Film review: Prometheus

[Originally published: 19th Feb 2023]

Hello readers! It’s time for another semi-serious film review. Last time I talked about Netflix’s A Christmas Prince, so now I’m taking the logical next step and reviewing a generally well-received science fiction horror film with a $130 million budget, directed by Ridley Scott. If you haven’t seen the title of this post, I’m talking about Prometheus (2012).

First off, a disclaimer. I have not watched Alien (1979).

Some of you may find this grossly upsetting, as I am aware that Alien is well-loved and sometimes regarded as a masterpiece. In fact, it has 98% on Rotten Tomatoes, which we all know is the gold standard for film reviewing (NOTE: this is sarcasm, and a discussion for another time). Still, having never seen the film to which Prometheus is apparently a prequel, my views may be blighted, or possibly untainted, by my ignorance. Just bear that in mind.

Oh, and another disclaimer: generally speaking, I don’t like horror films. However, I think the things that horrified me most about Prometheus were probably unintentional on Ridley Scott’s part. That being said, let’s tear this film to shreds.

To shreds, you say?

In the beginning, there was Iceland. Iceland is impressive, but has no real relevance to anything that comes next. An alien drinks some spicy juice, accidentally dissolves himself, and gets washed away down a big waterfall. Why? Maybe there are things we were never meant to know. Maybe there are things which look epic and serve no other purpose.

With our alien chap nicely dissolved, we cut to a cave on the Isle of Skye. Here, some crummy caveman graffiti of questionable origin somehow becomes the catalyst for a rich old man to launch some “scientists” into space in search of aliens. Why? Based on what? Stop asking stupid questions. His eminence Sir Ridley would have explained if this was important.

The film skips a few years at this point, because space journeys are notoriously long and boring. We rejoin the timeline when our cast of characterless characters awake from their pods, having arrived at their destination. If only all public transport was so blissful…

Destination: a nice, friendly planet that looks suspiciously like Iceland

On arrival, our crew of “scientists” goes out to see some ancient ruins, and are disappointed by the lack of undissolved aliens. Having measured the air to be breathable, they remove their helmets and start huffing the alien atmosphere, because why not? It isn’t as if this planet might carry pathogens or strange technologies they can’t detect. It isn’t as if they need to worry about contaminating this ancient site as they search for clues. These guys are scientists, dammit. They’re cleverer than you. Stop asking questions.

This brings me nicely onto the biggest flaw with Prometheus: hollow tension manufactured through the ineptitude and ignorance of the characters. A person with the combined intellect of the entire crew would struggle to make a peanut butter sandwich without supervision. And sadly, Mr Scott requires us to root for this sorry bunch of numpties in order for his cinematic vision to be realised.

A comedy of errors

The helmet removal is the first in a long chain of incomprehensible character decisions. I can’t list them all, because once is a mistake, twice is coincidence, three times is mindless stupidity and four is just taking the piss. After that, I start drawing perverse enjoyment from the glorious idiocy, and when the characters inevitably start dying off, I can’t help but yell “GOOD RIDDANCE!” or “FINALLY!” or “WHAT DID YOU EXPECT, YOU ABSOLUTE BUFFOON?” at the screen.

This would all be well and good, but I don’t think it was what the esteemed Master Ridley intended. When characters are introduced as scientists, but act like chimpanzees on crack, the reality presented to us starts to crumble – to dissolve, like our alien friend. And if characters and scenarios don’t seem real, why should we care? Riddley me that, Mr Scott.

Some redeeming features

Even if the human characters are so infuriating that we wish death upon them, the squiggly wiggly aliens almost make up for it. The squigglers in question have a penchant for penetrating places they shouldn’t, like mouths, ear holes and eyes – the old squirm-inducing human weaknesses. However, when the humans are being so bloody annoying, you can’t help but start rooting for the wormies.

The best of the bunch is Squidly Scott Junior, who starts life living in a crew-member’s eye, takes a journey through said crew-member’s member, ends up growing in the womb of the least worst human character, then pops out to say hello in the best and most gorgeously gory scene in the film. Squidly Jr. goes on to flobber his way around the ship on a blubbery killing spree – carrying the film on his slippery little back.

Oh, and there’s the bit where the ship just keeps rolling.

One of the other most memorable scenes from this film is where a giant, doughnut-shaped alien spacecraft ends up on its side and starts to chase the surviving morons down a slight incline. At this point, I should have come to expect our “scientists” to make the worst decision available, and yet I was still left speechless by the scene that followed – mostly because I was laughing so hard and for so long that I became light-headed.

The ship just keeps rolling. And rolling. And rolling. Almost as if someone has just kept editing the same five seconds of footage to make it last as long as possible (see this video for comparison). However, the doughnut roll is meant to be deadly serious. Our characters are in danger, not least because they keep running in a straight line away from it, rather than taking the shorter, safer option of stepping out of its path. That would be too sensible. This scene is undoubtedly the highlight of the film, but for all the wrong reasons.

In summary

There are better science fiction films to watch. There are better horror films to watch. There are better Ridley Scott films to watch (indeed, I struggle to believe that The Last Duel was directed by the same person). However, if Prometheus gets fed to you by some algorithm and you can’t be bothered to stop it playing automatically, I suppose you could do worse. Just make sure you follow the example of the characters, and don’t question anything.