Film Review: Prometheus

Certificate: 15 (sci-fi violence including some intense images, and brief language)
Directed By: Ridley Scott
Cast: Noomi Rapace, Michael Fassbender, Charlize Theron, Logan Marshall-Green, Guy Pearce, Idris Elba
Budget: $130 million
Runtime: 124 minutes
Trailer: Watch

Potential Spoilers

When archeologists discover ancient artefacts featuring the same pictograms they quickly deduce that they are star-maps. Funded by the Weyland Corporation, the vessel Prometheus embarks on a voyage to planet LV-233 in hope of finding answers to mankind's biggest questions, only to soon discover that maybe ignorance was bliss.

Foremost this is a prequel set in 2093 - around 125 years before the events in Alien. In Prometheus Ridley Scott has gone to great lengths in filling the prurient gaps raised in his original 1979 epic, most notably those surrounding the mysterious 'Space Jockey'. Yet while answering one set of questions about the race that have since become known as the 'Engineers', Prometheus probes into grander propositions regarding man's place in the universe. The film begins like an episode of Ancient Aliens, spinning yarns familiar to those who have read Eric von Däniken's cult classic, Chariots of the Gods. Tales of ancient astronauts who created man and guided our development preoccupy the first part of the film, raising philosophical questions over our purpose and the nature of existence. While Scott's familiar, icky, gritty tropes of the Alien franchise do inevitably rear their malevolent heads, Prometheus is very much more concerned in providing dread via its suggestive sagacious denouements. Rather than the toothy xenomorphs and face huggers providing the scares, it is Scott's postulations on the answers to some of our most fundamental questions which provide the real consternation here.

And yet for all the philosophical pondering Prometheus promises to pose, it certainly doesn't feel that Scott remains committed to the more cerebral ideas pledged in the opening. By the final third it would appear these grand themes are eschewed in favour of ramping up the action where questions end up outweighing answers. With Lost writer Damon Lindelof onboard one might not be too surprised that explanations come at a premium, but then again this might also be the point. Lead character Dr Elizabeth Shaw (Rapace), Ripley's spiritual predecessor, also happens to be a woman of faith. It is this faith, particularly in the judeo-christian notion that life is special and unique, which Scott seeks to test in what can only be described as a cacophony of nihilism. If, as Prometheus posits, life can be created in a test-tube, then the idea of 'God's Children' seems to quickly dissipate. This is the main philosophical crux of the film; that if we are to accept that nothing means anything, then what is the point? Indeed, even our questions regarding the order of things become meaningless. But it is here where Shaw's faith might provide the most insightful answers to life, the universe and everything. In spite of the terse inquisition Prometheus uses to assault human existentialism, Shaw curtly explains "It's what I choose to believe". Scott intriguingly suggests that faith is still very much relevant when it comes to understanding the cosmos, even when science has all but disproved any ethereal sentiments. It is this which keeps Shaw going despite what reality has to say otherwise.

As one might be able to tell, Prometheus is far wordier than the original Alien. In many ways, it actually couldn't be further from the dank, claustrophobic corridors of the Nostromo. In general, there isn't the same feeling of foreboding which were hallmarks of the original quadrilogy. Sets here range from spacious to enormous, the Prometheus' pressurised modules well lit while the underground bio-research freak show under the the pyramid/dirt mount structure thingy so cavernous that there's never a sense of anything popping out behind a corner for a cheap thrill. Yes, there is a creative reimagining of that gut-buster scene involving a sexist medi-lab, and Scott certainly flirts with the familiar shock tactics in all their updated twenty-first century glory, but they never define Prometheus in the same way they did Alien. Rather than any sense of crippling fear, Prometheus' tone is actually rather impassive. However, while this fits with the film's themes of nothingness, it does not necessarily make for a good movie. Certainly, there's no sense of urgency in anything the crew do, traveling between the ship and temple mound almost aimlessly. We never quite know what any of them are doing or why, there merely to make up the numbers. The first half of the film establishes how miserable and unsociable everybody is, which instantly says something of their inescapable fate. The potential for interesting characters with contributive dialogue are instead earmarked for castigation, clearly displayed by their B-movie archetypes. We end up caring little for their survival, which is in stark contrast to our feelings toward Ripley and the poor souls on the Nostromo. Thank the 'Engineers' then for David, the one robot who brings any meaning to proceedings.

All this meaning of life stuff previously mentioned is most deftly displayed in Fassbender's supposedly emotionless aryan android. It is he who provides the link between the crew and Prometheus' larger themes, a microcosm of the philosophical battles being waged by his creators with the universe. Draped in egotism worthy of any real boy (or girl), David displays seemingly insignificant human characteristics at first. He narcissistically combs his hair to perfection, later expressing childlike wonder before evolving complex motivations to betray his fellow crew members. Given this, one begins to question whether this unit has a soul. When we glimpse David watching his favourite movie, Lawrence Of Arabia, we see the infamous scene where T.E. Lawrence extinguishes a flame with his fingers, to which he is asked "doesn't it hurt?". He retorts "The trick, William Potter, is not minding it hurts". This one small scene is pivotal. If humans are able to 'switch off' pain as a robot might, then what does this say of David who can do the same? As Holloway (Marshall-Green) ponders man's existence, David asks "why do you think your people made me?". Holloway replies "we made you because we could". David's riposte is cutting. "Can you imagine how disappointing that would be for you to hear the same thing from your creator?". What does this imply for us? Our purpose? Does David's creation not imply that we are the Gods now? The 'supermen' that Nietzsche spoke of?

The main problem with Prometheus is that it never grasps to any intrinsic tenet other than the barrage of overwhelming nihility. And yet while it might be happy to revel in its own parochial cognition, you might walk away having expected something different. Something a bit more base, like Alien or Aliens. When one thinks of Ridley Scott's 1979 original it's usually dark narrow hallways with something covered in ectoplasm waiting to jump out. Prometheus toys with the idea of creepy crawly nasties and tantalisingly teases the audience with them, but Scott holds back. Sure, accusations of cliched usage might have incurred, but in a strange way you kinda miss the xenomorphic lug. And by the end, instead of capitalising on the amount of fear factor at Scott's disposal, or even on its own phrenic allusions, we are instead left with frenetic chaos to satiate the Michael Bay junkies.

Moreover, it is difficult to ascertain whether Prometheus is successful in what it wants to convey. Certainly it does itself no favours by attempting to maintain the middle ground between pleasing philosophical pondering and action spectacle - something which has been the bane of many sci-fi movies. No doubt the primary concern is clearly its 'philosophical horror', and yet while Prometheus certainly raises some interesting quandaries it is perhaps disappointing that it doesn't really attempt to pass its own judgements. I suppose in that way then it might have had the effect it wanted on me as I left the cinema, shrugging my shoulders and merely uttering "meh".

Film Review: Cowboys & Aliens

You can almost picture the boardroom scene. "We need something that will make us millions" a gruff voice and a plume of cigar smoke emanates from a figure in the shadows. "What about aliens? They're big at the moment. We could cash in on the bandwagon" pipes up a fresh faced exec. "Something a bit more original. We need a hook, not another generic film about little green men invading the Earth" replies the man, taking another puff from his cigar as a glint of light catches his silver hair. "Cowboys! It's a classic concept and about time the genre was rejuvenated" contributes a more experienced producer. There's a pause. A hush descends over the boardroom. "I've got it! what if we combined cowboys and aliens?!". And so a film was born.

Set in Arizona, 1873, a man (Craig) suffering amnesia is found by a group of bandits in the middle of the desert with a strange bangle attached to his wrist. Heading for the nearest town of Absolution in search for answers to his identity, he soon discovers he is wanted criminal Jake Lonergan and was abducted like many other townsfolk by what they refer to as 'demons'. When the powerful local cattle rancher Woodrow Dolarhyde's (Ford) son is also taken, he and Lonergan set out to liberate the prisoners from the clutches of strange creatures.

Of course, Cowboys & Aliens is a bizarre concept which really shouldn't work. It sounds like an incredibly silly idea that would be instantly shot down in the Dragon's Den. But this wasn't born from a meeting of Hollywood producers who were all baked at the time. Cowboys & Aliens is actually based on a graphic novel created by Scott Mitchell Rosenberg supported by some very powerful backers in the movie industry. Directed by Jon Favreau with a screenplay written by Alex Kurtzman, Roberto Orci and Damon Lindelof (the geniuses behind the likes of Lost and the rebooted Star Trek franchise), as well as Steven Spielberg being one of the executive producers, you begin to get a sense of how seriously this idea was taken. And that's to say nothing of the Hollywood heavy-hitters Daniel Craig and Indiana Jones himself, Harrison Ford, jumping on board the project.

Admittedly the graphic novel had an altogether more serious and political tone than the film on which it is loosely based. The general idea is the same - an alien scout party arrives on Earth to mine gold, but where the film deviates is from the novel's not so subtle allegory of the white man's conquest and plundering of the Americas. Like whitey, the aliens are there to pillage the West in much the same way European colonists did to the Native American's homeland. The novel was wrapped in ethics like no man's business, pitting ray guns against rifles in much the same fashion white devils set rifle against bow and arrow. Of course, being reminded of their ancestor's genocidal past wouldn't sit so well with American audiences and so the story has sanitised the stark metaphors of the novel, instead exhibiting a much softer tone as team Earth unite under one banner. Cowboys and Injuns work together to fight off alien intruders making for a new moral re-imagining in that perhaps we're not so different after all.

Where its politics have been whitewashed, the rest of Cowboys & Aliens is actually refreshingly unsterilised. The lead character smokes (a big no-no in Hollywood these days) and the whole affair remains surprisingly more gritty than its title suggests. People get sliced open, stabbed, skewered and eviscerated into ash as blood n' guts litter proceedings. Characters aren't much cheerier either, both Craig and Ford ashen souls bereft by loss. In fact, everyone's just a bit grim, and they're all in an even grimmer situation where light relief is hard to come by. However, this plays to the film's main strength - its emphasis on traditional Western tropes. These were indeed harsh times and that is reflected here in the film's hard edge. Cowboys & Aliens exceeds most where it plays like a traditional Western. Like all good Westerns, it starts with a stranger riding into town and features the obligatory saloon fight while outlaws roam the desolate desert. This acts to reinforce that yes, this film does have aliens, but they're also part of a very real world. It actually sticks far closer to the wild west than it does to science fiction which is only a good thing. Had it deviated toward the later then this could very well have ended up like another Wild Wild West.

Indeed, the film's weakest point is its unimaginative bug-eyed lizards from outer space. More and more these days aliens seem to look like something more supernatural than other-worldly. Often hulking beasts with a primitive urge for violence (see Skyline, Super 8), aliens in Hollywood have been reduced to your pesky intergalactic-neighbourhood dicks like unwelcome racoons sifting through your rubbish bin who kidnap and kill humans indiscriminately. The ETs here for example take to abducting people, as the film explains, for the purpose of ascertaining human weaknesses. Rather than this showcasing any form of intelligence, you actually wonder how many people they need to spirit away for beam weaponry testing before they've found the optimum way of killing a human being. Oh, these aliens can build spaceships bigger than a canyon no doubt, but they display such limited signs of intelligence that they're more like avatars you shoot at in a videogame.

But it's difficult to take anything away from the fantastic performances as acting is of a high standard all round. Craig is your typical man of few words alone in the wilderness while Ford scowls and growls as per usual. Both are grumpy bastards who do their best to out-grump each other, their interaction primarily consisting of one epic grump-off in an effort to find who is the surliest of all cowboys. Olivia Wilde's ethereal cowgirl is relatively innocuous disappointingly, but she does a good job providing the eye candy. Given the title's suggestion of an overuse of special effects it's actually pleasantly surprising to see just how seriously the cast take everything rather than merely standing around waiting for explosions to happen. Indeed, there's a gratifying amount of time spent on character development where everyone is given satisfying depth. What's more however is how straight faced they play their roles, but then they needed to. Had there been any campness or folly involved then Cowboys & Aliens would have been sucked into a black hole of fail.

For a film that is suspect given its M.O. to pull in as much cash as possible, Cowboys & Aliens is actually a half-decent effort. Its lean plot, while linear, is coherent enough and minus the aliens, this could have been a good Western in its own right. Indeed, it is by far the most pulling element, there being more tension when Dolarhyde's son bullies the town than when aliens begin strafing it. The cowboys are good, the aliens not so much, but this is fun in places. Perhaps the only disappointment being that it's not quite the cult classic one might have hoped for.