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: Sherlock Holmes: A Game Of Shadows

Certificate: 12A (intense sequences of violence and action, some drug material)
Directed By: Guy Ritchie
Cast: Robert Downey Jr., Jude Law, Jared Harris, Noomi Rapace, Rachel McAdams, Kelly Reilly, Stephen Fry
Budget: $125 million
Runtime: 129 minutes
Trailer: Watch

After the mega success of 2009's Sherlock Holmes it is hardly surprising that Robert Downey Jr and Jude Law should reprise their roles and rekindle their latent bromance. This time round Holmes (Downey Jr) must connect a spate of terrorist attacks which threaten to plunge Europe into war with the well respected Professor Moriarty (Harris) suspected of being behind it all.

The immediate distinction of A Game Of Shadows from the first film is its scope. It is a globe-trotting adventure which takes Holmes from London to Paris to Germany, only to end in Reichenbach Falls - a site familiar to those acquainted with Arthur Conan Doyle's novels. The problem with this however is that its grand ambition causes the plot to lose sight of itself in a way which sacrifices the deductive reasoning for which Holmes is famed. Where the first film was at least coherently intricate enough, here the pieces of the puzzle are clunkily positioned for Holmes to assemble. For all intents and purposes the first film was in many ways 'cleverer' where here everything feels strangely disjointed, which is a little disappointing given the precedence. Likewise the puzzle itself hardly seems befitting of the supreme intellect that Moriarty, "the Napoleon of crime", is said to command in Doyle's novels. Where the original Sherlock Holmes enjoyed playing intellectual tricks on its audience, this is an altogether more straightforward affair.

What director Guy Ritchie has done is try to bring James Bond into nineteenth-century Victorian Britain as action takes priority. A Game Of Shadows features more brawls with assassins and slow-motion action sequences which, while still looking cool, serve to dilute their purpose. Indeed, slow-motion is ostensibly used to illustrate Holmes' powers of perception which was used to great effect in the first outing, but here it is used too unsparingly to the point where it loses meaning. It is literally more, much more, of the same which manifests in a general feeling of lacklustre. The mechanics of sprightly spontaneity which made the original such a success are no longer fresh which consequently casts a shroud of inevitability over events. Indeed, one won't be nearly as enjoyably surprised as before.

A Game Of Shadows is a prime example of overemphasis on style which causes the plot to suffer and undermine the actors' sinew. Noomi Rapace for example is criminally underdeveloped, merely hanging around without adding anything to proceedings. Likewise, there is a tangible sense that Holmes and Watson (Law) are just itching to release their unbridled intellects but are just cut short by another relentless action sequence. While admittedly the first film was also foremost an action film, at least it left room for intellectual pondering. Here Ritchie has sought to blunt that notion which is disappointing ultimately because it is Holmes' cerebral abilities which we celebrate, not his brawn.

This might seem a little harsh on A Game Of Shadows as despite all of this it is still undeniably good fun. This is primarily down to two outstanding performances. Of course, Downey Jr's portrayal of Holmes is once again enjoyable in a manner similar to that of Depp's Jack Sparrow. Eccentric and flamboyant as always, he bears uncanny resemblance to his other anchor role of Tony Stark in Iron Man. However, it would be fair to say that Holmes is ultimately the more toothsome of the two to watch. While both are unmatched geniuses with unrestrained egos, Holmes displays more humanity than Stark which makes him easier to relate to. For all Holmes' brilliance, he is also a much more vividly damaged human being like the rest of us. It is also worth noting Stephen Fry's enjoyable little cameo as Holmes' brother, a high-up official in the British Foreign Office who is unusually nihilistic for one involved in the formalities of diplomacy and high-politics.

Perhaps more deserving of credit however is one Jared Harris who is outstanding in his portrayal of arch-nemesis Professor Moriarty. Harris is no stranger to the role of nutty professor, also having been delectable as evil genius David Robert Jones in TV series Fringe. The best bits of A Game Of Shadows inevitably occur when the two behemoth intellects of Holmes and Moriarty clash, but unfortunately this is not something which happens often enough. If anything Harris, probably the best thing about the film, suffers like many characters here and is disappointingly underused.

Still, despite the flaws this isn't wholly disappointing. It is confident and amusing and this serves well to mask many of its problems. The main problem with A Game Of Shadows though is that it tries to be both beauty and brains. It's incessant insistance on luxuriously choreographed action sequences form tears in the fabric of what Holmes is supposed to be about; his smarts. And as one might deduce, God doesn't give with both hands.