Prometheus weds a
big budget to a high concept. Its
sets are magnificent, its world dazzling.
I saw this film in 3-D, mostly because an old friend of mine was one of
the camera techs, and the effects were more immersive than distracting. Add the casting of proven
performers like Charlize Theron, Idris Elba, Michael Fassbender, and Guy
Pearce, and this looks and feels like elite work. The concept, well, we’re talking about finding the origin of
human life on Earth, and the film’s characters have the kind of existential
questions director Ridley Scott tackled in his classic Blade Runner: “Where do we come from? Why are we here?
Why can’t we have more time?”
While we have mixed feelings about the answers the film provides or
withholds, we have to credit the production with going after them.
Prometheus gets so
many things right that it’s a shame the picture can’t keep our suspension of
disbelief alive. As the audience
in a science fiction movie, we walk in willing to believe in technologies that
defy the known laws of physics. We
can’t, however, believe in people that don’t act like people or in organisms
that can, say, grow without eating.
One of the great things about Ridley Scott’s Alien was that it took things a while to
get going. We go to know the crew
of the Nostromo not by having them
stand up and recite their bios, but just by following them around for a
while. Once we knew them, we cared
about them and believed in their story.
Prometheus gives us an
implausible roll call followed by a mission briefing PowerPoint set after the
ship has reached its destination, and –bang- we’re into the action. We in the audience are left thinking,
“Really? These people are just now
meeting each other for the first time?
Did they not chat while they were loading their stuff aboard back on
Earth? Oh, and how is it possible
that any scientist would sign up for a long, potentially career-derailing,
mission without knowing what’s involved?”
So we’re left with thumbnail sketches: there are Redshirt One, Redshirt Two, Redshirt Three, and
Redshirt Four, plus the actors whom we recognize. Once they’re on Planet Danger, they begin acting in ways
that violate even what little we do know about them: the biologist who signed
up for a space journey freaks out at the prospect of alien life, then actually
tries to pet a scary space-snake.
The geologist runs away from someplace he finds terrifying, only to seek
refuge in the exact same place for no real reason. These examples come right off the top of my head, and the
more I think the more I recall.
How can I believe in the plight of these people if I don’t believe
they’re people? (Note:
Michael Fassbender’s android character is the most consistent and fully
realized of the bunch. It’s
possible that the film’s saying the android is more human than the humans, but
that’s the kind of thing you think of later. While you’re watching the film, you’re thinking, “This
doesn’t make sense.” From there,
it’s a short step to “I call BS.”)
And then there’s the funky biology: creatures in this universe appear to
have the ability to metabolize thin air.
Humans in this universe can undergo massively invasive abdominal
surgery, then run, climb, fight, and singlehandedly rappel fifty feet without
tearing open the wound and bleeding out.
And the list goes on.
And that’s the thing about Prometheus. Those big
ideas? They’re really cool. That art direction? That set, costume, and creature
design? Really really cool. The performances? The world-class cast acts the heck out
of the material, and Michael Fassbender continues his steady march toward Can
Do No Wrong status.
But the writing isn’t there. The characters feel like characters, and the revelations
provide more WTH moments than “Oh, wow!” moments. Prometheus excels
at all the “elite filmmaking” stuff, but it stumbles on the fundamentals. This could have been a great,
fascinating, entertaining and wonderful classic that melded the best of Alien and Blade Runner into a rousing, challenging, enriching whole. Instead, it’s a beautiful failure. I wanted to love Prometheus. I was
ready to love Prometheus. I couldn’t love Prometheus.
