By Bob Clark
When pioneering sci-fi author Ray Bradbury passed away this week, there were plenty of places for the mind to turn to, reeling in the news of a great mind departing from the Earth. There were of course the numerous literary works he’d penned over the course of his decades long career as one of the most popular and thoughtful genre authors of the 20th century, and one whose influences can still be traced crystal clear through all manner of short-stories and novels. Additionally, one could think to the number of adaptations his work received over the years, from television miniseries like The Martian Chronicles or the fever-pitch crossroads of French New Wave and Hitchcockian dystopia in Francois Truffaut’s film of Fahrenheit 451, no doubt the author’s signature piece (influential enough for it to turn into a mere punchline of a title in Michael Moore’s 9/11 documentary). Beyond that, there were the years of interviews and commentary he provided on the nature of science-fiction, particularly when it came to the ways in which he resisted franchising some of his most popular works. One of the earliest items of interest I’d read about him, as a child, was that while he very often enjoyed original science-fiction films, he often despaired when the filmmakers turned to the same premise for a sequel, even when the resulting product turned out to be something as universally respected (within the genre community, at least) as The Empire Strikes Back. And as much as I’ve enjoyed the series of films represented by that sequel– one of the rare efforts to join the “better than the original” club of classics in many critics’ eyes– I have to admit that I’ve always rather agreed with him.
After all, just as THX 1138 led to the original Star Wars in George Lucas’ career, wouldn’t it have been something to have seen what might’ve followed in the path from that blockbuster-of-blockbusters, rather than just the next episode in the series? I’ve certainly held myself to little or no restraint when it comes to admiring that series, of course, and especially the much-criticized Prequel Trilogy, but at the same time I can’t deny that in dedicating his creative efforts and resources to franchising his saga, that Lucas may have very well cut short an even greater span and range of cinematic works. It’s something I wonder about when looking at Ridley Scott’s second and third features, especially considering that both of Lucas’ sci-fi features up to then had motivated the British director to consider the genre in the first place. Both staunchly works of hard-core (if not expressly “hard”) science-fiction, yet each of them miles apart from one another in theme and tone (farther apart, in some respects, than THX 1138 and Star Wars), the films Alien and Blade Runner have long since become two of the most beloved and respected contributions to the genre, as well as cinematic classics of any stripe. Once word of a sequel to the initial film went underway, it would’ve been very easy indeed for Scott to have joined that bandwagon and allow both himself and the series to repeat themselves for another exercise in bio-horror stalking in the dark (had he stayed on, it’s unlikely we would’ve gotten anything remotely resembling James Cameron’s appropriation of Heinlein-isms for Aliens, another arguable member of the “better than the first” club), but he had moved on to things both bigger and bolder (the teasing promise of the abortive Dune adaptation, and the eventual greatness of his tackling Phillip K. Dick) and smaller and weaker (basically everything up until Gladiator, with Thelma & Louise thrown in if you want to be charitable). In that sense, perhaps it’s smarter to stick with a franchise, or at the very least a genre, when you’ve got something good going, but at least he attempted something different, for better and worse alike. Or at least that’s what he’s attempted all this long until this week’s addition to his filmography, Prometheus.
In truth, Scott has long discussed the possibility of his return to the Alien franchise, and were it not for the way that the series painted itself into a corner with David Fincher’s underrated Alien 3, we might’ve seen this return a fair deal sooner than 2012. That film saw fit to make good on the fatalism running throughout the series and offer the stand-out heroine Ellen Ripley a true martyr’s death, sacrificing herself to keep the unstoppable xenomorph life-form out of the hands of the diabolical Weyland-Yutani corporation, guaranteeing both the safety of the human race and a sense of crushing emotional closure to the franchise as a whole. But being the product of the modern studio system, it only turned out to be only a few years until an eventual sequel was put to film in the form of Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Alien Resurrection, whose Joss Whedon-penned script saw fit to cheapen the sacrifices of the previous films by simply cloning Ripley and jettisoning all of the corporate villains and replacing them with a lame collection of stock government stooges and space-pirate action-figure archetypes that feel less like a holistic whole of the Alien series and more a dress rehearsal for the space-western of Firefly. Following that disappointment (whose biggest contribution to cinema remains how it helped bankroll Jeunet’s palate-cleansing follow-up of Amelie) it barely seemed that disrespectful to the franchise to see it combined with a couple of fondly remembered sci-fi action romps from the 80′s in the shape of the Aliens Vs. Predators movies– in fact, one could even grade them higher than Alien Resurrection if one were willing to chart a bell curve wide and generous enough.
And yet, every now and then for the past decade or so, there have been teasing hints and rumors of Ridley Scott’s intent to return to the Alien series, usually revolving around his desire to explore the world that the xenomorphs themselves came from originally, as well as flesh out the barely glimpsed alien figures of the Space Jockeys from the derelict space-craft where the ravenous life forms were found in the first feature. But growing dissatisfaction with how the series had degenerated and been tramped out into a mere blockbuster crossover amongst fans, critics and even the cast and crew made the possibility of a sequel increasingly unlikely– were it not for the comic-book inspired fantasies of Aliens Vs. Predator, we might’ve eventually seen a Cameron-scripted and Scott-directed return of the cloned-heroine Ripley to the homeworld of the xenomorphs and the Space Jockeys, and perhaps seen the grisly series brought to a mature and satisfying conclusion that even the studio bean-counters couldn’t have wriggled their way around. But with series mainstay Sigourney Weaver dropping out after seeing the franchise she’d helped built, and been nominated for an Academy Award as best actress no less, milked into a connection with an Arnold Schwarzenegger shoot-em-up, all the talk of continuing the franchise turned dead. At least that was until somebody hatched upon the fine idea of turning the series in the opposite direction and following the example of so many blockbuster franchises into Prequel territory. Granted, between Scott and co-writer Damon Lindelof (by now nearly as beloved and reviled among the fanboy cognoscenti as Lucas ever was, for the ups and downs that Lost took in its six-seasons on the air) and all their denials that this feature was to be straightly connected to the preceding Alien films in all but the broadest of ways, one might’ve been forgiven for thinking that Prometheus was actually to be an original work entirely, and a return by the director merely to the genre where he had sired his proudest cinematic achievements, if not the same continuities.
But that illusion of complete originality disappears not long after the film begins (it would’ve vanished without a trace for anyone paying even a moderate amount of attention to the movie’s marketing campaign, which all but named Weyland-Yutani as one of 20th Century Fox’s corporate sponsors). Indeed, even if one discounts the connections the film has to the previous entries of the Alien cycle, the bare bones of the story we’re given certainly don’t count for any drastic innovations as far as science-fiction narratives go. Following a crew of scientists who trace a series of identical star-map cave paintings around the world to a planet far from Earth that may hold the answers to where humanity sprang from, but turns out to merely pose more questions and offer nothing short of planet-wide doom, the basic narrative of Prometheus has an unsettlingly familiar feel to it for the ways in which it follows in the footsteps of seemingly countless like-minded stories ancient astronauts and the origins of mankind springing from the stars on film and television of the past twenty-odd years. We’ve seen this kind of Chariots of the Gods premise and quest capitalized upon before for Stargate and its television offspring, for The X-Files and its elaborate alien mythologies, for Brian De Palma’s Mission to Mars and even that last Indiana Jones movie everybody kept complaining about. We’ve seen half-baked documentaries on television speculating upon extra-terrestrial influences upon ancient civilizations as far back as the Egyptians and the Mayans– in fact, we’ve even seen these kinds of theories in Aliens Vs. Predators itself, complete with frozen pyramids buried underneath one of the poles (don’t ask me to remember if it was North or South, please). And it certainly doesn’t help that the questions are done so in an increasingly shallow, teasing way– they spend more time talking about how important it is to ask important questions than they do actually elaborating the philosophical musings such topics represent, making it all feel a bit like listening to precocious college kids patting themselves on the back for how clever they think they are.
More to the point, these questions have long been a part of science-fiction literature and science fiction, to the point that it’s almost quaint to see such a self-conscious emphasis on them through what might just as well be another high-concept monster movie. Scott pays homage to Kubrick’s seminal collaboration with Arthur C. Clarke’s 2001 early on, and offers a piece of genre surrealism so evocative and suggestive in meaning that it ought well stand beside the first glimpses of the monolith onscreen as some of the best realized feats of movie fantasy, if only it weren’t for the rest of the horror-conventions dragging the rest of the film down, amongst other things. Even those horror formula aren’t nearly as revolutionary as they could be, considering the lengths to which Scott revitalized the genre in the original film, and especially considering the ties that feature and this one share to the canon of Lovecraft and the whole genre of awe-inspiring existential dread that followed in his wake (indeed, if one is to believe what Guillermo Del Toro has said, the production of Prometheus may very well prevent the making of his long-planned At the Mountains of Madness for the similarities the Scott film has to that primordial piece of ancient-astronaut literature). Even anime creators like Hideaki Anno and Chiaki J. Kanaka have taken inspiration and woven allusions to Kubrick, Clarke and Lovecraft in their work (Kanaka has written his own stories in the “Cthullu Mythos”, himself), making the use of these themes one that has already been well capitalized on an international and cross-media disciplinary scale as well. As such, for all the talk there’s been in recent days of Scott’s supposedly revolutionary take on the genre and material, there’s no end of the usual prequel-related hype and expectation that Prometheus has to live up to, and a question of its own to answer, on both ends– is it a game-changing work of existential science-fiction, or a crowd-scaring horror blockbuster like all the other Alien flicks?
The answer is almost inevitably both and neither. To be fair, a lion’s share of what’s wrong with the film owes more to the very connection it has to a pre-existing franchise, and to its attempt to build a new one off its back at the same time. Scott is indeed attempting to create something more or less new inside the same creative world as the Alien films, and that’s not such a bad notion as that series was for a time a golden example of a franchise that was big enough to contain all kinds of creative forces and permutations, resulting in completed films that were as unlike from one another as one can imagine. But there’s so little of the essential germs of what made the Alien films what they were in this movie, yet at the same time an overabundance of aesthetic details from the increasing periphery of the first effort, that there seems little point in connecting the story to the franchise at all. Yes, there’s no end of time spent looking at the Space Jockeys and their bone-shaped craft, reliably invigorating interpretations of the usual body-horror spectacles (including a stand-out medical set-piece that, were it in a slightly stronger film, would no doubt go down as one of the new classic moments in modern scares– then again it probably will anyway), and thankfully all of the ripe anti-corporate themes that helped make the original trilogy of films such an impressive feat in the studio system. But nearly all of these elements and themes could have easily been put into a genuinely original storyline and aesthetic formula without having to connect-the-dots to the more obscure elements of the series, while more or less avoiding much of the most definitive iconography. Granted, there’s nods to all the Alien films throughout, but only teases to the actual xenomorphs themselves, the kind that seem to be there only to hook audiences in to an eventual sequel. The same’s more or less true of the answers that the crew go out searching for– yes, when dealing with Clarke/Lovecraftian themes of unknowable, unfathomable alien/elder gods out in the cosmos there’s bound to be a certain amount of uncertainty, but the degree to which questions are raised and then seemingly forgotten throughout the film feels less like artful ambiguity and more like your typical long-form narrative table setting.
It’s this sort of loose-end storytelling one might come to expect from Damon Lindelof, if not from Ridley Scott. As the co-creator and showrunner of Lost, there were no end of unanswered questions he saw fit to raise and then summarily dismiss without addressing before that series’ end, and as such Prometheus feels less like a fully-fleshed out feature of its own and more of an elaborately, expensively produced pilot episode screened in theaters. One might expect that most if not all of the open ends he leaves in the film could be filled in within the audiences’ mind by the already existing Alien films, seeing how the story here is tailor made to fit their mysterious backstory, but those films never really needed to have that backstory filled out in the first place to keep interest alive and far from flagging. It’s curious especially to consider how in this film Lindelof has committed many of the same creative sins that he admonished George Lucas for in The Phantom Menace and its succeeding films– Prometheus fails to have anything remotely like an effective stand-alone story as it busies itself about laying groundwork for future sequels, all while tying itself into knots with references to the original Alien films so remote and obscure one is almost obliged to have watched the DVD’s the night before in a marathon run just to pick up on who’s playing an android before white blood actually spills. With only a handful of exceptions the cast assembled is merely a bunch of overwritten cannon-fodder for the bio-mechanical nastiness that awaits them, and the rate at which most of them spout of lame dialogue in strained attempts to create performances make one long for the long, silent stretches of Scott’s original (or even the sketchily drawn roughnecks of Cameron’s venture, or the wonderful collection of authentic sounding British accents of Fincher’s).
As such, for a film that occupies an increasingly disillusioning franchise fence-sitting position and fails to provide any real sense of narrative, dramatic or thematic closure, is it a complete failure in and of itself and a waste of time, in general? Not quite. Because this is a Ridley Scott movie we’re talking about, and at the very least that allows some very captivating eye-candy, if nothing less. One wonders if the film might open itself a bit more once the seemingly inevitable director’s cut is made available, as at two hours the whole experience feels increasingly telescoped and rushed, which only compounds the larger problems of the making of a film that’s both dependent upon a pre-existing series of films it’s trying to distance itself from, and a series of films that haven’t yet been made. Though much of the movie amounts to merely revisiting the same locations of the first film with more light and time to spend luxuriating in the Giger-inspired sets, there’s a genuine visual feast to be found both in the recycled locations and from the new ones throughout, as Scott puts new spins on all the old ideas of a lived-in working and living environment for blue-collar astronauts to cruise through space in. Scott especially puts color to wondrous use in visualizing all manner of holographic projections throughout, showcasing a dexterity with digital effects that stands up to any of the stand-out physical model work from Alien or the masterpiece of Douglas Trumbull’s work on Blade Runner.
And at key moments, like the wordless, evocative opening or the harrowing medical set-piece about midway, the film absolutely comes alive in a way that only seems possible at the edge of space in a place where all life seems to be just inches away from ending in a bloody, painful mess. This might not be the best sci-fi film Ridley Scott has ever made, or the best sequel he’s ever made (Hannibal beats it for the Vita Nuova-inspired aria alone), or even the best of either that he’ll ever get a chance to make should sequels to this feature or Blade Runner ever get off the ground (and yes, he’s been talking about doing a sequel to that film for decades, too, for whatever that’s worth). But may stand as one of his better films, and it marks a return for him to the territory that he made his best work in, however many decades ago that was, and for all its faults it is undoubtedly a visually impressive tapestry. It’s nowhere near better than the original, or even as good, but at least it’s better than the last 15 years’ worth of Alien films.
“when looking at Ridley Scott’s second and third features, especially considering that both of Lucas’ sci-fi features up to then had motivated the British director to consider the genre in the first place.”
Can you back this comment up with any proof or legitimate source??? Scott can’t be any more repetitive with his acknowledgment that Kubrick’s 2001 was the film that actually motivated him to try the genre. I have never heard him mention Lucas before in any interview I have read. In fact in 2007 during the Venice Film Festival (which screened Blade Runner) he was quoted calling 2001 “the best of the best” and after that 1968 movie came out that “There’s nothing original. We’ve seen it all before. Been there. Done it,”
I don’t doubt that Scott’s producers and studio (before Alien and Blade Runner were released) were hoping to cash in on the SW craze, but Scott never approached either picture remotely like Lucas’. Clearly his source of artistic inspiration was Stanley Kubrick. Just by watching the films this seems to be clear enough to any viewer. Alien/Blade Runner are polar opposites to the more innocent and childlike (also ideologically primitive) Star Wars in every aspect. I think George Lucas’ influence is negligible at best when approaching Ridley Scott’s science fiction work. Maybe you can provide a concrete article where he says exactly what you echo above with your comment, and thus prove me wrong.
It seems obvious to any rational person that Kubrick is actually the true motivation behind Blade Runner (a no-doubter) and Alien (along with even older 50′s genre examples). Just because someone happens to be your favorite director doesn’t mean you should give him the lion’s share of credit fraudulently.
If he doesn’t mention Lucas in every review he flaggelates himself in the evening, Maurizio. Or makes himself watch something by that hack Hitchcock, dreaming of ewoks all the way through. I’d call it a joke, but it’s way beyond joke, it’s in a galaxy far, far beyond a joke.
Ewoks, again? Really? You’ve got to update your repertoire from 1983.
You’ve got to get your head out of Lucas’ butthole. It’s embarrassing. You are the cinematic equivalent of the Flat Earth Society. Despite being shot down by everyone sensible in either hemisphere, you still press on regardless.
Fish, none of us here really count as “sensible people”, when you get right down to it. But yes, I’ll still press on, regardless. Rather like the sound of that, actually.
All we want is just a stop to the ridiculous mentioning of George Lucas in every single piece you do when it’s irrelevant. We all have our junky geeks films and shows. I enjoy Doctor Who and Buffy, but I don’t reference them in every piece I write. It’s absurd.
Yeah, except it’s relevant here. Same as last week, especially given the exceedingly light comparison that was being made. Again, when you’re primarily writing about sci-fi, fantasy or even anime from the past 30 odd years, it’s a natural point of consideration.
Mauriz, Scott has often mentioned how seeing the original “Star Wars” in 1977 made him more open to considering sci-fi projects after doing “The Duelists”, when I believe his initial plans were to try and make more period projects, specifically a film of Tristan and Isolde. He also mentioned “THX 1138″ in interviews around then, as well, and the fact that he was even aware of that movie’s existence back then says something. No doubt that Kubrick’s film was a motivator too, but without those two immediate flicks, he might’ve just as easily passed on the “Alien” script. At any rate, they’re in the “Ridley Scott: Interviews”.
Remember, Ridley’s primarily a visual filmmaker, so considering the maturity level of any given work isn’t going to measure much in its influence (this is the same guy who made “Legend” after all). If one were to really try and plumb the cinematic influences on the finished visual content of the films, I doubt that Kubrick or Lucas would have terribly much in common with his stuff frankly. Scott’s vision is more gothic, more noir-enriched than either of those directors. I can see bits of “Solaris” in “Alien”, but for the most part I mainly see Gustave Dore.
Bob doesn’t like anything else Allan. He’s a great writer but severely narrow minded when it comes to taste in cinema/art. He references Lucas all the time because thats all he’s got other than Anime and the odd 4 hour western it seems. I personally don’t have a problem with that kind of rigid nicheness as long as it’s truthful (though his opinion on anything outside these few areas of film are taken with a grain of salt). I just took issue with him seemingly lying about the importance of SW in relation to Ridley Scott. The evidence I’ve uncovered points mainly for Kubrick (who Scott name checks in every interview when talking about science fiction). Cannon seems to be backing Bob up below to some extent. Perhaps they prove me wrong at some point… though whatever credit Lucas gets is still lesser than Kubrick, who obviously attains more lip service from Sir Ridley overall.
I’ll leave it to Cannon to quote Ridley’s foreward from the ESB book, but it’s certainly there. There’s also the book I mentioned above from University of Mississippi Press (which I ought to get some day) and any number of times I’ve read and seen him mention the fioms in other interviews, in print and video. As for the narrow range of subjects I cover– that’s just the niche I choose to cover on the site, for the most part. Everybody else can wax redundant about the classics or modern mainstream art-house fare.
I will be seeing Prometheus later this week. It certainly seems to be getting mixed reviews from fans and critics. You yourself have some clear reservations and misgivings. I place myself in the camp that Scott should of just chucked out any Alien related connection and made a completely separate genre work. It seems that the tenuous relationship to Alien that Prometheus supposedly held (during pre-release talk) is quite false and the franchise is intricately woven into the fabric of the film. For me that seems like a shame. Other than the first film by Scott, I have never liked the rest in the series.
I wish that Scott had made a completely original sci-fi film too, but the real problem is that it’s so indebted to a hypothetical series of sequels to answer the stuff it raises. As for the “Alien” series as a whole– Cameron’s effort certainly isn’t as streamlined or efficient, but it’s easily the very best movie in his entire career (except maybe… “The Abyss”, if I’m in the mood for it, and I seldom am), and Fincher’s is a great downbeat capper, no matter how the studio interfered with it. The rest are shit, obviously, but whatever. And truth be told, the sad fact is that Scott probably wouldn’t have been able to make “Prometheus” without the connection to “Alien” in the first place.
“I wish that Scott had made a completely original sci-fi film too”
This basically says it all Bob. I don’t even want a Blade Runner sequel. I rather he tackle something unrelated if dipping his toe back into sci-fi. Revisiting past glories from 30-35 years back seems very redundant at this point.
He had developed something based on the book “The Forever War” for a while, and apparently that’s dropped out. I’d be happy to see a new film based on Dick’s “Do Androids Dream?” novel, as there’s enough material to create an entirely different, disconnected movie without retreading the same material as “Blade Runner”, but I’m betting that won’t be the case. It’s just so odd to look back at the “Future Noir” book and see– yes, he really has been thinking about doing a sequel to that one for twenty damn years or more. Maybe it’s just that these films are popular and respected enough to merit it?
Again, give me something original.
I will certainly read this piece over the weekend, as I am leaving the house in a matter of ten minutes to see this film with my three boys.
Bob,
I had noticed references to the Alien series from the previews and I almost wondered whether this was supposed to be a prequel or long after sequel or something along those lines. I’m not surprised that Ridley Scott is trying to capitalize upon that series. I am a BIG fan of the original Alien film and of course of Blade Runner. However I’ve never really felt that Alien had all that much really to do with the ins and outs of sci-fi as much as it was a slasher film set in space. It has all the hallmarks of a slasher film, but done far better than most and is basically using the Alien instead of the serial killer. Don’t get me wrong, it clearly falls into sci-fi, but only by association. The films that followed in the series became more sci-fi one could say than the original.
“After all, just as THX 1138 led to the original Star Wars in George Lucas’ career, wouldn’t it have been something to have seen what might’ve followed in the path from that blockbuster-of-blockbusters, rather than just the next episode in the series? I’ve certainly held myself to little or no restraint when it comes to admiring that series, of course, and especially the much-criticized Prequel Trilogy, but at the same time I can’t deny that in dedicating his creative efforts and resources to franchising his saga, that Lucas may have very well cut short an even greater span and range of cinematic works.”
Isn’t a consensus that Lucas has never really been that interested in directing? I mean outside of his 70′s output, he was more interested in other facets of the film industry. Are you saying he would have potentially funded someone else’s work or pursued his own directing of films? I’m doubting his ability to have directed anything more cinematic than his homages to Samurai-Westerns set in space. THX 1138 is an anomaly in his career as far as furthering sci-fi or cinema in general.
Let me just clarify, I love Star Wars. I grew up with it and it was right in my wheelhouse. I’m just wondering whether Lucas was capable of more than that. I’m not so sure.
On “Alien”– there’s so much that I love in the original that makes it more than a “slasher movie in space”. I mean, it is kinda that at points, but everything else helps it rise above. Scott does a great job of illustrating the life-cycle of the creature and its biology on strict show-vs-tell storytelling, something that isn’t as present here in Lindelof’s expository script. It also a great blue-collar procedural out in space, following these roughneck characters step by step as they do their very dangerous jobs for a company that cares little for their safety, left to worry with their jobs and lives on the line. In a sense, it’s just as much “Wages of Fear” in space. It’s part of what makes the anti-corporate theme so palpable, seeing it from the bottom-up perspective of guys just trying to get their Union dues. Granted, the later films definitely picked up on these things and furthered them (“Aliens” especially, with the 80′s perfect yuppie scum baddie contrasting with the cannon-fodder space marines).
As for Lucas– I don’t think that he’d have been much of a mainstream director, were it not for “Star Wars”, but he might’ve ventured further into the avant-garde direction he started out in. Bear in mind that one of the projects he started out and gave up on was “Apocalypse Now”, which eventually evolved into a very different kind of surreal beast (for the better– it’s my absolute favorite Coppola). Granted, I think that there’s a lot of art-film-isms present throughout the SW cycle, but there are times I do prefer THX. At any rate, it was the nightmare production of ANH that burned him off of directing for a long time, so had it not been for that, who knows what he would’ve done?
The main point is– I like that Scott didn’t just follow the same franchise for years and years, and did new stuff instead. Granted, most of that new stuff was mediocre at best, but you never know.
I can see how one could find more in “Alien”. I think I view it more as a slasher/thriller film than anything else, but maybe that’s just me. It’s a fine film though a close second to Blade Runner in Scott’s output.
It may not be the deepest of Scott’s films from an immediate level, but there’s a structural and aesthetic balance to it that’s borderline perfect. That puts it far and above anything else that falls into the slasher category, though a thriller is nothing to slouch at.
Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away, in a Hollywood that still knew the meaning of the word verisimilitude, George Lucas made a little film about recognizable, anatomically correct homo sapiens called ‘American Graffiti’: no Ewoks, no Wookies, no Darth Vaders, just a bunch of deliriously happy, goofy teenagers, most of them celebrating the end of adolescence and its inanities on the night streets of car-crazy, small-town American. It’s still Lucas’ best film, IMHO. And it even had Harrison Ford!
Nah, I’ll take THX over that one, by far. A great piece of mature, abstract sci-fi and artful cinema alike. AG is a nice little mainstream character piece, and has some great sound design and night cinematography, but other than that it’s nothing tremendously special.
@Maurizio:
Look up the forward by Ridley Scott for ‘The Making of Star Wars: The
Empire Strikes Back’.
Jumping to the main topic, my first question is this: Why is this a horror film? …Why did it need to be a horror film, to the extent that it was? Prometheus felt like a movie that was trying to escape itself. If the Xenomorphs of the Alien franchise are but a mere (by)product of a larger, mythic story-scape, as has been the general selling pitch by the filmmakers, then why did they even bother saddling this movie with the shock infested, 10-little-Indian tropes? Chunks of the film are tediously spent on the ever-so usual setup and dispatching of spaceship personnel. Why?
I understand the writers not wanting to completely divorce themselves from the Alien franchise, nor am I suggesting that this film should have been a pure whimsy space adventure akin to Star Trek. Certainly, there is a kind of hypnotic, futuristic, deep space gloom from the 1979 original that is best and rightly maintained here with this prequel once removed; the idea and overall atmosphere that this universe holds more than one kind of cosmic horror; that a planetary quest for life’s most profound answers is not without inherent, unforeseen dangers – be they elemental, organic, technological or super sentient – that may lead to one’s terrifying and untimely demise.
Yes, Prometheus needs to carry a genuine fear of the unknown in equal measure to awe and wonder. And it does…until it soon goes too far, forcing the actual scene-by-scene narrative away from a grander and more focused exploration of themes in order to fill the same old monster movie quota. That is this film’s single biggest flaw, in my opinion, from which all its other, smaller flaws seem to extend: haphazard characters, bad (sometimes unintelligible) dialogue, serious continuity issues and at least two noisy action/gore sequences that eat up running time without actually serving the story. There’s a lot going on here that doesn’t serve the story, and yet the story itself is so inspired; again, the film as a whole, visually, cinematically, striving to break free the chains of the aforementioned generics.
The opening sequence to Prometheus, from the first image to the eloquent title reveal, is worth the price of admission. I was truly spellbound. The subsequent audiovisual canvas of the film is so powerful and so well-crafted that it’s practically at ends with the goddam screenplay; the two battling it out for storytelling supremacy. Ridley Scott keeps this thing afloat, a cinematic life preserver if there ever was one. His visual, art-directorial exploration of the space jockey/derelict ship myth established over thirty years ago definitely lived up to my expectations. His return to the realm of biomechanoidia left me wishing that he had never broken from it to begin with. These two aspects combined gives the story’s potential a kind of entity all its own, elevated above the meandering (human) character threads and the verbally scripted bullshit. Fassbender’s David absorbing a Lean epic, infiltrating cryo-dreams and standing center a holographic star chart (pictured above, treasuring an Earth globe in the palms of his hands) reminds me of all that this movie could have been, and still can be, provided a better written sequel, or sidequel, what-have-you.
When the dialogue stops and visuals take over is when the movie finds its footing. I like how spinning red laser probes are employed to spatially design scene-setting layouts, or how audiences are treated to a glowing green, particlized holographic recording of the Engineers and their doings. It literally puts the story up there, on the screen. It creates an immersive world. And then there is just the sheer scale of it all. The images of Prometheus flying through LV-233’s swirling cloud vortex or micronized over its topography are as potent to me as anything from the original Alien, Blade Runner or even Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. Scott has the eye, the senses, no doubt. He also expresses a more hopeful vision for this film, though never at the expense of its darker qualities.
Elizabeth Shaw (a serviceable Rapace) is driven by a belief in something greater than the sum of all parts, and though eventually sobered by the reality of immediate, horrific circumstances, by the film’s end she perseveres to find what she came for. Likewise, David commits nefarious deeds yet somehow never seems to be the point of their origin; instead, he is but a creation of a very flawed humanity who is merely playing his part on the grandest of all stages. His nature is not that of evil, but of pure innocence; differences which prove intriguingly similar. These two characters parallel a larger tone of the film that yearns for the brighter side of science, philosophy and truth; a yearning made clear by composer Marc Streitenfeld’s reoccurring theme of discovery that is, in fact, more reminiscent of the original Star Trek films or even Richard Donner’s Superman, and which marks the first time in this now extended franchise where the music has been given a shot of optimism that isn’t exclusive to Ellen Ripley surviving last minute before closing credits. I like that. It’s a new and proper tonal dynamic to this larger mythology.
In summary, I like the bigger story of the film. I’m fascinated by its themes and big ideas, and was mesmerized by Scott’s cinematic delivery. The plot and scripted narrative, however, fails, or at least falls prey to blatant mediocrity, which is perhaps even worse. And for all its profound pondering, nothing is ever really concluded in any way that gives this entry standalone value. Hell, even Kingdom of the Crystal Skull was more thematically clear and made a finer cosmic point as to why aliens bothered with our little blue world …a chest-bursted John Hurt getting the last laugh after all. So I guess I’m half ‘n’ half with this one, for the time being. Allowing my thoughts some time to evolve before watching the inevitable director’s cut on home video might give me a more solid verdict on this film. Still, as a theatrical experience, I was far more engaged than I was with anything from Nolan or last month’s The Avengers. I certainly don’t think this movie is a stain on, or embarrassment to, the original Alien. It’s good enough to serve as an interesting, off-shoot predecessor.
Yeah, the horror stuff definitely doesn’t work this time around, at least not in the Lovecraftian way that it did in the original, where you could actually be emotionally connected to the one-by-one crew being picked off. It may be a side effect from how Lindelof overwrites his characters’ dialogue rather than putting his focus ont he actual story, but most of the victims here are rendered as off-putting and annoyingly gregarious or just placeholders who you barely even pay attention to enough to notice them die (that older Scottish chick, for instance– how’d she bite it, exactly?). It’s especially sad as the franchise had grown beyond the slasher mechanics of the first film with “Aliens” at least, and didn’t use them as a crutch too much for “Alien 3″.
But yes, as a theatrical experience, it’s second to none of all the year’s blockbuster fare so far. And certainly better than the overrated likes of “The Avengers” and “John Carter”. Hopefully it’ll lead to interesting things.
I can’t find it Cannon. Can you provide a link or leave a quote on your next reply. Make sure it backs up what Bob specifically said in the above section I cut/pasted. I will gladly apologize if Scott actually says that Lucas and Star Wars motivated him to make Alien/Blade Runner and also influenced him to enter the genre.
Sorry, Maurizo, I can’t track any of the book’s text online. I’m not sure where you live, but if there’s a Barnes & Noble nearby (or any other popular bookstore equivalent), they might have a copy that you can check out during some free time. I do remember in the forward, despite being for Empire, Scott insisting that the original Star Wars remains his favorite and how it kicked into gear his pursuit to make Alien, or at least his sensibilities for the sci-fi genre. Again, I’m unable to quote this here and now, so don’t expect it to fly as irrefutable evidence.
For what it’s worth, in the DVD box set for the Star Wars saga there’s a special features doc that interviews a number of big name directors including Spielberg, Cameron and Jackson, with whom Scott participated: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2RPWISG_SBg
Obviously, 2001: A Space Odyssey was an influence as well. I think the basic point here is that when the time came for Scott to direct Alien, the past 10 years of science fiction at its best on film – namely, the two aforementioned titles from Kubrick and Lucas, along with Close Encounters – inspired him to achieve a fully realized future universe that could be expressed artfully and taken seriously by critics and audiences alike. In the midst of that, he further emphasized from Star Wars the same initial conceit of a futuristic, outer space world of total, ‘lived in’ verisimilitude.
It’s not uncommon for one film to inspire another that is so different in content, setting or tone. There are always certain ideas, broad or specific, that filmmakers pick up and shape into their own. Hell, just consider how different Star Wars is from The Hidden Fortress.
Regardless of lacking a definitive quote, I believe everything your saying Canon. Your being very specific with your sources and it seems truthful. I will gladly concede that Lucas was an obvious influence on Scott and his two best films. I will say that if you read Bob or have had any dealings with him in the past you would understand my skepticism. Either way thanks for the info and thanks to Bob Clark for creating this discussion with a well written essay.
I checked the quote from the ESB book myself. I won’t bother to quote it, because he goes on for a paragraph about how much SW impacted him, and it’s just reiterating a lot of points already made here. Even more telling is a quote from “Future Noir: The Making of Blade Runner”, where Paul Sammon quotes Scott as saying on the set that “the only two science fiction movies to make any kind of impression on me were ‘The Day the Earth Stood Still’ and ‘Star Wars’”. That’s what he said back in 1981, and if he mentions Kubrick now, I expect that’s because “Prometheus” shares more in common with that director than “Alien” or “Blade Runner” did, or perhaps just due to his changing tastes as a filmgoer and filmmaker. But SW has always been a reference point (THX has been too– I think in conjunction with those films he talked about how much he liked Lucas’ treatment of Orwell/Huxley territory).
I don’t doubt Kubrick’s an influence on Scott, but as far as “Alien” goes, there are much bigger touchstone films that bear a visible impact in tone and themes. One could even say that film and “Prometheus” are in a sense grand remakes of “Forbidden Planet”, if you want to go way back. What are the xenomorphs but the ultimate “Monster from the Id”?
It was terrible and I was glad when it was over.
Eh? What are you talking about? Not “Prometheus”, considering the generally good review you gave it.
I was just fibbing. Through all twelve paragraphs. I’m a scoundrel.
Nah, you’re just fibbing right now. Right? Scoundrel, indeed.
Not much to add to your post, you said it all. The Lost writer knew how to go for the hard sell by leaving many loose ends. I don’t find that admirable, but it’s interesting.
Cliffhangers are what kept Scheherezade alive. Though one might wonder that if she tried that today, she probably wouldn’t have survived the May Sweeps.
Excellent comparison … audiences are indeed insecure and fickle like Shahryar, killing the newest thing as soon as we’ve had it the first time.
Notes as I read the review:
- Joss Wheddon has said many times that the film uses about 2 pages from his original script and mutilates/rewrites the rest, just saying because you bring it up so prominently as if it were his fault the movie was bad, when it was of course fault of that awful french director.
- “At the Mountains of Madness” is a piece of literature that actually doesn’t leave earth, so it’s quite interesting how it doesn’t feature Great Gods that created us, but Great Gods that want to destroy us, hence the most direct connection with this particular film, and my guess for del Toro’s sayings. But I’m thinking that it’s also a visual thing, since it takes place in the Antartic (South Pole), the same place where The Adventures of Gordon Pym (Edgar Allan Poe) and Alien vs. Predator takes place. I’d say it’s quite an interesting piece to look at, and I’m still hoping for Del Toro’s movie without Tom Cruise.
- The Surgery Scene may go down as one of the most terrifying and suspenseful moments of film of the year and maybe this decade. A set piece that is a perfection in every sense of the word: editing, scoring, sound effects, pure dread, acting, special effects, disgusting visuals and camera-work. Scene of the Year… until Django Unchained comes, that is.
- I agree with some of the points made about how it seems a pilot for a tv series, as I also felt that it made me confused as the movie progressed, keeping many things hidden and then giving out unsatisfactory answers, something that many Lost fanboys said that happened at the end of the series, and while I think that it is right that that’s what happened, in the context of the series it worked, and it works magnificently, because the island itself is a mistery, but the characters… we’ve grown with them and we know them deeply inside/out, Who cares about polar bears? I want to know what happened with Jack and Sawyer! Now, this doesn’t work in this movie, because the characters aren’t as developed, since… well, it’s not a series, you know.
- There are many scenes and elements that made this a bit higher, but I don’t think it isn’t worth it just because of the visuals, and I think that it’s one of the better movies so far of this year, and that’s because the performances are really great, even if it’s not really accompanied with a perfect script, it has some great scenes and then some that feel weak when they try to connect too violently to the franchise of Alien.
- I think that it’s one of the best horror movies made in the USA in a long time (discarding, of course, the movie that I only liked: Scream 4, which is just genius for me), and I think that it delivers many scenes that will be remembered and some great creatures to look forward in their internal evolution.
I give it ****.
And just something to add. Jokingly I said that this was a ripoff of “Planet of the Vampires”… well, not so far from that really.
1– Whedon’s first ideas weren’t taken as is– he wanted Newt to be cloned instead of Ripley, Fox had him tone down his script’s vision from draft to draft based on their budget considerations– but the final script was indeed all him, and though Jeunet may not have directed it exactly as he wanted, it’s his story and concepts on the screen. I like all of Jeunet’s other films– this is the odd one out.
2– I hope that Del Toro’s film comes together in some shape or form as well. It’s curious how much influence, or at the very least synchronicity, there is between Lovecraft’s mythos and so many other takes on the ancient alien concept. HBO’s been showing the “X Files” movie a lot lately, and that hits all the same cornerstones too, including a UFO buried in antarctica full of Greys who want nothing more than impregnate humans with their ravenous DNA and give birth to malevolent EBE’s.
3– The surgery scene is indeed the high point of the film. It deserves to be in the same sentence as the iconic chest-bursting sequence from the original. I wish the film around it were better off, but perhaps with the benefit of a director’s cut and a set of sequels it’ll all pay off.
4– I care about the polar bears. A hell of a lot more than Jack and Sawyer.
5– Honestly there weren’t any characters I engaged with aside from Noomi, Fassbender and maybe Theron and Pearce (I can’t help but think that there may be more of him in an extended version– at the very least, that viral TED talk with him was more interesting than his presence in the film proper).
As I stated in my Diary round-up, I thought the film was passable but a far cry from Scott’s ALIEN. It’s distancing, and sketch and bombastically scored, and in the end nothing is resolved. Very engaging piece here.