Ridley, Ridley, Ridley.
There are some people that reckon you haven’t made a good film since Matchstick
Men, but we all watched you struggle through the likes of Kingdom of Heaven, A
Good Year and Robin Hood, desperately hoping that you’d rediscover your form
and make a film to match up to Blade Runner or, dare I say it, Alien. When news
came through that you were directing what was being described as an Alien
prequel, many of us whooped for joy. In hindsight, perhaps polite applause mixed
with apprehension would have been more appropriate.
The film that was
eventually entitled Prometheus is compelling in parts, but far from perfect,
and a lot of the blame for this can probably be laid at the doors of writers
Jon Spaights (whose only previous screenwriting credit was the space-flop The
Darkest Hour) and Damon Lindelof. Together, they managed to riddle an awful
script with holes more in number and larger in size than the one the xenomorph
made in John Hurt’s chest in 1979 – without giving away any spoilers, anyone
that sat through all six ambitious-but-ultimately-pointless seasons of Lost,
for which Lindelof was a co-showrunner and writer, will know the kind of thing
I mean.
It’s all the more
agonising because there are hints of the film that Prometheus could have
been. The general premise involves Dr Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace), and a clichéd
ragtag team of astronauts/scientists comprised of sarky oddballs played by the
likes of Idris Elba, Rafe Spall and Sean Harris, visiting a far-off moon which
they believe holds some of the answers regarding who created us and where we
came from. Charlize Theron is along for the ride as a representative of the
Weyland Corporation, which is funding the mission, while the film’s ace in the
hole is Michael Fassbender playing android David. With the exception of Rapace
and Fassbender, who plays David in an unnervingly calm and serene way (and if
there’s a better actor working regularly today, I’d like to see him), every
character’s dialogue and general underdevelopment practically scream “tentacle
fodder” – there’s one guy who picks up a gun, is told to put it down by Shaw
and then we never see him again. What was the point of creating him for that
one line? Things, as they often do in space, quickly go wrong and the whole “why
are we here/who created us” question is thrown screaming out of the airlock as
the film devolves into B-movie ridiculousness, albeit stunningly well-made.
That’s one of the things
that Prometheus and Ridley Scott can’t be criticised for – it looks amazing,
with no expense spared on huge soundstages and CGI effects. H.R. Giger’s
original designs are expanded to great effect here by production designer
Arthur Max – you can feel the ambition, but the script cannot match it. Although
it’s asking far too much for Prometheus to actually answer the questions that
humanity has been struggling with since the dawn of time, touches like David
questioning his own creation by humans as they struggle with the idea that
their own creators might not have been all that they thought they were indicate
that the seeds of good ideas were there, but were lost in the mire of
explosions and effects that obscured the last third of the film.
Ambitious but ultimately
hugely flawed, Prometheus is a difficult film to assess. Although it had
flashes of brilliance, its plot holes, weak characters and the fact that it
didn’t seem to know what film it was trying to be detracted from it – it’ll nevertheless
be interesting to see what the inevitable sequel does with the questions left open
at its conclusion.
3/5
