Running Time: 2 hours, 3 minutes
Rating: R
Director: Ridley Scott
Quick Impressions:
I left the theater with four thoughts vying for attention in my mind.
1.) We’ve got to see Lawrence of Arabia. I think I watched part of it as a child, but David quotes it so often that it clearly factors into his motivations and perspective. And David is one-half of the core of this film.
2.) How different this film would have been had David been obsessed with, say, Cabaret!
3.) Prometheus should be paired with What to Expect When You’re Expecting and be shown to a) students writing essays b) couples trying to conceive c) students in an abstinence only sex ed program d) anyone outspoken on any side of any issue related to women’s reproductive rights (because I want to know how all these people would react)
4.) Prometheus is so much worthier of Alien than the Star Wars prequels were of the first two films. (I actually think that Revenge of the Sith and Return of the Jedi are not too far apart in quality.) I read recently that the success of Star Wars led Ridley Scott to abandon another project and make a sci-fi film (that became Alien). He has a much better track record with them than his inspiration. Prometheus may not surpass (or even equal) Alien, but it sure does run circles around Attack of the Clones.
I’ve been incredibly excited about Prometheus. It was probably my most anticipated movie this summer. But I wasn’t expecting a masterpiece. I never expect a masterpiece because what makes masterpieces so special is their relative rarity. Usually I’m satisfied if the movie just doesn’t suck horribly. Movies almost never live up to their hype. (As far as I’m concerned, only two films have actually lived up to all the advance praise I’d heard about them—The Dark Knight and The Lion in Winter.)
I think I also have a different idea of greatness than many cinephiles. (For example, I am in the extreme minority of people who think that Oliver! actually deserved to win best picture in 1968. Partially this is because I was obsessed with the character of Nancy when I was three, but I also think the choreography is extraordinary and brings London to life in a particularly Dickensian way. And that’s coming from someone who ordinarily doesn’t enjoy long dance sequences.) So I didn’t approach the movie thinking, 2001 is the greatest film of all time, and after it come Blade Runner and Alien, and Prometheus is destined to surpass them. So if that’s how you’re approaching the movie, then realize that my review may not tell you if you will enjoy the movie.
Because I had to wait until Tuesday night to see Prometheus, I couldn’t help hearing (from like, everybody) that the film had an amazing setup and then a disappointing final act. Other than that, I knew little about it. (I only watch previews in the theater, and I never read anything directly about a film before seeing it—although I do sometimes read interviews with the cast or director.) I knew that Michael Fassbender played an android, that the movie was sort-of a prequel to Alien, that it started out cerebral sci-fi and ended up a monster horror bloodbath (like most movies in the Alien franchise). And I’d heard that it raised a bunch of questions it didn’t answer.
I found the movie enjoyable from start to finish. Even though it’s not perfect, I’d love to have more movies like Prometheus show up in wide release in the summer. I’ve seen tons of movies already this summer, enough to notice a trend in them. The movies that sneak onto screens in limited release are good, and the blockbusters are not. I think the summer movie season would be better if the only two wide releases we’d had so far were The Avengers and Prometheus. Why can’t more blockbusters be at least somewhat thoughtful and artfully staged?
The Good:
About these unanswered questions. There are several legitimate mysteries in this story. If there’s not a sequel to this prequel, Scott’s film really does leave a lot of holes and fill-in-the-gaps-with-your-own –theories moments. But those profound questions asked and focused on in the beginning—Good grief! Were people really expecting answers? Is Scott making a movie or founding a cult? I mean, really, did you think David was going to say a few lines of gobbledygook, and then we were going to get definitive answers to all those profound questions that frame the story? Really? The silence is an answer, people. Cinematically, it’s a way more satisfying choice than providing some sort of actual answer (which is bound to disappoint everyone and possibly destroy the entire movie). The Book of Job is still read today, and it has basically the same answer. Oh, you don’t understand do you? Well, do you understand the Leviathan? It’s this big, powerful monster, and God made it for some reason, and if you’re a member of the crew of Prometheus, then watch out, it’s coming to eat you!
After watching the movie, I found an interview with Ridley Scott where he mentions that at one point, they’d toyed with the idea of pointedly tying the action of the story into the crucifixion. (I won’t say how because I don’t want to spoil the movie.) I think doing anything that specific would have been a disaster that cheapened the overall effect of the film. Silence can be frustrating, but it can also be profound. Plus, it leaves a space for our own thoughts. No answer is far better than a stupid one.
So one good thing about the story is that it raises powerful, profound questions. Scott doesn’t seem very interested in the origins of life. He seems far more interested in the meaning of it. And you can tell that the filmmakers are genuinely intrigued by the issues that they are exploring. Prometheus is less about launching into space and exploring our possible origins than it is a meditation on the human condition. It’s aptly named because a name that evokes Greek mythology also opens the door for reflections on what separates humans from greater (or lesser) beings. Unlike far too many summer blockbusters, Prometheus actually has something to say (or at least something to ask). The early scenes with David pair with the final conversation in the movie to make an interesting point, one that seems to be the central concern of the director.
Another enormous strength of the movie is Michael Fassbender’s performance as the not-quite-human David. Every Alien movie has some creepy, can-you-trust-him-or-not android running around, but this one takes the cake. I love Michael Fassbender. I would be perfectly content to watch him just walking around alone, watching a movie, eating, or preparing things—which is what happens for several minutes near the beginning of the film.
Fassbender has enormous talent and tremendous charisma. (I find it a bit annoying that his wonderful work in Shame lives on only in the form of undying jokes about his penis. I mean, the fact that he’s well-endowed aside, he gave a tremendous performance in that film. He always gives a good performance.) He’s incredible in Prometheus. His character dominates the film. Not only is he the hardest to understand (psychologically), but he also always seems to be up to something more interesting than what any of the others are doing. He emits a fabulous, creepy charisma, and watching him, you always wonder, why does this creature that was made amoral seem so actively sinister, so deliberately cruel? At several points, he seems to regard himself as superior to humans. Why is he so obsessed with Lawrence of Arabia? Does that explain his somewhat sadistic interaction style? Does he take pride in feeling no pain when he touches fire? Obviously the Prometheus myth is the important and not-so-subtle subtext for a number of relationships in this film, including David’s with his “father.” David is a fantastic character, and I would have happily watched the rest of the movie even if none of the others had woken up from cryosleep.
Elizabeth Shaw is also a fairly interesting character, certainly a likeable (and extremely emotional, empathetic) protagonist. Clearly she’s cut from the same cloth as Ellen Ripley, but she’s a lot weepier and much less pragmatic. She certainly has guts, though. And she’s not one to let even the most daunting obstacles stand in her way, that’s for sure. In the end, she may not be exactly whole, but she manages to keep her head.
Idris Elba is good, too, as the captain, and so are all the wacky supporting scientists (particularly Sean Harris, Kate Dickie, and Rafe Spall).
Prometheus also benefits from beautiful cinematography and intriguing art direction. The story gets a wonderful set-up, with perfect pacing and staging, and carefully crafted scenes that establish mood as well as plot. Its pacing and staginess reminds me so much of the first Alien that I attribute the film’s success in these areas to the vision of the director. Make sure you see this movie in a theater with good sound. The opening scene with all the rushing waterfalls seems all the more awe-inspiring when you can feel the water rushing over the rocks through your toes, resting on the empty seat in front of you.
The Negatives:
Guy Pearce’s make-up!! That’s so horrifying it gets a sentence all to itself without any verbs. (It scared all the verbs away.) Are they planning a prequel to this prequel? If not, why cast Pearce? Why not cast somebody older instead of an obviously young man who looks like he’s wearing a jack-o’lantern someone left sitting out in the sun for three days and then decorated with generous amounts of pancake make-up and fake liverspots?
Another crime the movie commits is underutilizing Chalize Theron. At first her character, Vickers, seems mysteriously antagonistic, but later as events progress, she starts to seem like the only sane person on the ship. Yes, she was always thinking only of herself but that’s a big step up from apparently not thinking at all.
All of the scientists on board the Promethus are guilty of horrible decision making skills. Usually scientists adhere to method and protocol of some kind. These people are, apparently, all crazy. And why would you think that if you’re exploring an alien world with lots of evidence of life that you should just stroll out into the first structure you see the moment you land (even if it’s almost nightfall) and without any weapons. (I mean, it’s not just that they didn’t think of the weapons, it’s that they pointedly rejected them.) Okay, maybe the people on the moon they’re exploring are friendly. But lots of people on Earth are friendly, too. Still, if you just set your ship down on any random spot on the planet, you could be mauled by a tiger or eaten by sharks before you even lay eyes on these friendly people. Also, if you’re wandering around in a room whose doorway is decorated with the ancient remains of a pile of humanoid corpses, and you see some strange mystery creature slithering up to you, perhaps you shouldn’t try to pet it. Granted, I’m not a biologist myself, but I’m pretty sure a key rule of working with animals is that you don’t start touching the animal unless you’ve established some sort of relationship with it or at least know what it is.
Also, what is the deal with Elizabeth’s boyfriend Charlie, played by Logan Marshall-Green? That guy has so many issues right from the start, and we never know exactly why. Sometimes, he seems jealous of David, and then he just starts to seem very screwed up. They should have sent him on a test trip abroad or something to see if he was emotionally stable enough for long-term space travel.
That raises another question. Is somebody else (like else else) pulling David’s strings? (I mean, we know that variations on the Weyland Corporation are always up to pretty much the same shenanigans. Is that what motivates David to pour Charlie a drink? What exactly is he trying to accomplish? (I’m trying to be vague to avoid spoilers. I can think of a lot of answers myself, but I don’t want to ruin the movie.)
Also, a big question, at that pivotal moment near the end of the movie, what does David actually say to the guy? We don’t get any subtitles or have any guarantee that David is being honest with us. We’re not sure if he has an agenda beyond the one he’s obviously hiding.
I’m trying to avoid spoilers, but I have to say, that may be another weakness of the movie—none of the big bombshell moments actually surprise us that much. There are several twists and “gasp!” moments in this film, but surely no one watching is really that surprised. They fall a little flat. And some seem extremely anticlimactic, like you want to groan, “Oh, is that all?”
The sequence where Elizabeth decides to try her hand at surgery is also very strange. It’s definitely her moment to shine, and by far the highlight both of Noomi Rapace’s performance and her character’s actions. But I’m not completely sure why everyone else reacts (or doesn’t react) in the way that they do. And frankly, I’m a little worried about infection plus possible misogynist ramifications of this whole business. It’s probably the best part of the movie, but then it doesn’t build to anything logical. It sort of cuts to something kind of strange. Watching it, your adrenaline is pumping, but your mind is going, “Wait! What?”
Best Action Sequence:
How can anyone not be captivated by the scene where Noomi Rapace’s Elizabeth Shaw takes care of business on the operating table? For a minute there, you’re like, Wait! Is this a deleted scene from Grindhouse? But then you realize, No, no, this is the very beating heart of the entire Alien franchise. This sequence is absolutely riveting. It doesn’t exactly go anywhere (that you’d expect), but it’s fascinating and gripping to watch.
Funniest Scene:
The best intentionally funny moment is the captain’s exchange with Vickers. Possibly this is meant to establish that she is human, though I’m not quite sure that it achieves that. But it is funny. Many other parts are also funny, though they’re not really supposed to be. (I’m not saying that’s a failure of the movie. I mean most horror movies become extreme comedy if you view them with some distance.) The “Oh, it’s just a glitch,” bit falls somewhere between intentional humor and the camp humor of horror.
Favorite Line:
David’s “From small beginnings come great things,” sounds so much like an apt quotation that I was positive he got it from Lawrence of Arabia, and he did. If this is not the tagline of this movie—I haven’t seen any posters, so I’m not sure—it certainly should be. It reminds me of Alien’s, “In space, no one can hear you scream,” my favorite tagline of all time.
Best Scene:
The most visceral moment in the movie—the part that grabs you, that goes for the gut instead of appealing to the intellect—is the part I already called out as the best action sequence. It’s a shame that the promise of that scene doesn’t really blossom into anything. The other scene that works pretty well is the initial exploration of the structure that they find on the moon’s surface.
Best Scene Visually:
The most powerful scene visually is the opening scene. I loved it. I’m not sure that I understood it completely. But I really loved it. It was beautiful and powerful and exciting.
Overall:
I really enjoyed Prometheus. It’s one of the best movies so far this summer even if it isn’t the greatest film of all time. I’m hoping this prequel kicks off a reboot of the franchise because the story clearly isn’t over yet. This film doesn’t look like it was made to stand alone. Hopefully Ridley Scott will direct the next installment because James Cameron is totally devoted to Avatar sequels, and I don’t think anybody wants to see a toothy xenomorph bursting out of a blue Na’vi belly. That’s just creepy.