Prometheus

I'll just get this out of the way right off the top. I wouldn't bother reading this if you've yet to watch Prometheus. Not simply because of spoilers, although yes, there will be plenty of those. To be more accurate, I should say don't read this unless you've seen the film and have some semblance of an awareness concerning the frustrated outrage it has caused and the divisive camps springing up on all sides vociferously forwarding their points of view.  This film was clearly meant by its creators to be a think piece and it definitely is that, with spirited, impassioned debate cropping up in every corner of the nerdosphere. But, like the unpredictable evolutionary track all manner of life takes in the film, so goes the nature of the online talking points. The discussion I imagine Spaihts, Lindelof and Scott presupposed to ignite in regards to their Chariot of the Gods storyline has morphed into a bellowing echo chamber of disgust with warmed over philosophical debates, dodgy character motivations and bewildering narrative black holes.  This long awaited, much anticipated lightning rod has opened this weekend like a nuclear blast, and now all us cinephiles are dazed, left to wander the wreckage and woozily assess the fallout.

I saw the film first thing Friday on a true IMAX screen, swallowed up by six stories of succulent 3D and pounded into submission by the peerless sound system.  The first five minutes leading to the title reveal instantly became one of my favorite film sequences of all time.  I wish more modern cinema had the audacity to present wordless wonder in this capacity.  I felt hushed reverence toward the self sacrificial ritual this unearthly being performs.  The ramifications of which are inherently humbling, not to mention about the most powerful way to open a film possible.  After this, we pull back into the narrative through line the trailers have promised, with the spelunking archaeologists finding a map in a cave and whoosh! we're on the titular ship, headed toward the outer reaches of space and perhaps our species starting point.  If there's one thing you have to give this film, it really moves, and considering how I am oft irritated by Sir Ridley's draggy tendencies, this greatly pleased me.

We are then introduced to David, the fascinating, mischievous android played with perfect precision by Fassbender.  His five minute solo sequence milling about the ship, shooting hoops, riding his bicycle, dying his hair and watching movies could have been extended another thirty and that would have been fine with me.  This is just plain masterful storytelling and film making going on here.  We slide effortlessly into this world, comfortably and willingly becoming a part of it.  The ship reaches its destination, David wakes the crew, the mission is laid out and we're off and running again, exploring the cavernous depths of..... You know what?  If you saw the film, you know what went down and I can dispense with the blow by blow.  The first time I saw it, this is where the film started losing me.

I was flabbergasted by Holloway removing his helmet and everyone following suit.  I was shocked by the punk rock geologist getting lost leaving the cave despite being the person mapping it in the first place!  I mean, the ship had his beacon and clearly could have guided him out!  The storm was a groaner 1950's sci-fi cheapie contrivance and the formerly timid biologist practically begging a visibly threatening alien serpent to jump down his throat had my jaw on the floor.   Bit by bit, I found myself more and more shocked by each and every characters increasingly erratic behavior and phantom motivation. 

But, it looked so breathtakingly phenomenal.  Every frame is a marvel of technical film making and artistic imagination.  The aesthetic appeals to me on a core level of my being and the horrific scenes are magnificently structured.  Flawlessly accomplished master works of stomach turning terror that resonate on a fundamentally biologic level.  I was torn.  So much of the visual and visceral stuff worked for me, but I wasn't connecting with the story, characters or theme.  I hopped on Twitter and some message boards and weighed in with my complaints.  It quickly became clear they were shared by most.  Then things started turning ugly, especially toward Lindelof.  I wisely held off on writing this piece until seeing it a second time. 

I have to admit, a lot of character relationships and individual actions became clearer to me.  This was partly due to a much appreciated heads up from a good friend about visual cues to pay attention to on my re-watch.  Also, being relieved of the burden to visually soak in every bit of minutiae surrounding the production design, my eyes were freed up a bit more to pay attention to the story.  I'll freely admit I still don't get why Weyland needed to keep his being alive and on the ship a secret.  And yes, the stuff with the Steve Irwin biologist and Punk Rock geologist is seemingly dropped in out of a clunky B-movie (it's kind of fun though and makes for a great shock scene, regardless of how silly the set up).  But most importantly, I found myself intellectually and emotionally engaged a great deal more once unencumbered by expectation.

David and Holloway are both petulant children wanting to impress their fathers and open their Christmas presents.  They become dejected when they don't get what they want and behave according to their biology (or lack thereof) when in that frustrated state.  David's jealousy of Holloway's status as a real boy (and no doubt temporary star pupil of his ersatz father) informs his actions as much as his desire to please Weyland. Noomi's Shaw is a tremendous emotional center for the film.  Her relationship with Holloway comes across rather strongly and I totally believe their connection.  I adore that moment when he brings her the rose and emerges through the holoscreen, replacing the image of the engineer and taking his place as instrument of forced evolution in the bedroom.  My second viewing, I actually teared up at Noomi's howling, apocalyptic reaction to his Vickers-assisted suicide.  It's a powerful, earned moment and a stern reminder you don't necessarily fall in love with characters the first time through a film.  

 I know it's ridiculous and pointless to have Pearce in all that makeup, but damn is his performance growing on me.  The look of the old age prosthetics, which are nowhere near the atrocity people are making them out to be, gives me a favorable mental association with Keir Dullea in 2001.  Frankly, I could watch Guy Pearce doing that old-timer soft shoe in his magic legs all day long.  I love it!  It gives the film character, it makes it fun and I'll always look forward to seeing it when I watch it in the future. 

I love the weird family dynamic with Vickers, Weyland and David.  Great sibling rivalry complicated by the inclusion of an artificial human in the mix.  Clearly, Vickers is driven to be so severe and robotic as a means to impress her father by outdoing David at his own game.  I think Theron's scene with Pearce is fantastic.  Her begging him to give up his mad pursuit of ego driven immortality and gracefully exit stage left met with a fist, a stone hearted rebuttal of her concern and affection.

I'm really warming up to Elba's aloof Captain Janek.  He's a great physical presence and confidently exudes working man leadership.  His scene with Theron and the Squeezebox is bizarre, but I find it charming and necessary to support Vickers robot complex.  Her willingness to prove her humanity, and indeed Janek's assertion she came down there for something other than to check on the map, gives her character depth and an inner life.  I don't find it the least bit unbelievable that characters would shack up like horny teenagers when battered by a storm on a hostile planet where they just discovered extraterrestrial life.  On a purely biologic survival instinct level, it makes perfect sense.

That's the thing I noticed about Prometheus watching it a second time.  Sure it brings up the origin of human life on earth, but it is more dearly concerned with actual human life.  The messy, horny, petty particulars of how we interact as a species are a big part of this film.  While its insistence to alternate focus between so many disparate ideas, themes and characters may result in them all being given shorter shrift, it also opens the film up immeasurably.  It is about so much and seems to genuinely care about every tangent it takes on, even if it's to the detriment of the primary narrative thrust.  The film has more ideas than it knows what to do with and more directions than it can possibly take, but I can forgive this brand of greedy ambition as its roots lie in desiring to give the audience something profound.

It's a big film.  It is big art, big ideas, big performances, big music.  It is unfortunately, unavoidably weighted down by big expectations and being labelled a big disappointment.  It has problems and doesn't all make perfect sense, but it has people talking like no other film so far this year.  I've been thinking a lot about life and death and my place in the cosmos since seeing it, but I've also been thinking about identity, self worth, love, familial strain, ambition, legacy and a myriad of other very terrestrial matters.  Prometheus is an insanely intense piece of art filled with colorful characters, unknowable Gods and unimaginable monsters.  It has something for every part of my personality.  It has cosmic, existential dread.  Loopy, unintentional humor.  Broad and nuanced performances.  Cheesy monster battles.  Heart stopping body horror.  Bad ass art design and sublime,soaring CGI majesty.  It's a mass of contradictions and imperfect, jagged angles that refuse to fit together how you want them to.  I suppose you either mash the pieces into place and bemoan their unwieldy appearance, or you can spread them out and admire their beauty in spite of how they don't connect.

Most seem to have resigned themselves to Holloway's opinion.  That this film is just another tomb, an abject failure, case closed.  I prefer to look at it like Shaw.  It's an invitation.  One that I gladly accept and will continue on exploring.