely ignored.

Henstridge’s acting career never really took off. She’s still thought of as the girl from Species, but that’s something she should be proud of. 

In a decade of blockbusters, Natasha’s mid-tier monster lusted its way to the top. Sleaze with substance, horror with heat.  Species was one-of-a-kind cultural touchstone shared among men, of the type that’ll probably never happen again.