[NOTE: I AM ABOUT TO DISCUSS PROMETHEUS. IF YOU ARE ATTEMPTING TO STAY NEUTRAL ABOUT THIS FILM BECAUSE YOU BELIEVE IN YOUR HEART OF HEARTS THAT YOU'LL ENJOY IT, THIS IS NOT THE POST FOR YOU.]
So, I’ve watched two bad movies lately and one good (thanks, Wes Anderson, for Moonrise Kingdom, about a lonely boy who loves a lonely girl, who runs away with that girl — a movie I wish I could describe with the same vivid wacky charm that each scene exudes in heaps and bounds — but alas, its whimsy must be experienced for one’s own self), and I have to tell you…I’m a bit boggled.
So, the first movie (which I blogged about) was Snow White and the Huntsman. The frustrating thing about Snow White was that it was actually a not-so-bad film in desperate need of a great editor. And an actual romance. Because [spoilers] when you have THOR in your movie and you call that movie Snow White AND the Huntsman, then you better — you better – deliver some love. Which it totally did not. I mean, it didn’t even try. Which still makes me go, “HUH?”
Leading me to Prometheus. Which takes “HUH?” and ratchets it up to “WTF x 1,000,000,000!!!”
Okay, so here is the spoiler-free lesson to take from this monstrosity of a film, and I hope you all hold it close to your hearts:
Everyone needs an editor.
Actually, scratch that. What people need are good editors. And by that, I mean this: No matter how long you’ve been telling stories, no matter how talented you are (or think you are), or how talented everyone says you are, you will always, always, run the risk of being too close to your work, too close to see the truth that should be self-evident: That what you’ve written is crap, and needs to be revised with a heavy hand.
(I don’t discount the occasional genius who never needs this sort of help — but hey, most of us are mere mortals)
Let’s be clear. Revisions, editing, getting help for your work…none of this is a bad thing, nor is it a strike against an artist’s character. Shit happens, my friends. The whole point is that you don’t let it out in the open where the unsuspecting can step in it.
Prometheus needed a brutally honest assessment that it clearly never received. Or if it did, was never listened to.
And I suppose I’m even more disappointed because Alien is one of the most brilliant movies ever made. It’s a spare, character-driven, horror film — set in space — and it is almost perfect in every way. Nothing is wasted. Characters feel real. Characters have chemistry. Actions make sense. The atmosphere is visceral and tense.
In other words, Alien is a movie with truly intelligent storytelling.
And Prometheus is not. It wastes so much time on needless, bloated exposition. It doesn’t develop characters, leaving them as little more than stereotypes. There is no tension. No sense. In fact, it is an incredibly boring movie.
And very misogynistic.
If you’re interested, here are two hilarious reviews that sum up the movie and it’s flaws. They are very therapeutic for those who have seen the movie, and are still twitching.
Film Freak Central: “Make no mistake, it takes a lot of money, energy, and anticipation to make a movie this bad. Without anticipation, after all, without a bedrock legacy of one of the finest science-fiction films of all time, there couldn’t be this level of disappointment.”
Digital Digging: “Following a trail of wet footsteps we discover the Charlize Theron character. She’s proving she’s well hard by showing us that all she has to do to recover from two years in suspended animation is some push ups in her wet bra and wet knickers. Everyone else wakes up and is a bit groggy, or throws up. The pussies.”
And there you have it.