So I sat there, worried
yet hoping for the best. As I shifted in
my seat, my brother leaned to his right and started chatting with his pal. See, I’d skipped out on movie outings before
with the pair because I don’t like horror movies. Me being the youngest of the trio (and both
of them having been around during my Little League years), I tend to take flak
pretty often, on this subject most of all.
“This movie might get a little too scary for him,” my brother chided,
nudging me in the arm.
“I don’t like horror
movies because I think they’re scary,” I said calmly. “I don’t like horror movies because I think
they’re stupid.” And I meant it. Maybe I’ve just been exposed to the wrong
films, but I’ve never found any merit in them.
In my eyes, they’re often just venues for A) jump scares, B) gross-out
spectacle, C) killing off characters that the movie doesn’t even pretend are
important, and D) a liberal application of uncovered lady parts. But in spite of all that, I believed Prometheus would bring something
awe-inspiring and thoughtful to the table -- something to make me believe that
it wasn’t a franchise built on chest-bursting nasties. I’ve been wrong before on movies; I wanted to
be wrong again, and walk out thinking that Prometheus
was worth it.
In retrospect, I
probably should have lowered my expectations.
(Spoilers by the barge-load to follow, along with a slurry of highly
opinionated opinions. You’ve been
warned.)
All right. Just like I did with The Avengers and The Hunger Games, I’m going to go (more
or less) straight down the list of things that happened in the movie, and my
thoughts on them. But before I do, I’d
just like to remind you of my little chart from before.
Keep this in mind as
you go, because we’re going to talk about it later.
--So the movie opens
with Voldemort -- wait, what? Why is
he…? No, never mind. If I get caught up on things like that, I’ll
be here for the next year. So the movie
opens up with Voldemort a pale, not-quite-human bodybuilder standing
before a waterfall. He opens up a small
container, which happens to be full of some nasty-looking black gunk. Naturally, he sucks it right up, and to say
he reacts poorly to it would be an understatement. He takes a tumble, and we see his DNA
(through the magic of CG) begin to mutate and turn black. The DNA scene is actually pretty interesting,
setting the stage for things to come, and the whole bodybuilder thing sets the
stage for mysteries to be solved.
--Only…the mysteries
aren’t really solved. What exactly was
the point of that scene? My brother
asked me the same question earlier today.
At the time (and at the start of my answer), I suggested that it was the
first step in a ritual; historically, cultures have used herbs and chemicals to
put themselves into a trance, either as a means to connect with their god(s) or
take part in some wild festivals. But
when he asked me that today, I started to realize my answer was pretty much
just conjecture. Why would he take that
stuff in? Why would he keep that stuff
in a container? Does that mean that it’s
customary for his people to slurp up the gunk?
If so, why? Or was he just trying
to commit suicide? And if that’s the case, then why? I’m not opposed to having questions and
mysteries proposed at the start of a story, but if you’re going to make a scene
that makes us wonder, then answer them by
the story’s end.
--Hold on, let me check
the wiki…
“In the distant past, the spacecraft of an advanced humanoid alien race
arrives on Earth. One of the aliens consumes a dark liquid, causing its body to
disintegrate and fall into a nearby waterfall—seeding Earth with the building
blocks of life, DNA.”
That's...feasible.
--We skip ahead a bit
and meet two researchers, Elizabeth Shaw and Charlie Holloway doing what they
do best: research the shit out of some caves.
They manage to find some cave paintings that help prove their theory
that a race of…somethings…left a star map for the humans to come through the
galaxy and find them. Sooooooo…I guess
they gave humanity the benefit of the doubt and assumed that not only people
would be able to find the cave paintings thirty-five thousand years later, but
also survive any number of planetary disasters, AND eventually become advanced
enough to head to the aliens’ home? And
if there are multiple clues left behind, does that mean that if any one of the
cave paintings wasn’t found that they wouldn’t have as much proof? Or no proof at all? Or were the paintings the remnants left by
humans? Were humans even around back
then? I thought the earliest cave
paintings dated back to 28,000 years ago, so does that mean that there were
humans beforehand? Where the big white
guys precursors? Did they -- dammit,
forget it! Let’s just move on before I
give myself a headache.
--So there’s going to
be a space expedition to the moon to find the forerunners of the human race --
the “Engineers,” as they call them.
There’s a crew of about 20 assembled for a brief conference, but (as is
the standard) only about five of them matter -- Shaw and Holloway, of course,
the cool beauty Vickers, Captain Janek, AKA the last black man in the future,
and David the android.
--Before I get too far
ahead of myself, I want to ask you a question.
Given what you know about machines in fiction and their tendency
to…well, flip out and kill people, what would your course of action be if you
ever met one? Would you be nice to it,
and try to treat them as humanely as possible?
Or would you treat the robot -- the clearly sentient, highly-adaptive
robot that can learn new concepts quickly and efficiently -- worse than the
bucket you use to mop up? I mean really; not one character, not one, ever says anything nice to
David. People are constantly talking
down to him, making jokes about him, saying that he wouldn’t understand…even
his “father,” Weyland of Weyland
Industries (the one funding the expedition), says flat-out that David’s just a
machine that’ll never have a soul, and heavily implies that he’s inferior
because of it. Seriously, why not just
give him a T-shirt that says “I WILL DRAMATICALLY BETRAY YOU ALL FOR MY OWN
BENEFIT” and be done with it?
--Okay, enough joking
around. I’ll happily admit that the
first part of the movie -- the “exploring new worlds and discovering ancient
mysteries” angle -- is actually my favorite part. Maybe it’s just because I’m burnt out from E3
and the violence festival, but it’s nice to have a story that (at first)
doesn’t rely on gunplay and murder to progress the plot. And to the movie’s credit, there are a lot of
sweeping shots that, even for a guy that “doesn’t care about graphics,” are
still pretty impressive. Not in terms of
CG, but just what they’re trying to show off: a massive, sweeping, empty and
melancholy world. I’d have preferred for
there to be a more varied color palette, but I suppose that would spoil the
movie’s tone. And make no mistake,
what’s there is good.
--So the expedition
takes two years to reach the moon where the Engineers supposedly lie. Fortunately, the crew is put into cryosleep
so they can wake up ready to set off (well, almost -- Shaw spends a fair amount of time throwing up after her
wake-up call). But of course,
everybody’s asleep but David, because he has to study all these ancient
languages so he can be the translator when they meet the Engineers. Okay, question. Ignoring the fact that forcing an
already-clearly-misanthropic android to spend two years completely alone and
the effects on his mind, did they make him read through all those texts by
normal means? Couldn’t they have just
uploaded all that info into his brain, and have him sort it out? If he’s the product of a society a hundred
years more advanced than our own, shouldn’t that be second-nature? And what happens if they lose David? What if there’s an accident and he gets fried
or something? Do they have a backup
plan? (Well, technically they do, but
I’ll get to that.)
--One of the other
things that I like about the first part of the movie is that it doesn’t start
off with noise and murders. It takes
time to build the atmosphere, the suspense, and the tension. Even if at least ¾ of the cast only exists to
be murdered fantastically, at least the movie has enough sense to make us wait
for it, and mold the world around these victims. As other reviewers have said, you can’t help
but get drawn into the movie’s world.
--Like I said before,
only five people (again, Shaw, Holloway, David, Vickers, and to a lesser extent Janek)
matter. While the rest are unimportant,
I have to give credit to the movie for trying to make the main five diverse and
interesting. Holloway’s a bit on the
impetuous side and dedicated to the cause; Vickers is cold and calculating, and
puts the mission (and her well-being) above all else; Janek is surprisingly
laid-back, and brings both lighthearted moments and a sense of levity, however
brief, into the movie; David wants to kill everyone do as he’s told,
albeit with a bit of snark, but you get the sense that he’s just as curious
about the Engineers' mysteries as all the rest -- maybe more so.
--Shaw is…well, a
little bit harder to describe. The crux
of her character lies in her faith, born from her late father’s words. That’s cool and all, and it’s not like it
makes Shaw any worse of a character (on the contrary…although her guaranteed
status as a survivor might play into it).
Likewise, I’m not knocking religion in general, and I approve of the
movie for accepting other religions besides Christianity. But…well, remember my chart from earlier?
This is what I think:
if you’re not ready to talk about religion in the context of your movie’s
themes, don’t bring up religion, period. It’s a delicate subject; while it boost your
story’s position in terms of design (the x-axis), you’re taking a huge risk
that requires high execution (again, the y-axis). Succeed,
and you’ll have a strong product for sure.
Screw up, however, and it drags the whole thing down.
You follow me? Well, it gets worse. When you have a movie on the left end of the
spectrum -- i.e., a movie that’s stupid by design -- you don’t expect as much
from it. The obvious example would be The Avengers; it’s an extremely simple
story and the subject matter (superheroes punching baddies) isn’t exactly
Shakespearian, but it manages to entertain by way of its extremely-high
execution. When you have a movie that’s
on the right end of the spectrum, the expectations are a lot higher. You assume that the movie knows what it’s
talking about, and can do so with ease -- a synthesis of storytelling ability
as well as meaningful ideas and themes.
Screw that up, and you’ve got a movie that’s as detestable -- if not
more -- than a Michael Bay film.
Get it? Got it?
Good. Keep that in mind, because
we’ll be coming back to it later.
--So Shaw, Holloway,
David (after taking crap for being a robot, again), and the red shirt brigade
head into some caves to explore. Like I
said, I like moments like these; I’m genuinely interested in seeing what
secrets this alien world and its people have to offer. It’s quiet, it’s tense, it’s suspenseful, and
even though you know the countdown’s started on the monster mash, the movie at
least makes you feel like the actual scientific exploit matters. Truth be told, I wouldn’t mind if the whole
movie was like this.
--Unfortunately, it’s
right around this part where the movie’s logic starts to slip up. After a quick scan of the environment when
they reach a safe haven from the surface, Holloway decides to take off his
helmet. Now, I’m not an expert when it
comes to science, but when he says “Come on guys, take of your helmets, the
air’s fine!” I almost started screaming at him.
NO. NO. NO YOU IGNORANT WHELP. YOU DON’T TAKE OFF YOUR HELMET WHILE VISITING
AN ALIEN WORLD. YOU KNOW SCIENCE. YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS. I mean, really. Yes, the air might be safe to breathe, but is
exposing yourself on an alien world, one with little to no prior data on its
environment, and NO understanding of what sort of life forms (big and small) lie
within REALLY the best idea?
--And on that note, why
would the expedition team NOT bring weapons with them? Seriously, Shaw directly refuses to bring
weapons along for the trip. I’ll accept
that they want to try diplomacy with the aliens, but…hey, here’s a
thought. If you find some horrible
creature that wants to kill you, do you think that you can talk your way out
trouble? Given that bears aren’t exactly
known for their diplomacy on Earth, why would you think that this new planet
would be without dangerous creatures? To
some extent, I can accept Shaw’s line of thinking…but when I consider the movie
from an outsider-looking-in perspective, and as someone who knows this is part
of the Alien canon, this is a phenomenally brain-dead idea.
It wouldn’t be so bad
if -- by my theoretical chart -- the movie didn’t demand rational thought by
way of being intelligent by design. But
it is. When you have a team of scientists,
you expect each and every one of them, even if they’re out of their field, to
use rational thought and think about their own self-preservation well before
first contact. When you have one
scientist that takes off his helmet and encourages others to do the same, and
when you have another scientist who bans the use of defensive measures, it
hurts the movie. It makes it
increasingly stupid by execution.
--Side note, now that I
think about it: I like how during the briefing, the two guys who think that
meeting God is bullshit and/or pointless have raised their death flags so high
they might as well have strapped them to the top of the Empire State Building.
--The group sees
holographic projections of the big white guys running through the caves. Apparently, one of them was following the
rest of the group and trying to escape, but he ended up getting decapitated by
the door. Sooooo…how exactly did he
manage that? No matter; Alien Head
get! Anyway, I like how the cannon
fodder brothers Fifield and Milburn decide to split off from the rest of
the group hoping to improve their odds.
It doesn’t work, but…hey, at least they tried.
--A big damn storm
sweeps over the surface, forcing the group (sans the two “smart guys”) to head
back until it blows over. It brings a
decisive end to the exploration bit that I enjoyed, but I’ll let that slide. What I want to know is how Shaw manages to
drop the alien head -- the one thing that they should have kept practically
fused to their bodies -- onto the ground. Sure, she manages to get it back
(albeit at the risk of getting swept up by the storm), but still…that seems
like the kind of thing you’d want to take better care of.
--Maybe my memory’s a
little hazy, but were there any attempts to scan the crew after they walked
back onto the ship? You know, since they
were running around without helmets? If
they were concerned enough to use flamethrowers to clean up the refuse from the
storm, wouldn’t they be equally concerned about the well-being of the team? Janek, especially? I mean, come on, man…
--Okay, let’s talk
about some of the other characters for a bit.
Captain Janek (whose name I didn’t know until I checked the Wiki -- I
knew it was something with a J,
though) is a pretty cool character…and I’m not just saying that because he’s
black, or because he was in Thor. I hold levity in stories in EXTREMELY high
esteem; I’ll accept that not every story needs to be full of laughs, and some
stories revel in grit, but I think that tone is more than just “angst angst
angst angst drama grit angst” all day long.
Granted Prometheus isn’t
exactly an angst festival, but you get my point -- and seeing Janek do things
like set up a Christmas tree, play some music, and curl up in a blanket adds
some humanity to the movie. I also like
how Janek goes from A to B and suggests making merry with Vickers. Guess
Heimdall’s gotta keep himself busy somehow since the Bifrost is broken…
--And on the opposite
end of the spectrum, we have Vickers. Even though she’s distinctly cold, I think I
like her character as well (so generally, it’s a toss-up between her and Janek
for my favorite characters in the movie).
She brings an air of professionalism and calculation to the movie…although,
like Janek, she has some humanizing elements here and there that make her a
well-rounded character.
…Okay, bad choice of
words. But you know what I mean. She’s intelligent, self-serving, and -- for
the most part -- keeps a heel atop the situation. I’ve heard the theory that Vickers is
actually an android like David, and I can see why people might think that --
especially because they look kind of similar.
And depending on how you interpret the reveal that she’s Weyland’s daughter,
you could make the argument. There’s
still the implication that she and Janek did the deed, but…well, when has that
ever stopped anyone in fiction?
--Finally, we turn to
David. Even though he’s not my favorite,
David is definitely an interesting character, and deserving of all the praise
heaped upon him (and by extension, the praise for Michael Fassbender’s
performance). His
very existence brings a lot of questions into the movie. You can feel the venom in his voice every time
he talks to the humans that consistently
talk down to him. But moreover, it’s
David of all people that goes through what’s not only my favorite scene, but
what I think is the most important scene in the movie.
David -- who’s going on
orders from a mysterious schemer -- heads into the cavern to investigate. It isn’t long before he finds exactly what
the Prometheus crew is looking for: evidence of the Engineers’ efforts. Taking advantage of their technology, he
activates one of their maps and sees just how advanced they are. And the audience gets two things as a result:
a glimpse of the answers they want, AND a moment of pure wonder and discovery
that, whether you like the movie/franchise or not, very nearly makes the ticket
price worth it.
--And after that…ehhhhhhhhhhhhh…this
is where things start to get dicey. But
seeing as how I’ve already hit the three thousand word count with this, I’ll
leave it here for now. Next time, I’ll
get to the part where -- in my opinion -- things start to take a turn for the
worse.
Have a paper bag ready. This could get a little messy.