Prometheus

Prometheus (2012)

Director: Ridley Scott

Cast: Noomi Rapace, Michael Fassbender, Idris Elba, Guy Pearce, Charlize Theron

*The following review is written by our guest editor, Stephen Spencer*

There’s nothing better than a film you want to watch again immediately after it ends.  Then there are films you never ever want to see again because they’re just so bad (the much hyped and disappointing The Watchmen comes to mind).  Ridley Scott’s Prometheus falls somewhere between these two extremes.  It’ll leave many viewers outside the cineplex groping for explanations and clarifications, but unfortunately, it doesn’t have many of the answers.  This isn’t to say that it’s a bad film, however; it is good on many levels but seriously flawed on others.

For the good, we need look no further than director Ridley Scott.  Like Blade Runner and Kingdom of Heavenbefore it, Prometheus is absolutely gorgeous and cements Scott as a living legend in terms of cinematography and visual style. From its lush intergalactic set pieces to its hideously bizarre monsters, Prometheus is a jaw-dropping adventure from scene to scene that engages viewers in its epic universe. Not for nothing, Prometheus begs to be seen in all its optical grandeur.

Many suspected that Prometheus shared the same universe as an earlier Scott film: the claustrophobically horrifying Alien.  As rumors turned to virtual fact, fans rejoiced at a fresh take on the iconic series from its original visionary, one that seemed to promise a hyper expansion of the Alien mythos.  But this is where the film makes its first mistake.  Fans watching Prometheus with Alien in mind will be sorely disappointed, not because of the lack of tie-ins (there is one overt tie-in, and it’s huge), but rather because they feel shoehorned in.  Prometheus could have stood on its own, but it chooses to stand on the shoulders of Alien to distracting and detrimental effects.  

Further hurting the film is it plot and characters.  Alien was so successfully captivating because it cultivated a low-key tone and organic pace through its realistic characters, with a plot punctuated at key moments by the Xenomorph.  Prometheus has the opposite problem: there’s too much room to breathe and not enough good breathing. Noomi Rapace and Logan Marshall-Green play Elizabeth Shaw and Charlie Holloway, fellow archaeologists/lovers that discover several interlinked cave etchings, leading to Prometheus’s intergalactic journey in search of the “Engineers” (the creators of the human race).  Rapace and Green’s on-screen chemistry never takes off, partly because the parameters of their characters’s romantic relationship is unclear.  Overseeing the Prometheus mission is Charlize Theron’s Meredith Vickers. Theron ably plays the role of the stern corporate suit, but it’s her skin-tight body suit that most (male) viewers will be interested in.  Commandeering the ship is Janek, played by Idris Elba, who is severely underutilized. The script can’t decide whether he’s a maverick loner or a born-and-bred leader, but one of these characterizations is forced on him without enough preparation.  Perhaps most disappointing character is Guy Pearce’s Peter Weyland, the aging billionaire CEO and financier of the Prometheus expedition.  Seeing Pearce in “old man” makeup is the film’s only visual gaffe; to put it bluntly, he looks ridiculous.  Why the filmmakers did not cast an actual senior citizen is beyond comprehension, and Pearce’s brief inclusion brings the film to the border of camp.  

Saving the best for last, Michael Fassbender plays David, the ship’s android.  David is idiosyncratic, super intelligent, and utterly emotionless, yet Fassbender imbues him with a unique type of humanity that alludes almost every other actor on screen (save for Rapace).  Scott is clearly interested in the concomitant themes conjured by the android archetype (Alien and Blade Runner), including that of creation, technology, and humanity.  Fassbender’s David is a new and interesting take on this character, and he ultimately provides the film with its existential and philosophic underpinnings.

Fassbender cannot, however, save Prometheus from its loose plot.  Looseness can be an artistic virtue, but this isn’t jazz; it’s more akin to a band student in her room with un-honed technical chops.  Many of the character’s decisions either go unexplained or are simply unrealistic; “reveals” are often dramatically unnecessary and confusing; and finally, some of the plot elements are downright confusing.  All this adds up to a film that begs post-screening discussion, discussion that does nothing more than reveal the shoddiness of its narrative.  

Prometheus does gain points for tackling the big themes: faith, family, and the pursuit of knowledge, among others.  But these should emerge from a well-structured plot and engaging characters, not the other way around.  InPrometheus, the thematic cart comes before the story-telling horse.  But the cart isn’t all that bad.  Prometheus is certainly worth a watch, particularly on the big screen, where its visuals and thrills are highlighted.  But don’t expect to be absorbed into a deeply layered universe -- it’s a black hole.

B  

The Grey

The Grey (2011)

Director: Joe Carnahan

Cast: Liam Neeson, Dermot Mulroney, Frank Grillo

Remember a long time ago when I wrote how B+ horror movies, like Insidious and Orphan, are solidly paced and solidly scary, but receive little attention or acclaim? My point was that B+ movies, horror or otherwise, have a niche, too, and need our love and support,even if they don't warrant immediate recognition from audience or critics (critics, bah!).  The reason is these movies are more likely to stand the test of time than many other films that were popular and supposedly iconic this past decade, but which are also B+ movies in quality and content. These uber-hyped movies have since withered away into pastiche and no one really watches them anymore, like one-hit-wonders or that popular jock from high school who now works at a mattress store (I actually know a guy). The one's that immediately come to mind are many of the Best Picture Winners: American Beauty, Crash, A Beautiful Mind, Slumdog Millionaire and The Hurt Locker. These mediocre movies can go straight to hell via the river Styx forever! Goodbye overblown mediocrity!

The Grey is a B+ movie that will likely gain more attention and praise as the 21st century progresses, and the reason is because it features so many classic film conventions in addition to many literary motifs as well. Obviously a film doesn't need literary motifs to be great, but it certainly needs a universal theme that can transcend the fact that -- let's say-- it's an airplane disaster wilderness survival flick with wolves starring Liam Neeson opening in January. But The Grey is that movie and a killer thoughtful and touching piece, something that Slumdog Millionare never achieved! (Clearly I hate Slumdog Millionaire, however, impending review of Boyle's far superior Sunshine coming soon).

First of all, the reason The Grey is only B+ is because it refuses to delve too deep into these universal themes, which is ironic I guess, depending on how you look at it. In the beginning we get Liam Neeson kneeling in the snow with a shot gun to the face, stopped at the very last minute from killing himself. Why is he so sad? We don't know why he's sad except that he has a daydream of  his hottie wife looking at him in bed. No matter. He boards a sketchy plane with a group of blue-collar workers which crashes (awesomely) in the middle of the frigid Alaskan wilderness. The remaining survivors are soon faced not with starvation or cannibalism ala Rugby team circa 1972 (RIP!), but rather with ferocious territorial wolves who lure each member into a gory death one by one. Therefore, what we have is a classic man versus beast saga, with abundant ubiquitous allusions to the similarities between the men and the canine beasts.

Let's just agree that this movie has some pretty sick scenes, like when My Best Friend's Wedding (Dermot Mulroney, I know) must zip line (shimmy) from a cliff to a gigantic tree a hundred feet off the ground, or when one member bleeds to death after the crash and Liam Neeson effectively consoles him into the light. We also get some promising actors, like the guy who plays Xaro Xhoan Daxos in Game of Thrones (RIP Daxos!). The movies also features a beautifully catchy Irish verse which is relevant to the story's conclusion, evokes the title's namesake, and is also an original piece, not some trite reference to a famous poet. (SPOILERS AHEAD) If you recall, the trailer featured a scene where our hero is about to engage in a battle to the death with a wolf, but the conclusion of this scene is not provided. By the end, do we really need it? Is there any question who will win? The answer is no. It is understood that Liam Neeson escaped a cowardly death for a noble demise, therefore experiencing life (and death) to the fullest. 

A final reason this film will stand the test of time is because Neeson recently lost his wife to a tragic skiing accident and has most likely drowned his grief in his work, as evidenced by the multiple movies he's starred in in the last few years. With The Grey, Neeson obviously channels some inner demons into his powerful and hypnotizing role, so when the Academy finally gives him his due of a life time achievement award many years from now, guess what? The Grey will also come out victorious once again.

B+

Girls (Season 1)

Such a rags to riches story.

We women live in terrible times. I know this because of the show Girls.

I knew we were in trouble with Girls from the very first episode, when Lena Dunham's pathetically reckless Hannah consents to passionless doggie-style rape with border-line mentally handicapped Brooklyn loser, Adam. The scene, like so many others in the series, is so desperate to spark repulsion and awkwardness from the viewer that it fails to elicit just that, instead merely calling attention to itself as a show desperately craving a post-modern gag reflex.  

Girls is a disaster of epic proportions, a show so self-conscious and pandering that it's constantly distracting from itself. In ignorantly assuming to be the voice of a voiceless generation, Lena Dunhum's despicable series actively refuses to partake in any substantive statements or opinions on the current role of women (girls, if you prefer). Instead, these twenty-something liberal-arts-grad heroines repeatedly demonstrate disregard for their so-called best friends and lovers, and worse, any semblance of respect for themselves.

Such irresponsibility is inexcusable, especially considering the current media and political debacle concerning women's rights in contemporary American society. That being said, such despondent observations of our generation's trails and pitfalls might be excusable if the narrative cared an iota for the basic tenants of character development. At the end of the first episode, Hannah leaves her parents' hotel after being cut-off financially, a precedent that presumably would result in her character evolving from an economically-challenged post-grad to an empowered, independent protagonist. No such luck, as Hannah succeeds in making increasingly stupid mistakes in her social life and career, even engaging in activities that border on disastrously harmful-- namely, offering to fuck her 50 something grope-y boss and then blackmailing him when he refuses. Such plot developments, which are wholly inconsequential to the plot anyway, are horribly damaging in the context of media depictions of women, considering that Dunham has made it clear that her aim in writing the show was to represent the lives of twenty-something women.   

Irregardless of this, the show refuses to have its characters account for their foibles and change their lives for the better. In this respect, all the female leads, not just Hannah, are boggling suppressed. Take "bohemian" (whatever the fuck that means) Brit Jessa, who can't simply meet with an ex-boyfriend without screwing him in order to prove that she's still desirable since he got a new girlfriend. Meek Shoshana is a virgin, and so obviously she can't engage socially with anyone without coming off as insanely awkward and so completely out of touch with  social conventions that she unknowingly smokes crack at a Bushwick party, strips, and runs down the street screaming (isn't this girl, like, 22 years old?) Even prissy career woman Marnie, who seems to kinda have her life in order, can't take the first step in actively pursuing a crude sexual encounter with a misogynistic sleeze-bag artist when he says, "The first time I fuck you, I might scare you a little because I'm a man" (ew). Instead, because she is so turned on, she runs and hides in the bathroom to ferociously masturbate....at her place of work, nonetheless.

Offensive anti-female depictions aside, the show suffers from repeatedly inane and unfunny plot devices-- such as when Hannah visits her hometown and has (awkward, of course) sex with a charming pharmacist and her father falls in the shower while having sex with her mom. Or when Jessa babysits and loses her employers children in the park. Or any other of the countless pointless scenes that do nothing to advance the plot or spark engaging conversations about gender and sex.

It is ironic that these four women have been referenced in the context of 90's- era Sex and the City. Would Samantha Jones run to the bathroom at the first sexual advance? Would Carrie Bradshaw be defeated by a molesting boss, or humiliate herself with an emotionally abusive fuck-buddy? Come now, let's not pretend that the characters of Girls, all played by the daughters of famous millionaires, are any more "real" than those of Sex and the City; their characters are just as insipid and contrite and shallow as those of the former , except at least the former featured women who acted on their own accord, and appeared earnest in its own botched goal to achieve a notion of female empowerment.

The only thing Girls achieves is portraying the self-hatred and resentment we feel about ourselves, a pervading marginalized group with no identity and no clue on how to move forward.

F

Breaking Bad (Season 1-2)

So this is the first television series featured on this blog. I'm excited!

If you're a fan of Walt, then you know that Breaking Bad's 5th and final season is premiering in almost a month (July 15).  To steel myself, I've been watching the entire show all over again, since I zoomed through it last year in order to watch the must anticipated Season 4. And oh man, how refreshing and wonderful it is to watch all our old friends again! Specifically, how nuanced and complex and stunning this show it the second time around. The following comment gets thrown around a lot in my neck of the woods in Brooklyn when Breaking Bad gets mentioned: "I've heard it's considered the best show of all time." Now I could be a good little blogger and do my research and find reviews in which critics spout out various points to buttress this position, but really, who gives a shit. Is Breaking Bad the best show of all time? What does that mean anyway? Let's find out!

Let's begin with a run through of Season 1 and 2's narrative SPOILERS SPOILERS. Walter White is a genius chemist who lives a boring and under appreciated life as a father and high school teacher in Albuquerque. He has never been allotted the credit or recognition he deserves through a series of set backs and failures. He works at a car wash where he is undermined by an asshole boss, his son has cerebral palsy, and his wife is newly knocked up. Poor Walt, stuck in a suburban deadlock, is diagnosed with lung cancer. Life sucks and then you die. Like all of us, Walt is merely a pawn in a cruel and unfair world of which we have no control. So what does he do? He aims to take control of his life, to assume power, by manufacturing meth. At first he chooses to do this for the practical purpose of leaving his family money after his death. As the series progresses, he finds his innermost self strengthened and rejuvenated as he must encounter and outmaneuver psychotic drug dealers and shrewd authorities, not to mention his own DEA agent brother-in-law, Hank. Not to mention that he must keep his illicit second job a secret from his family, a venture that causes him to build lies upon lies. However, it's a venture that likewise gives him the autonomy he craves. 

Why the alias Heisenberg? Much like the famous uncertainty principle, Walt's path gives him a semblance of control in a world that gives us no control. A cancerous death sentence and an unsatisfactory life are the central tenants of his powerlessness, and so what was initially intended as a practical means of sustainability becomes a catalyst to live the existence he always wanted. However, the more control he has--as a drug manufacturer dominating the market-- the more he must 1) be handed wild cards of violence and danger and 2) alter his morality and loyalty to stay afloat. 

On the surface it seems that Breaking Bad is a morality tale of one man gradually entering the dark side. And the show certainly is that. The major turn comes in Season 2 when Walt actively decides not to save Jane, Jessie's girlfriend, from choking on her own vomit after she blackmailed him and threatened to destroy his life. But on a deeper level, the show is also the story of an unpredictable world, one that begins to feel more autonomous than any of the characters! 

By the end of Season 2, glimpses of a teddy bear floating in Walt's pool and wreckage and dead bodies on his driveway reveal themselves as a catastrophic airplane crash. The entire episode reveals itself as a chain reaction of events and ironies resulting in mass deaths. This is not only symbolic for the amorality of Walt's  profession-- making meth and inadvertently destroying lives through drugs-- it's also representative of the manner with which life seems to coordinate our various encounters and decisions to result in something random, unexpected, and seemingly destined. Jane died because Walt went into Jessie's apartment and accidentally let her rest of her back. By letting Jane die, Walt disrupted her father's job as an airline comptroller who, in his grief, allowed the wreckage of two airlines. Walt would never had gone back to Pinkman's apartment if he hadn't encountered her father at a bar, where the father influenced Walt to try and save his loved ones no matter what, in this case Pinkman. But Jane wouldn't have been a junkie if Jessie hadn't reintroduced her (tempted her) to smoke meth. BUT Jessie wouldn't have been smoking so much meth if his friend and dealer hadn't been shot for selling in an unfamiliar gang territory. BUT that wouldn't had happened if Walt hadn't insisted on branching out beyond their own zones of meth-dealing. And so on. 

At the end of Season 2, Walt is in remission and his wife has discovered his secrecy, so she leaves him. Walt is determined to save Pinkman from his guilt and drug addiction because Pinkman is now as close a member of his familial circuit as anyone else. Walt is trying to preserve his loyalty and honor because it's the only thing that prevents him from being an aimless agent acting on his own accord with no purpose.

My favorite episode of Season 3 is the "Fly" episode, because Walt reveals that the night he let Jane die, when he heard Skyler singing to their newborn on the baby monitor, was the night he should have given up. In watching Season 2, this episode takes on a new meaning. This particular introspection from our protagonist and narrative irony is spectacularly magnificent, elevating Breaking Bad not only to one of the best series, but one of the best literary works of our time.

I can not attest that it's the best TV series of all time because I have yet to see every series, but I can certainly attest to its superiority in the vein of narrative achievements. Especially because it stands alone as a 21st century saga of one man versus the world.


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