Prometheus: Respect!

Finally, a film depicting god-like aliens who actually look the part.

I rarely do this.  Prometheus is only the second movie I have reviewed on my politics blog.  (See if you can find the other one.)  Doing film criticism here is kind of like pouring chocolate syrup on your corn flakes: two good things, but not necessarily too good together. The thing is though, the reviews that I've seen about a movie I really like are almost all negative, so I feel compelled to add my two cents.  

Before I start, it's worth noting that most of the criticisms you will find about Prometheus are conceptual or intellectual, i.e. about the film's meaning and internal consistency.  Visually, it is stunning, nobody can dispute it. The opening sequence in particular I could watch again and again; it's just beautiful, haunting cinematography.  (It also gave me a strange feeling: proud to be from Earth, to live on a wild planet that looks like this. That's not a feeling I have every day.)  And most of the characters were interesting and dynamic, and the roles were well-acted: first and foremost Michael Fassbender as the creepy yet charming android David, but also Charlize Theron as Weyland's angry, impatient heir, and Noomi Rapace as Elizabeth Shaw (more on her later).  Character development was not neglected.  Also, the special effects were not cheesy or overdone.  Finally, with regard to its sci-fi cred, there was nothing outrageously unbelievable.  Given that all these elements that kill many a sci-fi film were indeed quite good, it's all the more surprising how consistently negative most critics were.  Probably because it was a Ridley Scott film, expectations were sky-high.

Let me get one annoying question that critics have raised out of the way first: should Prometheus stand alone, or should it "make sense" in the Alien universe created by Ridley Scott?  Answer: both. If you are not yet an adult, or an adult who lives in a cave and hasn't seen any of the Aliens movies, you will still enjoy Prometheus.  And then you will promptly watch Alien and probably all the others, and join the club.  

But I assume that 99 percent of U.S. moviegoers have seen all the Alien movies, so it's a stupid question in the first place.  My assumption -- which I'm certain is correct -- is that Ridley Scott assumed most people would have seen at least Alien, (they've had 32 years to squeeze it in their busy schedules) and probably all the other films. Let's just give Scott his due and assume Alien is part of the film canon and he's in the pantheon of great directors.  He's earned the right to assume we know his work... and if we don't, we are the idiots who are missing out.  

Having assumed that, then we can assume that Scott accepted our familiarity with the other Alien films, and used our familiarity to influence how we saw Prometheus.  He'd be naive to attempt otherwise. Therefore, we can conclude that Scott thought that Prometheus "made sense" or at least didn't contradict anything in the other Alien films.  That's important to keep in mind when you're pondering this film.  And you will ponder it after you see it... if you have any imagination and half a brain, that is.

The "making sense" question is related to the next common criticism of the film, but it's Scott's universe and only he knows where it's headed.  He just gives us glimpses.  So we cannot say, on the one hand, "Give us answers!" and on the other hand complain, "But I don't get it!"  Do your best to get it.  He's not obligated to publish Cliff's Notes.  (And I'll take my shot at helping you "get it" a bit later on....)

The next question or criticism I've heard is that Prometheus doesn't explain enough. This is a petulant complaint from filmgoers who have waited 32 years for Scott to tie up all the loose ends from the original Alien.  Sorry to break it to you, but this genius does not make movies just to pander to us, or to fill in the gaps in our Alien-nerd knowledge.  He's out to realize his own unique vision.  The Alien universe is his, he created it.  Scott just lets us play in it for a while. If you are fascinated by this universe like I am, then come with humble gratitude that he's letting us in at all. Come with respect, folks.  

This leads to the next criticism: that Prometheus is begging for a sequel.  Well, OK, fair enough.  I mean, Prometheus itself is a prequel.  It was not meant to be a stand-alone film, as I already established.  And the philosophical questions it tackles are huge, indeed, plenty big for one or two sequels.  Not to mention covering all of human history and crossing the vastness of space.  There is also a practical issue: the numb-ass factor.  I mean, to show everything he (presumably) wanted to show without skimping or cheating, took 124 minutes.  He could have made an even longer film, but then his audience might collapse as they tried to stand up four hours later with acute paresthesia, probably spilling their soda cups filled with their own urine.

The next criticism I've heard is that it's gratuitously gross, with lots of gore and slime and stuff.  This is also a stupid criticism, because all the other Alien films featured the same.  I suspect this criticism stems from those sci-fi nerds who thought this film's primary purpose was to be an elegant meditation on something or other, and really too philosophical and profound for gross stuff shooting out of people's faces, etc.  These critics are really just betraying their biases and preconceived notions.  These are the same kind of people who believe that comedies should never win Best Picture or Best Actor Oscars, because they're not "serious" enough.  

Another criticism (and these are coming in no particular order now), is that it was foolish and kind of corny for the otherwise smart, strong female lead, scientist Elizabeth Shaw (played by Noomi Rapace), to persist in her belief in a Christian God through the end of the film, despite everything she learned about the Engineers.  But isn't religious belief always irrational and religious practice always goofy?  And haven't lots of mankind's leading lights throughout history been great believers?  Newton, for example, wrote more about end-times theology than he did about physics or mathematics.  Perhaps that's a minor theme that Scott wanted to touch on.  If he doesn't want to, then I will.  

But it seems that many moviegoers, especially after watching the trailers and listening to some teasers from Scott, were really expecting him to take a major-league swing at God and knock him out of the park with one movie. That would have been too easy, too snarky, too contrived.  And it's already been done.  No, good sci-fi should not just show us an imagined future, but also make us think about our real past and present.  That's what Shaw's incongruous religious faith compels us to do.  Besides, she had the perfect annoying believer's response ready for David when he asked her why she persisted in her belief: "Who made them?"  I'm not saying that was a satisfying answer, but it was a real answer. It's the kind of answer a real, committed believer in God would give, holding out till the last. And so I accepted it on those terms. Scott wasn't going to pander to our sci-fi atheism. Her persistent faith, despite having learned more than any human ever has about our Creation, causes us to ponder religion itself.  If that isn't deep, what is?

There have been some story-related criticisms, too.  For example, the black goo, and what is it?  And why do the aliens look different?  I can only speculate, but I do have an elegant explanation that fits.  But only Scott knows for sure.  (Spoiler alert: I'm about to get specific now.)

Let's start with the title.  I'm surprised how few critics spent any time discussing the title, and at least speculating what it meant.  Yeah, yeah, the ship was called the Prometheus.  But to me, obviously the title relates to an actual Prometheus: the chiseled, marble-white Engineer in the opening scenes who voluntarily (?) swallowed some black Engineer's goo, killing himself and thereby donated his genetic material to the Earth, as a huge Engineer mother ship hovered eerily, silently overhead.  Like the enabler in an interplanetary assisted suicide (... or an executor at the gallows?...).  The film's title is a not-so-subtle reference to the thoughtful Titan of Greek mythology who created man and and taught him the arts of civilization, only to suffer death as punishment for his transgression by fellow god Zeus. The Engineers' marble-like appearance is another not-so-subtle allusion to Greek sculpture. There's nothing subtle about it at all, and yet most critics don't seem to get it.  And if you think about it, the Prometheus myth hints that, from the start of Scott's new imagined history of mankind, we were perhaps looked on with doubt or even disdain by all the Engineers except Prometheus himself.  Fast-forward to the film's ending, and it's not so surprising, therefore, that the god-like Engineers had decided to wipe us out several thousand years ago. (Some versions of the myth say that Prometheus prevented Zeus from destroying mankind; others say that Zeus wiped out five generations of mankind.)

And you can go even further, if you're so inclined, and point out the similarities between the Prometheus myth and the Christ myth: two gods who had to give their lives so that men, these imperfect creatures made in God's image, could live.  And then link that back to Shaw's Christianity.  Is Christ just an allegory for the great Engineer, Prometheus?  I'm getting off track here, but these open questions are part of the enjoyment that continues after the final credits roll.

Anyway, back to the black goo. Here's my take: it's basically programmed evolution.  (Remember the skeptical biologist who accused Shaw and her partner of trying to turn Darwin on his head?  Exactly.)  The goo needs a host life form, just like the original Aliens do.  Then it starts mutating according to plan.  The monster it produces will depend on the host, and how many generations it has gone through.  In Prometheus, after three generations (go back and count them if you're unsure) we finally get a bi-pedal, motorcycle-chassis-headed alien that we're used to seeing.  This is actually the last thing we see.  

Incidentally, there is growing evidence that for us to be space travelers and colonists we must first be space biologists.  NASA and universities are already experimenting with producing everything from cement to oil and plastic from bacteria and other microbes. Why?  Because it's too hard to bring everything with you in a spaceship.  Microbes are small, weigh almost nothing, and can react with raw materials on alien planets to make stuff we humans need to live.  So Ridley Scott's decision to make his super aliens supreme biological Engineers was right on the cutting edge of science.    

You know, finally, to answer the critics who say this movie's plot was a let-down, I say... That was by design!  Think about it.  Weyland & Co. travel into the unknown with high hopes of meeting their wise and benevolent Creators who can answer all their questions about life and the meaning of everything.  Yet what they find is... the aftermath of a deadly accident at a biological weapons factory that was built to wipe out life on Earth.  Yeah, I'd call that a let-down!  Go rent Contact if you want something touchy-feely and optimistic.

There is a lot more going on in this film, about parents-children, god-men, creator-destroyer, science for science's sake, and so on.  You could argue that some of these themes were not perfectly developed.  And a few characters and scenes seemed stunted.  Nevertheless, Prometheus stays with you.  I've watched it three times now.  It'll provoke all kinds of what-if thoughts, if you're at all open to such daydreaming.  Any movie that stays with you that long can't be that bad.  

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming....

UPDATE: (Spoiler alert!) I thought it was really obvious what was happening at the climax of the film when the Engineer tore the head off of android David: he was repulsed and offended by a mechanical copy of a human being, because the Engineers create real biological life, not machine mimics. You could even suppose, based on the beginning of the film -- the seemingly senseless self-sacrifice of the Engineer to "seed" a planet with his DNA -- and the temple-like appearance of the room with the black goo where a human head sits front and center on the "altar," that the Engineers placed high religious significance on their work. (And that perhaps they consider themselves gods). But recently I learned that my friend who was disappointed by the movie didn't catch that hint at all. This sets up a coming conflict between the religion of the Engineers and the unflappable Christian faith of Shaw in the sequel: whose is the false religion?  And what is the real crime: to create life simply because men can (life that potentially runs amok and destroys us), or to create AI that dims man's greatness (and potentially destroys us)?