The Ten Worst Science Fiction Films of All Time: ‘Prometheus’

I feel pretty, and witty, and gay!!!

Ridley Scott's 'Prometheus'

In the late 1970s and early ’80s, British filmmaker Ridley Scott made two of the ten best — hell, two of the five best science fiction films of all time: 1979’s Alien and 1982’s Blade Runner.

In the intervening 30 years, Ridley (now Sir Ridley) made movies about giant-horned devils, suicidal feminists, lady SEALs, historically inaccurate gladiators, charming brain-eating serial killers, and homeless archers. But he did not make another science fiction film.

During those years, I always said I hoped Scott would return to sci-fi. And when I heard that Scott had decided to helm a sequel reboot remake prequel to Alien, I was absolutely thrilled.

Then I saw it.

Like the other films I’ve covered in this series (Battlefield Earth, Pluto NashThe Day the Earth Stood Still (1951), Star Trek V, Alien3, and Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull), Prometheus is not bad the way Plan 9 from Outer Space is bad. Prometheus is well produced, well shot, well designed, and as far as the script allows, well acted. But it is not well written. At all. And compared to what Prometheus could have and should have been, it is a very, very bad film.

This despite the fact that it stars Swedish/Icelandic actor Noomi Rapace, whom I like a lot; German Michael Fassbender, who gives a great performance; and the usually-reliable Charlize Theron who, despite a 17-year film career and an Academy Award™®© for Best Actress in a Film Where You’re Unrecognizable, I will always think of as Arrested Development’s Charlize Theron.

Mr. F!!!

We’ll discuss what went wrong after my patent-pending Bitingly-Sarcastic Plot Synopsis. But first, I will admit that I am breaking one of my original rules for this blog series — I am reviewing two films in the same franchise (Prometheus & Alien3). I know I said I would not do that, but I broke this rule for two reasons; first, I really wanted to write about Prometheus, and second, this frees me up to write about Star Trek: The Motionless Picture.

Ridley Scott has tried to play coy about whether Prometheus is actually a prequel to Alien, but please. The film is chock full of direct visual and thematic references to the earlier film.

And now, my BITINGLY-SARCASTIC PLOT SYNOPSIS (spoilers ahead):

The camera swoops over Iceland. Iceland is cool. I just realized why saying that is mildly humorous.

Ooh, there’s a giant shadow! It must be a spaceship! Yes, a giant disk is floating in the air! Except giant things can’t really “hang in the sky in much the same way that bricks don’t,” as Douglas Adams put it. But whatever. It’s science fiction trope. A tired science fiction trope, but who cares? It’s a Ridley Scott sci-fi movie!

We meet our alien, a muscular albino with Betazed eyes. Normally, this would piss me off – aliens are not going to look like deformed Caucasians – but in this case it’s okay, because these Engineers are supposed to be the progenitors of humankind. We look like them. Of course, this is another tired sci-fi trope, but hey, it’s a Ridley Scott movie!

Whitey McSteroid drinks goop from a bowl as his spaceship takes off. He writhes in pain as mysterious black crap starts tearing apart his DNA. His body crumbles and he falls into the water. Somehow, apparently, this creates humanity, although we don’t know that yet, so I don’t know why I’m telling you now. I guess because the next two hours are going to be confusing, and I want to keep things as straight as I can.

Ridley Scott!

The origin of humankind! Or something.

Cut to the year 2089, according to the titles, although the characters are dressed exactly as they would be in 2012. Apparently, Patagonia’s not going to produce any new styles of winter wear for the next 77 years. Anyway, some archaeologist types are digging around in Scotland, which is over 800 miles from where Frosty O’Slammingbod killed himself with the goop, but okay. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (the real one, not the American one) and Some Actor Who Has Never Been In Anything You’ve Seen climb into a cave, where they come across a cave painting. Dragon Tattoo (fine, her character’s name is Shaw) has dated the painting as “thirty-five thousand years old, maybe older,” a number she seemingly pulled out of her otherwise admirable ass. They find a humanoid figure pointing at six dark splotches, which any reputable archaeologist would immediately recognize as a message from aliens. Like, duh!

No human being could possibly make splotches like that.

Cut to 2093, where the scientific exploration vessel Prometheus is making noise in space. It’s not like that’s a tired trope or anything. Ridley Scott! The ship is 3.27×1014 kilometers from Earth, which is 34.5 light years for the Google-impaired. The only star at this distance is Iota Persei, so if you’re looking for LV-223, there ya go.

The only person awake on board Prometheus is David the Robot, who looks like a Eurotrash mannequin in a Buck Rogers helmet. We know he’s a robot because he walks like he has Sir Ridley’s two Golden Globes stuck up his artificial anus. David spies on the sleeping Shaw who, like all cryogenically frozen people in the future, is dressed in Leeloo’s thermal bandages from The Fifth Element. He uses his Buck Rogers helmet to spy on Shaw’s dream, in which her father, the younger Nite Owl from Watchmen, tells her childhood self about death. What is the significance of this dream? You will have to answer this question in the multiple choice quiz at the end of this film review.

David the Robot wanders around the ship, which is one of those massive, office-building-like, gravity-at-right-angles-to-the-force-of-acceleration spacecraft that will never exist in the real world because they make no sense at all, and are a tired sci-fi trope. (Although, to be fair, it’s been long established in the Alien franchise that spaceships work that way. It’s still tired, though.)

David plays basketball on a bicycle, which is supposed to telegraph to the corn-fed Tea Party mouth-breathers in the audience who haven’t figured it out yet that he is a robot, although I doubt this works. He eats food for some unexplained reason (although I guess Ash, Bishop, and Annalee did too, so okay) and watches videos to learn to speak the Proto-Indo-European language; although as a robot, he should really be able to absorb this material through Bluetooth, but whatever. (I studied PIE in college, so I understood that this is what was going on. Avis akv?sas ka, bitches!!!)

He also watches 1962’s Lawrence of Arabia, and apparently dyes his roots so he will look more like Peter O’Toole. What does this tell us about David’s character? You will have to explain this in the quiz at the end of this film review. Use the back of this page if you need more space.

Prometheus arrives at its destination, a moon orbiting a ringed gas giant. The moon is called LV-223, because the planet in the first two Alien films was called LV-426, and Sir Ridley wants all the fanboys in the audience to say, “ooh, I know what ‘LV’ means! This makes me feel special and loved and like I have a girlfriend!” This despite the fact that Alien franchise fans are just as likely to have a significant other as anyone else, excepting Twilight franchise fans, who are sad and alone and even their cats don’t love them.

All the other characters on the ship wake up. According to the titles there are supposed to be 17 of them, but a number of pedantic fan analyses on the Internet reveal there are actually 18, including David the Robot, but not including the Extra-Special Secret Character We’re Not Supposed to Know Is on the Ship. Perhaps the official crew manifest would not include David, because he is The Robot, and so a piece of equipment and not a member of the crew. But one wonders why the titles, which are not “in-universe” but put there by the screenwriter and director, would have such an anti-robot bias. Commander Data and Tom Servo demand answers, dammit!

The first person to wake up is Charlize Theron, who for unexplained reasons is soaking wet and doing push-ups. I don’t have any complaints about a soaking-wet Charlize Theron, I just want it to illuminate something about her character. This only illuminates something about my libido. Charlize Theron’s character has a name, but in this Bitingly Sarcastic Plot Synopsis, I am going to just call her Charlize Theron; because while there have been a number of films in which Charlize Theron gets lost in her role and you forget you are watching Charlize Theron, this is not one of them.

Everyone gets out of stasis and sits in the dining room drinking shakes, much as everyone did when they first woke up in Alien. For some reason, the ship’s computer describes what everyone is doing while they are doing it. I kept expecting Sigourney Weaver to show up, not as Ripley, but as her Galaxy Quest character, to repeat what the computer was saying.

It’s made clear at this point that the crew have never met each other, and must have been loaded onto Prometheus while still in status. This is weird. They didn’t train together, prepare for the mission together? Of course, the Sir Ridley could have “hung a lampshade” on this, maybe by having the characters mention how weird it was. He did not.

Look at me, I am SO old. So freaking old. I am an old guy.

Charlize Theron shows the crew a holographic video from Peter Weyland (and the fanboys say “ooh! Weyland! Like Weyland-Yutani! I am so cool because I am familiar with Alien franchise trivia! Watching the extended Blu-Ray of Aliens 53 times was so worth it!”) Weland is played by the Guy from Memento (get it? Guy from Memento? Guy???) in truly, genuinely terrible old man makeup. I mean, old man makeup that is just inexcusable for a big-budget feature film made in 2012. Supposedly, there is a reason Guy Pierce played the role in old man makeup, instead of maybe one of Hollywood’s several actors who are actually elderly. According to Pierce, it is because young Weyland was supposed to appear in a dream sequence; but the scene was never shot. This does not explain why young Weyland and old Weyland aren’t played by different actors – it worked great in Looper.

The Weyland hologram introduces Shaw and the other archaeologist, Holloway, to the rest of the crew. Holloway uses a magic Rubik’s cube to show everyone holograms of various artifacts found on Earth. He feeds the crew a pile of warmed-over von Däniken shit about giant aliens leaving messages across various civilizations. Apparently, the six dark splotches in the cave painting can only be interpreted as a map of one particular star system (presumably Iota Persei). Sure. I mean, the filmmakers could have put some actual thought into it; maybe had the ancient petroglyphs contain a code that translates into a particular star’s spectral signature – I dunno, I’ve only been thinking about it for 30 seconds, and they developed this film for ten freaking years.

Ridley Scott!

Shaw reveals that the aliens, whom she has dubbed “Engineers” even though Alien fanboys have been calling them “Space Jockeys” or “Pilots” since 1979, created humanity. When asked to support this assertion, she replies that “it’s what I choose to believe.” How very scientific. Neil deGrasse Tyson would be so proud. This is the first time a supposed scientist acts like an idiot in Prometheus, but it is far from the last.

I don’t know, maybe she just watched the first three minutes of the movie. Anyway, Shaw and Holloway are invited to Inara’s Charlize Theron’s beautifully-appointed lifeboat. Charlize is in full-on Ice Queen mode, even though any tall, blonde actress in Hollywood can play an Ice Queen, so there was no need to waste Charlize Theron’s time. Shaw discovers Charlize’s Med-Pod™, which will figure prominently later. Charlize establishes that she is in fact in charge of the mission, and that Shaw and Holloway are not to make contact with Blondie von Curlandrip if they happen to stumble across him.

The ship has been beaming friendly messages toward the moon, and David the Robot has been teaching himself ancient languages, which Holloway is certain the aliens will speak (although not so certain that he bothered to learn any himself – an archaeologist who speaks ancient languages? That’s unpossible!) The Captain, who is played by That Guy They Say Might Be the First Black James Bond, orders the ship into the moon’s atmosphere.

Out of the entire surface of this entire huge moon, Prometheus manages to immediately stumble upon the correct valley containing the Engineer’s temple. Do they discover this structure through extensive surface scans? Weeks of overflights? An ancient alien map? Nope, Holloway happens to spot it out a window.

I’d like to point something out here, in my capacity as a former archaeology student. Black James Bond lands Prometheus right on the temple site, with no objections from Shaw or Holloway. The spaceship’s engines blow up huge clouds of rock and dust as it lands – the rock and dust from the single most important archaeological site ever discovered. Sure, Idris – land that thing anywhere.

Everyone suits up in their Buck Rogers space gear. I’m not complaining that it’s Buck Rogers space gear; it’s nice to see an unusual design for once. (The original Alien had creative spacesuits as well.) They set out in one nice big logical space SUV — and two small, neon-colored, inexplicable space dune buggies. The same space dune buggies that were used to such beautiful effect in the Citizen Kane of Star Trek films, 2002’s Nemesis. (In case you’re the kind of mouth breather who needed it explained that David the Robot was a robot, that last bit was sarcasm.)

Holloway asks if the giant, hemispherical, hollow temple structure up ahead with the wide, flat paved road leading straight up to it and a circular wall around it is “natural, or did somebody put it there?” Archaeology! Everyone walks right into the structure, because the future doesn’t have these.

This is when the British Geologist Who Is Crazy Although We Don’t Know Why launches his “pups,” levitating neon map-making bowling balls. These balls fly through the alien structure, mapping every room and corridor, and transmitting this map back to Prometheus. This is going to be very important later on, when British Geologist gets lost in the alien structure. That’s right, the guy with an advanced automated 21st Century flying map-making system gets lost. I know that makes no sense at all, but that’s what happens.

I am not making this up.

Holloway notices that, unlike the air on the surface, the atmosphere in the alien temple is breathable by humans. So he takes off his helmet. The International Committee on Abject Stupidity in the Cinema, based out of Basel, Switzerland, has named this action the Dumbest Thing a Fictional Film Character Has Done in a Major Motion Picture since Qui-Gon Jinn invited Jar Jar Binks to hang out with the Jedi Scooby Gang. Do I really have to explain why?

Because he doesn’t know if there are deadly viruses or microbes in the air, that’s why!!! Idiot!!!

Don't take your helmet off on an alien planet!!! Idiot!!!

Well, at least nobody else – no, they all take off their helmets.

David the Robot finds some green CGI goop, on a wall-mounted control panel that the archaeologists completely fail to examine. Of course David touches and sniffs the goop, because that is how science is done. He also, somehow, we never learn how, figures out how to activate the control panel, and with it the temple’s full-immersion holographic system. It replays ancient events in the most convenient way possible – by forcing viewers to run around the ship chasing the holograms.

The holograms lead our protagonists to the corpse of an Engineer, which lost its head when a door closed on its neck. At this point, British Geologist demands to be allowed to return to the ship. Some Internet commentators have complained that no real scientist, even a geologist, would want to leave when presented with evidence of an alien civilization. I personally would not have had a problem with this, if there had eventually been some explanation of British Geologist’s decision, or if it had revealed something about his character.

No, what really, really bothers me is that she ship’s BIOLOGIST goes with him. Yes, a trained biologist, who traveled 35 light years and spent two years in suspended animation, is given the opportunity to be the first person to ever examine the body of an intelligent alien life form – and not only does he not do so, he decides to go back to the ship with the crazy geologist.

Ridley Scott!

David pulls a full-size ladder out of his ass, explaining his gait, and climbs up to look at a control panel, while Shaw and Holloway do their jobs and inspect the alien corpse. David opens the door, despite Shaw’s warning that they “don’t know what’s on the other side.” Well, that’s why you open the door, Dr. Shaw.

Inside they find two heads – the decapitated alien’s little head, and a giant stone humanoid head. The room is also filled with jars which, if you’re an Alien fan, you know is never a good sign. David discovers organic goo coming out of one of the jars, and bags the jar to bring it back to the ship.

The crew members on the Prometheus are surprised to learn that the valley is about to be overtaken by a storm. Just a few hours earlier they were in orbit around the planet, but now the weather is a surprise. Sure.

Shaw packs up the decapitated alien noggin, and she, Holloway, David and Linda Hunt from The Year of Living Dangerously head back to Prometheus in a forced action scene involving the dune buggies. They do not having a flying map machine, but they do not get lost.

British Geologist and The World’s Worst Biologist, who do have the map machine, get lost, as I promised. For some reason they blame Shaw and Holloway for getting lost, which, I mean, huh? They have to spend the night alone in the alien temple, and would have been fine, had they not done anything else stupid.

Shaw, David, Charlize Theron, Holloway (who is suddenly depressed for no reason and chugging liquor) and the ship’s Medic convene in the medical bay to examine the alien head. They figure out that the “Space Jockey” face is actually a helmet, and pull it off, revealing the head of Milky van der Huge. Shaw decides that by electrocuting the head, they can “trick the nervous system into thinking it’s still alive.” I don’t remember seeing that in Renfrew’s Archaeology.

Head go BOOM!!!

The head explodes. Good work, Dr. Shaw.

Later, David is wearing his Buck Rogers helmet and calling someone in a stasis unit “sir.” Who could it be? WHO COULD IT BE??? If you don’t know, you probably voted for Ron Paul and think Snooki is “so talented.”

David then has an altercation with Charlize Theron in the hallway. I would let you in on the point of this encounter if I thought it had one.

Granted, this film does have some very cool little details.

The robot opens the jar he found in the temple, and finds big clear containers of the Black Oil from The X-Files. Meanwhile, Shaw examines the alien DNA with what appears to be a regular optical microscope, and discovers that the alien had human genes – or rather, that humans have alien genes. We already knew this, because we saw the first three minutes of the movie.

David goes to have a chat with Holloway who, if you will remember, has suddenly become a drunk depressive for no logical reason. Oh, but it seems Holloway is upset because there are no living Engineers in the temple, so he cannot live his dream of finding out the answer to the ultimate question of Life, the Universe and Everything (it’s “42”). So, let me try to get this – Holloway has been on LV-223 for less than a day. He has explored one room in one building, and found one alien corpse. And now he has given up completely, without exploring the rest of the temple, or examining the aliens’ holographic record, or looking at Shaw’s genetic results, or maybe even checking out the entire rest of the goddamn planet.

Ridley Scott!

David slips Holloway a Black Oil roofie, for reasons that will presently become clear. I’m just kidding, no they won’t.

Meanwhile, Beavis and Butthead are still lost inside the temple, and are examining a giant pile of dead Engineer corpses when Captain James Bond, back on board Prometheus, detects some kind of life form in the temple. How does he detect the life form? With the British Geologist’s flying map-making system, of course. He asks World’s Worst Biologist for the duo’s current location, which makes no sense, since their current location is being displayed in the holographic display right in front of him. At this point, Laurel and Hardy make the only intelligent decision anyone in this film ever makes, and move away from the life form. (Although any real biologist would want to move toward the life form, even if it were possibly dangerous.)

Shaw and Holloway have a chat in their stateroom, the practical upshot of which is that Shaw is infertile. Then they have sex, although we do not get to see any interesting bits of the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

Captain James Bond and Charlize Theron have a bizarre conversation, in which the Captain comes on to Charlize, she shoots him down, he accuses her of being a robot, and she then changes her mind and decides to have sex with him. We do not get to see the sex scene, or any interesting bits of Charlize Theron. Or Idris Elba, if that’s your thing.

Hey there, buddy! How's it going? Would you let a Penis Snake Creature break your arm and then crawl down your throat? I'm asking for a friend.

Freebie and the Bean end up back in the Head Chamber, where all the jars are now leaking black goo. They discover some kind of Penis Snake Creature swimming through the goo. Some commenters on the World Wide Web have complained that World’s Worst Biologist’s resulting enthusiastic treatment of the Penis Snake Creature makes no sense. This is true in that he’s been fleeing from every sign of alien life up until this point – and now he suddenly wants to do his job? But at least he’s acting like a scientist. You don’t think scientists get all excited by a living thing that promptly kills them? Ask Bindi Irwin about that.

Inevitably, because this is an Alien movie, the Penis Snake attacks the Biologist, wrapping around his arm and snapping it. British Geologist slices its head off, and gets molecular acid all over his helmet for his trouble. The thing grows a new head and climbs down the Biologist’s throat, while the Geologist gets melted helmet glass all over his face.

The next morning, Holloway notices a tiny alien worm crawling around in his eye. He immediately runs to the medical bay and informs everyone – except, of course, he doesn’t. Why would he, except that he’s a trained astronaut and it’s what anyone would do.

Everyone heads back out to the temple to look for Itchy and Scratchy – except David, who has his own sinister agenda, I guess? With Charlize Theron watching from the ship, David goes to a door that one of the flying map-makers found. Beyond the door he finds a giant chamber just jam-packed with goo jars. Beyond this is a control chamber containing four Engineers in suspended animation. (See, Holloway? Maybe you should try a door before you give up exploring.) David cuts the feed to Charlize Theron. If only there were some way she could see the room for herself, maybe by putting on a damn spacesuit and driving a dune buggy a quarter of a mile…

Everyone else is in the Head Chamber, where they have discovered all the leaking goo. No one puts their helmet back on, despite the fact that they don’t know what the goo does. They find the Geologist, who appears dead – and a snake creature bursts out of his throat! Meanwhile, Holloway has gotten sick, and Shaw wants to take him back to the ship.

Somehow David can operate the Engineers’ technology, which is controlled by a series of glowing silicon breast implants. The holograms come to life, and David learns that the alien spacecraft’s systems are controlled via flute. No really, a flute. The kind you blow into and make music with. A flute.

Ridley Scott!

 I feel pretty, and witty, and gay!!!

There’s a cool scene with a gigantic CGI armillary sphere, which is very pretty but doesn’t answer any of our nagging questions. Then, one of the Engineers begins to wake up.

Everyone else arrives back at Prometheus to find Charlize Theron guarding the door with a flamethrower. (I’m pretty sure all spaceships have a flamethrower. Doesn’t the International Space Station have a flamethrower?) Guy, who is monstering-out into some kind of space zombie (that looks suspiciously like Old Man Guy Pierce – must be the same makeup guy), forces Charlize Theron to kill him. Shaw is very upset about this; it’s refreshing at this point to see someone other than Michael Fassbender actually acting.

Shaw wakes up in the medical bay, where David informs her that she is “pregnant.” What he means to say is that she “has a parasitic alien life form living in her lower abdomen,” but he decides to say “pregnant.” David is such a wag. Shaw freaks out, and David tries a tactic directly from the Carter Burke playbook, suggesting that Shaw go back into stasis so they can solve the issue back on Earth. Shaw is not down with this, so David drugs her.

Later, two crew members try to take Shaw to stasis – she whacks them both on the head with a giant wrench someone left lying around on the medical table, and takes off to Charlize Theron’s lifepod. She turns on the Med-Pod™, which informs Shaw that it is “calibrated for male patients only,” which makes no sense, but is supposed to be a clue that there’s someone else on the ship.

Aww, look at the little fella! I think it's a boy!

Shaw gets in anyway and gives herself a xeno-abortion. This is supposed to be a very intense, very graphic, and quite shocking scene – and I’m sure in 1979, or even 1989, it would have been. But after 30 years of David Cronenberg movies, well, I’m afraid we’ve seen all this before, Sir Ridley. Sorry.

Anyway, Shaw gets the Space Squid out of her belly (I liked the bit with the staples), and escapes.

Please note that Shaw will spend the rest of the film walking, running, climbing, and jumping with a major surgical incision and with her abdominal muscles cut. Because science.

Hi there. I hope you enjoyed my performance as Johnny Utah's partner in 'Point Break.'

At this point the dead corpse of British Engineer shows up at the ship, all zombied-out and acting like that kid in The Grudge. Was British Engineer ever exposed to the goo? I guess he could have been when he was dead in the Head Room, but we never saw this happen.

Let’s take a moment here to examine the Engineers’ Black Alien Goo Technology, shall we?

When black goo is spilled on the ground, it creates Penis Snake Creatures that burrow into your esophagus and kill you. When someone drinks black goo, it gives them eye worms and turns them into a Space Zombie. When someone female has sex with someone who drank black goo, they get “pregnant” with a Space Squid (even if they are infertile). When a corpse is introduced to black goo, it comes back to life.

I’d like to see that marketing meeting back on the Engineer home world. “Black Goo™! It’s multipurpose! If your interplanetary business concern is in need of large quantities of Penis Snakes, Space Squids, or Space Zombies, then Black Goo™ is for you! Looking for violent animated corpses? Give Black Goo™ a try! Leaky jars of Black Goo™ are ready to be shipped to your planet. Purchase Black Goo™ today!”

Shaw, stumbling and covered in blood, stumbles on a tremendous surprise, one worthy of M. Night Shyamalan back in the years when M. Night Shyamalan was making good movies (you know, 1999-2000). I know there is no way to have predicted this – we weren’t given any clues – but Old Man Guy Pierce is on the Prometheus! I know!

David reveals that Ghosty McLargeHuge is waking up in the temple, and he and Guy are off to see him. Turns out Weyland thinks the Engineers can provide him with immortality; which is a strange thing to think, since the temple is piled high with Engineer corpses.

Shaw insists that the Prometheus leave the moon. Now granted, we have had a bunch of deaths and a Space Squid pregnancy; and Shaw’s boyfriend looks like an overdone s’more. But I really don’t think, even after everything that has happened, that an archaeologist would want to actually leave. Perhaps some kind of “don’t touch the black goo, take your helmet off, or bring alien heads into the ship” policy could be instigated; then the temple could be explored in relative safety. Anyway, when Guy insists that they stay and try to discover answers, he actually sounds like the reasonable one.

Shaw pops some painkillers and suits up to follow Guy and David to the temple. Captain James Bond, who hasn’t bothered to have an actual opinion the whole movie, is suddenly convinced that the temple is a military installation, and the black goo is a “weapon of mass destruction.” I dunno, Idris – while I too fear the Penis Snake/Space Squid/Space Zombie-Industrial Complex, I don’t know that it rises to the level of nuclear bombs or weaponized ebola.

Charlize Theron visits Guy, and we learn to our shock, amazement, astonishment, astoundment, bewilderment, shock, stupefaction, and wonderment that she is his daughter! Gosh! This is such an important revelation, because… I got nothing. Although I must admit this scene gives Charlize an opportunity to actually emote for the first time in the film.

One of 'Prometheus'' many, many driving-between-the-ship-and-the-temple scenes.

Guy, David, Shaw, and some redshirts head back to the temple and into the control room; while back on Prometheus, Captain James Bond figures out that the area the group is entering is actually a ship (the same kind of ship the Nostromo crew found in Alien! And the fanboys stain their pants!).

Somehow David has figured out that 2,000 years ago, when the Engineers on the ship were killed by… well, we never find out, they had been on the verge of visiting Earth, where they planned to use the black oil to destroy humanity. David leads Guy to the living Engineer, and uses his supernatural powers of knowing-how-alien-technology-works to bring the alien out of stasis.

Dude -- who are you, and what are you doing in my bedroom?

Powder McHardPeck rises out of his sleeping pod and takes a look at the motley crew of humans, robots, and unconvincingly made-up old men standing around him. Shaw demands of the alien to know why the Engineers wanted to annihilate humanity – but Guy doesn’t care about that. He just wants learn the secret of immortality.

Davids speaks to the alien in Proto-Indo-European, because obviously this alien guy was hanging around in Neolithic Anatolia, right? Some people on the ‘Tubes have tried to work out what David says to the alien; I’ve got it narrowed down to three possibilities:

“This man is here because he does not want to die. He believes you can give him more life.”

or

“Can you recommend a better agent? I’m firing the guy who put me in this unholy mess. I was in Inglourious Basterds, verdammt noch mal!

or

“Is Alien vs. Predator canonical?”

Whatever David says, Cracker von ManMuscle responds by ripping the robot’s head off and smacking Guy across the face with it. (Boy, the Alien franchise sure has a thing about ripping robot heads off – first Ash, then Bishop, now David.) While the alien kills everyone else, Shaw hoofs it. Guy Pierce dies; watching from the ship, Charlize Theron orders the ship to take off.

Pasty Beefcakestein climbs into a giant spaceship control doohickey, which looks exactly like the giant spaceship control doohickey the dead Space Jockey was sitting in from Alien. He starts up the Space Donut’s engines, which blow Shaw bodily out onto the surface.

A colossal dilating door over the Space Donut begins to open, and Shaw, who you will remember has an unhealed 15cm incision in her belly, deftly runs back toward Prometheus, leaping gracefully over the opening door’s segments.

Shaw warns Captain James Bond that if the Space Donut makes it to Earth, humanity will be destroyed. She knows that the Space Donut’s destination is Earth because… um… something David said, I guess?

The Captain orders Charlize Theron to get to the escape pod – he’s decided to kill himself by flying Prometheus into the Space Donut, based on something Shaw told him over the radio that she heard from David, who may or may not have known what he was talking about. This type of bravery and sacrifice is exactly what we’ve come to expect from such a rich and deeply drawn character. He orders his two bridge buddies to go with Charlize, but for absolutely no reason whatsoever they decide to stay with the Captain and die.

Good thing that Alien Space Donuts don't have shields, or defenses, or anything.

Charlize Theron ejects and safely reaches the surface, while the Captain flies Prometheus slam-bang into the Space Donut. The alien ship falls, and starts rolling along the moon’s surface like a hula hoop, directly towards Shaw and Charlize Theron. The two ladies start running – not left, not right, but in a straight line right ahead of the rolling Space Donut. Many Internet commenters have identified this as the Dumbest Thing in a Pretty Dumb Film, Prometheus’ “nuke the fridge” moment.

Shaw trips, but manages to somehow roll out of the way of the Space Donut; Charlize Theron gets squashed flatter than a pannekoek. (Because Charlize Theron is South African. Jesus, people, do I have to explain all the jokes?)

Shaw only has two minutes of oxygen remaining (why? She wasn’t in the temple that long!) so she heads to Charlize’s downed lifepod. She hears a noise, so she grabs an axe – doesn’t every spaceship have an axe? Peering into the Med-Pod™ chamber, she discovers that the adorable baby Space Squid she tried to abort has been getting on fine without Mommy. Indeed, it has grown to enormous size, despite the fact that there is nothing in the Med-Pod™ chamber for it to eat. (If you’ll remember, the newborn xenomorph in Alien pulled the same trick, growing to monstrous size before it had a chance to eat anyone.)

Do not want!!!

Shaw gets a Bluetooth call from David’s decapitated head, who warns her that Chalky O’Proteinshake survived the crash and is on his way. Just then the alien rushes in – Shaw screams “die!!!!” (no, really), and opens the door to the Med-Pod™ chamber. Her tentacled crotchfruit seizes the Engineer by the neck and starts making sweet, sweet squid love to him.

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.

Leaping from the lifepod without ripping open her massive surgical wound, somehow, Shaw rolls to safety. The Space Squid opens its Lovecraftian maw (very nice creature design, quite impressive), and X-Ray McJackLaLanne gets an ovipositor rammed down his throat.

David raises Shaw on Skype, and informs her that there are other, working Space Donuts, a fact that he conveniently pulls out of his ass despite the fact that his ass is on the other side of the control chamber. She rejoins David, and informs him they will not be flying to Earth – they will be seeking out the Engineer homeworld, although why she’s expecting a better reception there is anyone’s guess.

Shaw and David fly off into the unknown, and we want two hours of our lives back.

Maybe it's named after the brother in 'Bill & Ted?'

But wait! There’s more! Pasty von NordicTrack is lying on the floor of the lifepod, writhing, his chest about to pop. Out of his tummy comes – well, it’s not the standard xenomorph, that’s for sure. It even has an umbilical cord and afterbirth, ewwww. Fanboys on the Internet call it the “Deacon,” I don’t know why.

It screams, even though in space, no one can hear it.

End of Bitingly Sarcastic Plot Synopsis.

Yikes.

Most online critics of Prometheus blame the screenplay; and they primarily point to writer Damon “Nash Bridges” Lindelof, who also wrote the disappointing Cowboys & Aliens. Wait, they’re letting this guy write Star Trek Into Darkness and Brad Bird’s Tomorrowland? Shit.

A lot of Internet commenters defend this film. The general gist of this defense is that Prometheus is neither incomprehensible nor badly written — it’s deep, see, full of mysteries and grand themes, and the only reason you don’t understand it is because you’re not smart enough.

This reminds me of Objectivists’ defense of Ayn Rand. It’s not that Rand’s ideas are childish, absurd, and vaguely reprehensible — it’s that you’re not smart enough to understand her! Yes, I just compared Prometheus to Atlas Shrugged. Deal with it.

If you are one of these people who thinks that Prometheus is the most intellectually challenging film since The Seventh Seal, I would like you to take the following quiz. Indeed, let’s all play along, and see how many questions we can answer. Show your work, keep your eyes on your own paper, you have 30 minutes starting now.

  1. Why does the Engineer at the beginning of the film have to die to seed the Earth with alien DNA? Wouldn’t a tissue sample work just as well? Can you really “seed” a biosphere by pouring DNA into a waterfall?
  2. How does Prometheus explore the theme of creation?  The Engineers create mankind, and mankind creates the Synthetics. Does the way David behaves towards humans echo the way humans behave toward the Engineers? It doesn’t? Well, shouldn’t it have? How about the other way around? No? Then what were Scott and Lindelof trying to say? Explain like I’m five.
  3. Explain Charlize Theron’s character’s purpose in the story. No really, because I have no idea — she complains a lot and then gets smushed. Also, why is it significant that she is Weyland’s daughter? How does this tie into themes of creation? It doesn’t? Then what was the point?
  4. David seems to have been acting under Weyland’s orders. So why does Weyland want Holloway infected with the black goo? Did he know what would happen? Weyland is terrified of his own death — wouldn’t performing unauthorized human experiments involving alien weapons of mass destruction, on the very same ship Weyland is on, place Weyland’s life in danger? What did Weyland and David learn from infecting Holloway? Nothing? Then what was the point? Also, if Weyland is afraid of dying, why does he go on a dangerous space mission? Why not stay in stasis on Earth, and wait for David to bring back the secret? Also also, why does Weyland keep his presence on Prometheus secret? What’s the point?
  5. The Engineers build a military installation on a distant moon, staff it with lots of Engineers, and equip it with a bunch of alien spacecraft. Something goes wrong, a bunch of Engineers die, and the last one goes into hypersleep for 2,000 years. Wait, what? Where is the rest of the Engineer race? Why doesn’t a rescue party ever show up? Why don’t they at least recover the expensive spaceships? If it was so important that the black goo get to Earth, why didn’t anyone ever take it there?
  6. How did David know how to operate all the alien technology? How did David know that the Engineers planned to use the black goo on humans? How did he know that the surviving alien planned to take the spaceship to Earth, rather than somewhere else, like his homeworld? Is basing major plot points on characters knowing things they couldn’t possibly know a statement on Western mores in a post-modern sociopolitical milieu, or is it just shitty writing?
  7. Shaw, Holloway, and Weyland share one attribute: they all believe that the Engineers created humanity, and can therefore answer of all humanity’s fundamental questions about the meaning of life and the nature of the universe. Yet this belief is just a given — no one ever explains or defends it. Explain or defend the idea that if aliens exist, they must know all the answers to the uniquely human philosophical questions we all ask. What do you mean, you can’t? Do it anyway!
  8. Apparently, Charlize Theron’s character and the Captain have sex. How does this development comment on modern sexual politics? It doesn’t? Then what does it tell us about the characters? Nothing? Then how does it propel the story forward? It doesn’t? Then explain why Charlize Theron and the Captain have sex. Also, explain why we don’t get to see it.
  9. After his ship crashes, the awakened alien goes to the lifepod to try to kill Shaw. How does he know Shaw is there? And why does he care? Why doesn’t he just go to another ship and fly wherever he was going?
  10. When the party from Prometheus first encounters the Head Chamber, the murals start dissolving and the jars start leaking goo. Why? It was established that the atmosphere in the temple was safe for humans (and presumably, Engineers). Was the atmosphere in the Head Room different? Why? Why didn’t the jars in the Cargo Hold leak when David breached that room? Wouldn’t jars designed to hold dangerous alien goo be designed to not leak? Nobody in the temple was expecting humans to show up, right?
  11. In order to get anything approaching a xenomorph, you have to feed black goo to a human; that human has to have sex with a human female; that female has to give birth to a space squid; that squid has to impregnate an Engineer. So why was there a carving of a xenomorph in the Head Chamber?
  12. What killed the Engineers, and why didn’t it show up on the holographic record? Or leave behind a corpse? When the last Engineer woke up, why wasn’t he concerned that there might be some kind of deadly creature around? Why wasn’t he prepared to run into the space squid? The Prometheus was full of weapons; what about the alien ship? Weren’t there any alien weapons, or armor?
  13. Why would the Engineers leave behind clues on Earth that would lead a spacefaring humanity to their bioweapons testing facility; especially when, 2,000 years before humanity could develop spaceflight, they decided to destroy humanity anyway?
  14. Are ancient-Earth-vising humanoid aliens with a scheme to destroy humanity, round alien spaceships stored underground, black alien goo, a sinister and secretive older man who runs a shadowy cabal, and a male-female pair of investigators a tribute to The X-Files, or just plagiarism? Describe the lawsuit you would file if you were Chris Carter.
  15. What was the green goo that David found on the control panel? How does it relate to the black goo? Why is the Captain a fan of a musician from the 1960s? I’m not a fan of any musicians from the 1860s. When Shaw stumbles upon Weyland on Prometheus, why doesn’t anyone ask her why she’s naked and covered in blood with giant wound in her belly? What does the fact that Shaw’s father died of ebola tell us about her character? What does the fact that the alien’s head blew up tell us about the aliens? Why does the last Engineer just attack everyone, instead of first trying to find out why there are humans on his ship, or how long he has been asleep, or whether the dangerous creature that killed all the other Engineers is still around, or what the heck is going on? When a dead crew member shows up outside Prometheus looking like Pizza the Hut, why isn’t anyone alarmed? What does David’s Lawrence of Arabia obsession tell us about him? If Weyland thought his daughter wasn’t going to be coming on the mission, then how were the lavishly-appointed lifepod and Med-Pod going to be explained? Why would that console at the front of Prometheus’ bridge require its operator to stand? Why was the alien spaceship covered by a dilating door, when iris-style doors are really inefficient? If Prometheus’ ATV could detect that the temple was hollow, why couldn’t it detect the hollow space below the ground where the spaceship was hidden? Why was David able to go right to the door to the spaceship, but the two lost scientists never came across it? Why does the alien spacecraft’s piloting seat look like a giant gun? If Prometheus has artificial gravity, why does it need rockets to fly? If Shaw wants to locate the Engineer homeworld, why go there with only a homicidal robot for company? Why not go to Earth, get some help, and then go?
  16. Some people on the Internet think Prometheus is some sort of “space Jesus” parable. Are these people crazy, or stupid? Defend your diagnosis.

Okay, pencils down.

Unfortunately, after years of waiting, we got another Ridley Scott science fiction film, and it kind of sucked. Apparently there is the possibility there will be a sequel to Prometheus; and yes, I will go see it, just like I’m going to go see Star Wars: Episode VII — I mean, it has to be better, right?

I think what this comes back to, though, is something I’ve said multiple times in multiple venues: leave old franchises alone. Let Alien die; let Star Trek die; let Indiana Jones die; let Star Wars die. I love all these franchises, but let’s get some new ideas, fresh characters, and original stories. Are you out of ideas, Hollywood? I have plenty. Email me.

Next time: Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979).

Disagree with me? (Sigh. Of course you do.) Leave your reasoned and non-trolly comment below!

The 8 Dumbest Alien Invasion Plans in Cinema

Look out, alien dude! It's water!

Any reasonable person must agree that there is life in space, even if we haven’t discovered any direct evidence for it yet. And speaking statistically (look up Drake’s Equation), there must be other intelligent, tool-using life forms with whom we could conceivably communicate.

If I were forced to place a bet, I’d say that the human race will never encounter another intelligent species, if only because they will be so remote in space and time. I’d like to be wrong, and I sincerely hope that SETI will identify an artificial radio signal before I die. That would be preferable to actual alien visitors, who may wish to invade, or exploit us, or force their culture on us, or accidentally kill us all off with alien viruses. Or anally probe us.

If the aliens do decide to invade our world, I hope they are as stupid as the aliens in many science fiction films. I guess if you postulate that a species that is technologically far superior to our own wants to kill or exploit us, humanity’s only hope is that the aliens are unaccountably stupid. Of course, a science fiction author can postulate intellectually inferior extraterrestrials who nonetheless make use of advanced space flight technology, a la Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle’s Footfall. But the explanation for the aliens’ cretinousness must be compelling.

The actual explanation for why movie aliens are so dumb? Lazy writing, and/or film producers and studio execs who don’t understand science fiction. Instead of inventing plausible circumstances under which humans could defeat aliens, they cheat.

There is a second option, what I call the Robotech Option – let the aliens win. On Robotech, the scrappy crew of the SDF-1 must protect the Earth from the Zentraedi fleet. How can one ship defeat over a 4.8 million alien warships? The answer – it can’t. The Earth is destroyed. Humanity does eventually eliminate the Zentraedi threat through cultural imperialism (Chinese pop singers as deadly alien-slaying viruses), yet the damage to Earth is done.

But movie studios seem to feel uncomfortable with the Robotech Option, so they make the aliens idiots. Here are the 10 dumbest alien invasions from cinema.

The ground rules:

1.) I’m only doing movies. Stupid alien invasions from novels, television, video games, comic books and the works of Harry Turtledove will have to be dealt with another time.
2.) I’m not reviewing or criticizing the film itself. I am taking its depiction of alien invasion at face value, and mocking the foolishness of the aliens.
3.) The aliens must be invading; idiotic behavior from friendly or neutral aliens will not be covered.
4.) As always, please read the whole damn article before commenting.

That's great, stay in that position. The reception is perfect!

That's great, stay in that position. The reception is perfect!

8. Robot Monster, 1953

The Great Guidance, the leader of an alien world populated by large gorillas wearing diving helmets, decides that humanity must be destroyed. He sends Ro-Man, another large gorilla wearing a diving helmet, to Earth, armed with nothing but a Calcinator Death Ray device and a bubble-making machine.

Ro-Man uses the Calcinator Ray to kill every human being on Earth except for eight – six people hiding in a suburban tract house and two on board an orbiting space station. All eight are immune to the Calcinator Ray because they took a serum developed by the last living scientist. Yes, a serum that protects you from a death ray. Accepting this at face value, shouldn’t the aliens who invented the Calcinator have known it could be defeated with a serum? Instead of a weapon the operation of which depends on the blood chemistry of its targets, perhaps they should have just brought along nuclear warheads.

Anyway. Ro-Man tries to kill the last humans, but their tract house is defended by an invisible force field – so invisible in fact, that the filmmakers felt no need to represent it using special effects. The obvious question is, why does Ro-Man care that there are still six humans left on Earth? What could those six humans possibly do to harm him? They’re trapped behind their force field, stuck in a tract house!

In the end, Ro-Man falls in love with the last hot chick, despite the fact she’s a nearly hairless alien primate who doesn’t have the decency to wear a diving helmet. This is a common theme in stories about unsuccessful alien invasions – the aliens fall in love with humans because we’re so darned irresistible (see Robotech and the reimagined Battlestar Galactica). For some reason, it’s okay for Max to sleep with Miriya, or Helo to sleep with Athena, or Winona Ryder to sleep with Sarek – but if that guy in Clerks 2 bangs a donkey, it’s disgusting. Why is inter-species sex okay if it’s with aliens?

The Great Guidance is disgusted with this xenophilia, and destroys the Earth — humans, Ro-Man and all. This raises two questions. One, if you’re willing to destroy the Earth, why bother to selectively wipe out humans first? And second, if The Great Guidance can blow up the Earth from his throne room on the alien home world, then why send Ro-Man in the first place?

If you’ve seen this movie, you know that at the end it all turns out to have been a dream, Bobby Ewing/St. Elsewhere style, which cinema experts all agree if the worst possible way to end a movie. Well, except an ending where you gratuitously kill off Book and Wash.

No, I'm not too busy to flirt with you! I'm just running the whole damn Borg Collective!

No, I'm not too busy to flirt with you! I'm just running the whole damn Borg Collective!

7.) Star Trek: First Contact, 1996; Star Trek, 2009

While probably the best of the Next Generation films, First Contact is riddled with silly plot elements. The only one we’ll worry about here is the Borg plan to finally defeat humanity once and for all. (No other species had been able to withstand the Borg – humans are just that special.)

The Borg, apparently frustrated that resistance has in fact not been futile, decide to attack the Earth directly. There are millions, maybe billions of Borg Cubes out there, but the Borg are feeling economical and decide to send only one. Despite their far superior scientific and technical knowledge, the Borg have apparently forgotten that Jean-Luc Picard, the former Locutus of Borg, can psychically locate all the defensive weaknesses in a Borg Cube. (It was established in the first Borg episode that Borg Cubes are too undifferentiated to have defensive weaknesses, but whatever.)

The Enterprise-D destroys the Cube, so the Borg go to Plan B – travel back in time and assimilate Earth in the 21st Century. Time travel in the Star Trek universe is ridiculously easy, so one wonders why no one ever tried this before. Picard and his crew go back in time and, taking advantage of certain long-standing tactical weaknesses on the part of the Borg, save humanity.

What tactical weaknesses?

1.) Well, there’s the aforementioned only bringing one Cube, instead of two, or 20, or 10,000. That’s a biggie.

2.) The Borg ignore any individual alien who isn’t currently threatening them, which means you can beam onto a Borg Cube and walk around freely, as long as you don’t touch anything. This is a very poor security philosophy.

3.) The Borg need only to destroy Zephram Cochrane’s warp ship. Yet they waste time and resources invading the Enterprise and assimilating its crew, trying to assimilate Commander Data, and building a transmitter to phone home. Here’s a tip for the Borg Queen: blow up the Phoenix, blow up the Enterprise, and then spend the next 500 years leisurely doing whatever else you feel like.

This explains why Admiral Janeway is able to single-handedly destroy the Borg Collective in the last episode of Voyager. Apparently, one of the things the Borg assimilated from thousands of conquered races across the galaxy was the ubiquitous humanoid trait of bone-headedness.

Lots of starship captains have scepters!

Lots of starship captains have scepters!

Note: Star Trek (2009), Watchmen (2009) spoilers ahead!

On a side note, in J. J. Abrams’ generally excellent film Star Trek, the Romulan Nero takes advantage of an accidental time travel incident to try to destroy the Federation. He makes several idiotic errors that doom his scheme:

1.) He waits around for 25 years until Spock arrives from the future, as Nero wants Nimoy/Spock to witness the obliteration of the planet Vulcan. One assumes that Nimoy/Spock would have been just as unhappy with his home world’s destruction if Nero had destroyed it at once. Anyway, this is a common supervillain blunder, requiring the hero to be present at the moment of triumph. Nero should have taken notes from Ozymandius.

2.) Nero seems to think that you can’t destroy a planet with a black hole unless you drill a hole to the planet’s core first. Believe me, just toss a singularity in the general direction of a planet and a few minutes later, you won’t have a planet anymore. Compare Nero to Gran Moff Tarkin – when Tarkin wants a planet destroyed, he just destroys it. No gloating, no fuss.

John, you'd better check that e-meter...

John, you'd better check that e-meter...

6.) Battlefield Earth (2000)

I have already dissected and ridiculed Battlefield Earth in great detail here. But to recap – if you’re going to invade the Earth and enslave its population, don’t leave advanced alien military technology lying around unguarded. Also, if the atmosphere of your home world can be destroyed by a single nuclear explosion, don’t put warheads and interplanetary teleport devices where humans can get at them. Also, don’t put Vinnie Barbarino in charge.

Ziggy Stardust meets "V."

Ziggy Stardust meets"V."

5.) The Man Who Fell to Earth (1976)

The Man Who Fell to Earth is a funky 70s cult adaptation of Walter Tevis’ classic sci-fi novel. Although far, far better than Robot Monster, it follows the same idea that aliens would send a single individual to invade the Earth.

There are certainly differences. The alien, Thomas Jerome Newton, is attempting to bring to Earth the last remnants of his ancient race, which is just a few hundred people. The aliens don’t really intend to “invade” the Earth, except insofar as they want to colonize Earth secretly and without permission. Then they hope to live in peace with humanity.

Also, there is a good reason they only send one invader – they don’t have the ability to send anyone else, as their civilization has collapsed. Newton’s plan is to patent advanced alien technology, make a billion bucks, and then build a spaceship that can fly home, pick everyone up, and bring them back.

Unfortunately, Newton blows the whole scheme by letting his friends know he’s an alien. His girlfriend (inter-species sex again!) freaks out and dumps him, and his supposed best friend Judases him out to the Feds.

The government kidnaps Newton and “accidentally” blinds him, leaving him powerless to complete his mission. It was a weak and pathetic plan that fails weakly and pathetically.

I bring you a message from the White People of the galaxy!

I bring you a message from the White People of the galaxy!

4.) The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951)

Here’s another so-called classic that I have already eviscerated. But to recap: A single alien invader named Klaatu, accompanied only by his giant robot friend Gort, has a message to deliver to the nations of the world, preferably through the United Nations. So of course he lands in Washington, DC, which is not where the UN is located. The US government thinks he’s a Communist, and won’t listen to him. Nor has Klaatu apparently ever heard of television.

Instead of delivering his message, perhaps by flying around the world in his saucer and speaking to individual leaders, or by showing up at the actual UN, or by using television (did I mention that in 1951, people had television? They also had this advanced technology called radio. And telephones. And the US Postal Service…), Klaatu spends most of the movie hanging out with a widow and her young son. Why? I don’t know.

Klaatu gets killed and brought back to life, and at the very end of the movie delivers his message, which is that the Earth is to be monitored by giant alien robots, and will be destroyed if humans show any signs of hostility. Then he leaves. The end.

The invasion plan (send giant alien robots to rule over humanity) actually goes without a hitch, as there’s nothing humanity can do to stop it. But the rest of the plan is just stupid. Klaatu never had to land or leave his saucer. He could just broadcast a message, and then pull the whole “cancel all the Earth’s electricity” trick to prove he’s serious. No one gets hurt, and Patricia Neal gets to marry her evil dick boyfriend.

Which brings us to…

Dude, I was totally supposed to bring you this message, but now I totally forgot what it was. Are you holding?

Dude, I was totally supposed to bring you this message, but now I totally forgot what it was. Are you holding?

3.) The Day the Earth Stood Still (2008)

If there was any film that could benefit from a remake, it was The Day the Earth Stood Still. Unfortunately, the new version is just a dumb as the old one, albeit in different ways.

This time, Klaatu actually lands in New York, near the UN. He is kidnapped by the government, where he meets Jennifer Connelly. With her help, Klaatu escapes and meets with an alien spy. Gort gets locked in a missile silo. Grey goo threatens the world. Klaatu stops the goo and dies.

Um.. what?

The only part of the plan that makes sense is the hanging out with Jennifer Connelly part. Even a cloned space alien portrayed by a closeted gay actor would want to date Jennifer Connelly.

The alien plan is this: humans are destroying Earth’s precious ecosystem, and this upsets the aliens, so the aliens decide to annihilate the ecosystem — all of it, rendering Earth uninhabited. Yes, really.

Sure, afterward they will recreate Earth’s biosphere using samples collected by Klaatu. But seriously, kill every living thing on Earth in order to save every living thing on Earth (except humans)? Why not just kill the humans?

Once again, Earth is saved by human-alien bumpty-humpty. Well, not really — Klaatu and Jennifer Connelly never do it, because Keanu Reeves is no longer permitted to film sex scenes after Matrix Reloaded. But Klaatu decides to save humanity because Jennifer Connelly was so nice to him. And somehow, this failure to destroy the Earth is going to be accepted by the other aliens? But dudes, Jennifer Connelly is smoking hot! Whoa!

Hey, have you seen my contact lens?

Hey, have you seen my contact lens?

2.) The War of the Worlds (1953), The War of the Worlds (2005), Independence Day (1996)

When H.G. Wells published The War of the Worlds in 1898, the way in which the aliens were defeated was novel and clever. Now, not so much.

In the 1953 film, Martians send hundreds of their Tripod killing machines to Earth, and start systematically wiping out cities. Humanity tries nukes, but the Tripods have impenetrable force shields. That’s the whole plan, really.

Unfortunately, it never occurs to the Martians that they might be vulnerable to Earth diseases, so they fail to wear space suits, or seal the airlocks on their tripods, or filter their air, or get vaccinations; and all the aliens die from a virus. Through an incredible stroke of luck, the aliens don’t bring with them (intentionally or unintentionally) any Martian viruses, so humanity is saved. Hooray!

After falling in love with a human, the second most popular example of alien invader stupidity is forgetting to invent the space suit.

The film also suggests that prayer helped defeat the aliens, which is total bullshit.

Must... have... Nyquil Cold & Sinus...

Must... have... Nyquil Cold & Sinus...

Steven Spielberg’s 2005 version, which I enjoyed quite a bit, is pretty much the same, which is why it doesn’t get its own entry on this list. This time the Martian tripods have been buried in the Earth’s crust for thousands of years. This weirdness is never explained, although I guess we could come up with a variety of ways to retcon it.

In this film the aliens bring along H.G. Wells’ Red Weed, although apparently this rapidly-growing plant requires human blood in order to grow. How amazing that something which evolved to feed on human blood did that evolving on Mars. (I know, it could have been genetically engineered. But when all the humans are dead, how will the Martians feed it?)

Again, the aliens forget to invent the space suit, and Earth viruses kill them and their Red Weeds. The film possibly hints at a reason – when we see the actual Martians, they look and act like children. Are the invaders the descendants of a once proud but fallen race, like Thomas Jerome Newton? Have they forgotten to wear space suits, or maybe they just can’t read the instructions? Or perhaps those were highly intelligent, adult Martians with giant eyes, who idiotically forgot about communicable diseases.

Now, when I say "go," you press Apple+Shift+V...

Now, when I say "go," you press Apple+Shift+V...

The 1996 alien invasion film Independence Day attempts a clever riff on the War of the Worlds’ defeat-by-virus theme, but in this case, instead of never inventing space suits (the aliens do have those), they never invent Norton Anti-Virus. Somehow, genius cable repairman Jeff Goldblum is able to create a computer virus that shuts down the aliens’ force shields. Yes, Goldblum had access to decades worth of alien research from Area 51, but still – infecting the alien computer system with a virus using a Mac Powerbook?

A note to all alien invaders – update your virus definitions and employ a decent firewall. A decent IT department is the key to any interplanetary invasion. And for chrissakes, get vaccinated!

I am sure glad God is going to save us from these evil aliens He created...

I am sure glad God is going to save us from these evil aliens He created...

1.) Signs (2002)

The alien invasion plan in M. Night Shyamalamahammy’s Signs is the granddaddy of all idiotic alien invasion plans. (No, I am not making fun of Indian people and their names. I am making fun of M. Night Shamalamadingdong and his stage name – his real name is Manoj Nelliyattu Shyamalan.)

Let me just say that I really enjoyed Signs. Seriously. I enjoyed it so thoroughly in fact, that I was out of the theater before I realized hey wait a minute – that made no sense whatsoever!

Here’s the alien plan:

Step 1: Communicate our plans for invasion by creating crop circles. Everyone knows that cerealogical communication is far superior to such primitive methods as radio waves.

Step 2: Jump around on people’s roofs, and disturb their birthday parties.

Step 3: Be completely unaware of how to open a door. Make sure you have no weapons, or other devices that might help you open a door. Breaking windows is also taboo.

Step 4: Knock humans unconscious with the gas our alien bodies produce, and drag them to our invisible saucers, presumably to eat them. Or probe them anally. Or suck out their blood and feed it to the Red Weed. Whatever.

Step 5: ???

Step 6: Profit!

But the most important part of the aliens’ plan is this: Our bodies react to water as if it were acid. So when invading a planet which is 70% covered with water, the atmosphere of which contains water, so much so that the water forms clouds and precipitation, absolutely do not wear any protective clothing or gear whatsoever. I’m sure that if humans ever visited a planet with methane seas and a methane atmosphere, they’d just run around naked like we’re doing.

Be sure to check out my series on the Ten Worst Sci-Fi Films of All Time!

The Ten Worst Sci-Fi Films of All Time: Alien3

Hey baby, want a kiss?

For more on how I am choosing these films, see my post on Battlefield Earth.

Long long ago, in the before time, during the Carter administration, a plucky young filmmaker named Ridley Scott made a little film called Alien.

Scott would direct Blade Runner three years later. This means one man directed two of the ten best sci-fi films ever made, one after the other. Unfortunately, from there he went on to make movies about women driving off cliffs and painstakingly detailed, painstakingly dull films about gladiators. Please, Sir Ridley, make another sci-fi film before you die. And finish it yourself — don’t let Spielberg get at it.

But I digress. Alien was a science fiction film, but it was more properly a horror film. The Nostromo was the haunted house; Ripley and the crew were the horny young teenagers camping out at the lake; the Xenomorph was Jason/Freddy/Leatherface; and the evil Weyland-Yutani Corporation was… well, the evil Weyland-Yutani Corporation.

Alien was well acted, well scripted, and very well directed. The Xenomorph, designed by Swiss painter Hans Ruedi Giger, was unlike anything the average movie-goer had ever seen. Penny Robinson was in it, as were Bilbo Baggins, Trevor Bruttenholm, and the sheriff from Picket Fences. The actors were older and more experienced that the typical horror film cast, able to lend reality to their characters without too much wordy exposition. And Sigourney Weaver was super-sexy when she stripped down to her underwear.

In 1986, James Cameron followed up his excellent low budget sci-fi action film The Terminator with Aliens, the sequel to Alien. Cameron would go on to direct The Abyss and Terminator 2: Judgment Day, two very good sci-fi films.

Aliens was not a horror film – it was an action movie. Yet it somehow managed to seamlessly develop out of the first film, despite the difference in genre. This time there were lots of xenomorphs, and lots of heavily armed marines to blow them to bits. But ultimately it’s up to Lt. Ripley to save the day — and when she shows up at the climax in the power loader, it’s one of the greatest moments in any action film.

Get away from her, you BITCH!

Plus it was all, like, feminist and junk.

After Aliens cleaned up at the box office, 20th Century Fox decided they wanted a third film. Before we get into the clusterfuck that was the development process for Alien3, let’s first get through our Bitingly Sarcastic Plot Synopsis, shall we?

By the way, I must point out here that I am working from the 2003 “Assembly Cut,” which is a half hour longer and contains changes to about three-quarters of the scenes. It’s a vast improvement over the theatrical cut.

BEGIN BITINGLY SARCASTIC PLOT SYNOPSIS (spoilers)

Something is wrong aboard the Space Marines ship U.S.S. Sulaco — and I don’t just mean a terrible rewrite. Look — there’s a xenomorph egg on board! Because God knows Ripley and Hicks wouldn’t have bothered to search the ship before taking off for home! That’s just crazy talk!

How the hell do you miss that???

The Sulaco is passing right by a planet called Fiorina ‘Fury’ 161, because (a) it needs to slingshot around Fury 161 to get to Earth, (b) the Sulaco has drifted off course dangerously close to a star, or (c) the plot demands it and who gives a crap about science?

The Sulaco ejects an escape pod, which happens to land right next to the Fury 161 penal colony, and not anywhere else on the whole friggin’ planet. The inmates of the penal colony all suffer from XYY aneuploidy, the symptoms of which, according to the film, appear to include being working class, loud and British.

Actually, the film operates under the conceit that men with double-Y syndrome are more violent than the rest of us. This isn’t true — the actual symptoms of double-Y syndrome are learning disabilities and acne. But the filmmakers can be forgiven — Wikipedia didn’t exist in 1992.

Ripley is taken to the infirmary by the prison doctor, who is played by the guy who was the villain with the fake eye in The Last Action Hero. You don’t remember that movie? Lucky you. Think The Purple Rose of Cairo, but starring Arnold Schwarzenegger. Scary, I know.

Ripley learns that Hicks and Newt are both dead, thereby rendering the entire 154 minutes of the previous film entirely moot. (More on this below.) Ripley is initially very upset about this, but manages to get over it pretty quickly. Please note that, at this point, nobody performs a simple medical exam of Ripley. This is because (a) the doctor is incompetent, (b) the infirmary is not properly equipped, or (c) the plot demands it.

The Warden of the penal colony, played by a guy who seems to be Bob Hoskins but isn’t, demands that Ripley be confined to the infirmary to protect her from the prisoners, some of whom view violent rape as a kind of gentle foreplay. Ripley of course does the logical thing — and wanders freely all over the place. This is because (a) Ripley is retarded, (b) — oh, we all know the answer is (c).

Meanwhile, one of the facehuggers from the Sulaco impregnates a space yak with a chestburster. (In the theatrical release, it was a dog. The space yaks are cooler.) The chestburster bursts from the space yak’s chest, and grows into a quadrupedal variant of the usual anthropomorphic xenomorph.

Ripley demands an autopsy on Newt, to make sure the little girl wasn’t impregnated by a facehugger. She wasn’t. This would naturally lead to the question of whether Ripley was impregnated, yet this never comes up (c). Ripley doesn’t tell anyone about the xenomorphs, even after inmates start getting killed.

It’s somewhere around this point that a bunch of inmates try to rape Ripley, who only escapes because a messianic religious leader, played by that guy who starred the TV series Roc, schools the would-be rapists with a lead pipe. What, you don’t remember Roc? It lasted three seasons on FOX!

Stop rape -- consent!

Ripley decides to jump-start the damaged android Bishop, who reveals that yes, there was a facehugger on the Sulaco. Bishop asks to be deactivated, since he’s too damaged to be top-of-the-line anymore. What is he, an Apple product?

Ripley tells everyone about the aliens, but no one believes her, except maybe the doctor, whom she had sex with, although we didn’t get to see anything. This makes it all the more poignant when the doctor is torn to bits by the xeno-yak, who sniffs at Ripley but doesn’t kill her. The reason for this is obvious to anyone who’s not a character in the movie.

Snausages! Do you have Snausages?

Our heroine returns to the smashed escape pod, which nonetheless has better medical facilities than the prison, and discovers — GASP! — she has a chestburster in her chest. What a surprise! It’s a twist worthy of M. Night Shyamalan — in that the audience figured it out 90 minutes ago.

Using her five dots in xenobiology, she determines it’s an Alien Queen chestburster. Ripley asks the messiah guy to kill her, but he refuses because his religion forbids killing. Not maiming people with a lead pipe, just killing.

In the mess hall, Ripley tries to get everyone interested in killing the xeno-yak, or at least in not getting killed by the xeno-yak. The Warden gives a speech trying to calm everyone down, but the xeno-yak pops out of the ceiling and eats him. This is very much like the scene in Deep Blue Sea where Samuel L. Jackson gets eaten by the smart shark in the middle of his speech, except Deep Blue Sea was supposed to be kind of cheesy (I hope), while Alien3 wasn’t. (The only reason to watch Deep Blue Sea is to check out Saffron Burrows before she stopped eating.)

Wait -- this isn't Alien 3. It's motherfucking Samuel L. Jackson being eaten by a motherfucking shark.

Anyway… Ripley works out a convoluted scheme, whereby a planet’s worth of chromosomally-damaged murderous religious nutjobs will coat the insides of the steam tunnels with an explosive chemical. It doesn’t matter why she suggests this, because it goes as badly as you’d expect — one of the nutjobs gets attacked by the xeno-yak, drops his torch, and half the prison blows up.

Still, they manage to get the xeno-yak trapped inside a toxic waste containment unit, which features a giant sign that says “toxic waste” in a wacky font, just in case you forgot what it was. If the xeno-yak had seen Alien: Resurrection, it would have known to just bleed on the floor and use its “molecular acid” blood to escape (isn’t all acid made of molecules?). But alas, like most moviegoers, it hadn’t seen Alien: Resurrection, even though it had Winona Ryder in it, and she’s incredibly cool.

Now for some reason the Eighth Doctor is in this movie, playing the craziest and nutjobbiest of the crazy nutjobs. He helps the xeno-yak to escape, but never once explains that whole “half-human, half-Gallifreyan” thing.

With the xeno-yak back on the loose, Ripley and Messiah Guy work out their most convoluted plan yet — in fact, it’s pretty much impossible for those of us in the audience to figure out what the plan actually entails. Basically, if enough religious wackjobs run around through an inexplicable maze of tunnels, randomly shutting doors, the xeno-yak will somehow die in a pool of hot lead. The fact that the prison has a giant betunneled lead smelter is something it might have been good to establish earlier, rather than having Messiah Guy pull this important information out of his ass.

This is when a group of Weyland-Yutani scientists dressed in plastic trash bags arrives on the planet. The exciting footage of religious nutjobs being chased by a xeno-yak through tunnels is intercut numerous times with exciting footage of scientists walking. Jesus, why didn’t they just park closer to the prison?

Somehow the plan comes together, and Messiah Guy and the xeno-yak are buried in molten lead. Unfortunately, the xeno-yak makes his saving throw versus liquid metal, and pops out of the smelter, now totally pissed off. Only Ripley and a minor character we never paid attention to before are left alive. Hmnn — I’d better give him a name: Minor Character We Never Paid Attention to Before. He’s played by that guy who was in that one episode of Doctor Who where Satan lived inside a planet orbiting a black hole.

So Minor Character We Never Paid Attention to Before tells Ripley to spray cold water on the xeno-yak, which is the first smart suggestion made by any character in this entire movie. The water cools the molten lead on the xeno-yak’s exoskeleton, and the alien explodes. Conveniently, the giant cloud of molecular acid this releases doesn’t hurt anyone or destroy anything.

Now the scientists show up. One of them is played by Lance Henriksen, and claims to be the creator of the Bishop android. (Apparently he went to the Noonien Soong school of robotics.) He says he was sent by the company so Ripley would see a familiar face.

This makes no sense, and here’s why. Weyland-Yutani knows that Ripley was betrayed by the Ash android in Alien, leaving her with a deep bias against androids. They can’t possibly know that Ripley developed a friendship with the Bishop android in Aliens —  she was still on her way back when this movie started.

Anyway, Lance tries to convince Ripley to let them remove the chestburster from her body, promising not to use it for military research. Ripley knows he’s lying — and takes a double-gainer into the furnace, killing herself.

So Ripley is totally, completely dead — until Alien: Resurrection, when Bones returns her katra to her reincarnated body from the Genesis Planet.

END BITINGLY SARCASTIC PLOT SYNOPSIS

Alien3 isn’t aggressively terrible, just long, dull and pointless. It’s on this list because expectations were so high after Alien and Aliens.

So what went wrong? So horribly, horribly wrong?

First, the producers hired famed cyberpunk author William Gibson to write the screenplay. Handed 110 pages of sheer sci-fi gold, the producers then shat all over it by hiring one team of writers after another, doctoring the script until nothing from Gibson remained. Seriously, why hire talented people if you’re just going to ignore what they give you?

Then Sigourney Weaver, previously committed to never appearing in an Alien film again, finally accepted enough cash (reportedly $4 million) and came on as star and as a producer. She insisted that Ripley die in this one, so she wouldn’t have to star in another one. I guess she should have talked to Leonard Nimoy first.

The incredibly talented David Fincher was brought on board, very late in development, to direct Alien3 as his first feature. Fincher decided to become a filmmaker when he saw Alien as a kid, so this was his dream gig. Unfortunately, the studio and the producers and the star wouldn’t let him just direct the damn thing, and Alien3 turned into one of those typical Hollywood “too many cooks in the kitchen” clusterfucks. The 27-year-old Fincher didn’t even have a finalized script from which to work.

To this day, Fincher hates hates hates Alien3, won’t talk about it, and wouldn’t contribute to the special edition DVD features. (The 2003 Quadrilogy set even edited out part of an old documentary in which Fincher blasted the studio.) That’s okay, he made Fight Club, a film they’ll still be teaching in film school 100 years from now.

But people don’t just dislike Alien3, they despise it. And I can tell you why.

Aliens was a great film. It was fun, exciting. and action-packed. The plot gave us plenty of heavily armed people running around, trading quips, and getting torn apart by aliens. But the story is what mattered — and the story was about Ripley overcoming her fears and building a family unit with Newt and Hicks. By the end of the film we’re happy and relieved that the survivors are going to make it home.

Now obviously, any sequel starring Sigourney Weaver has to involve Ripley getting chased by aliens again. What the sequel did not need was Newt and Hicks slaughtered unnecessarily, offscreen, during the opening credits.

That’s right, moviegoers — screw Aliens, and screw you too. We just offhandedly killed your favorite characters. And we won’t even show it to you. It’s not even in the movie. It’s like The Empire Strikes Back, where we find out Han and Leia were killed off during the credits roll. Or Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, in which Bones, Scotty and Uhura get killed during the Paramount Pictures flying logo. Oh wait — that doesn’t happen!

Jesus Christ, if you have to kill off Newt and Hicks (which you don’t), then make it part of the movie! This might be difficult, since Carrie Henn selfishly insisted on growing up — so how about just not doing it at all?

In fact, a number of cast and crew from the series, including Aliens actor Michael Biehn and director James Cameron, expressed disappointment with the film’s story. Cameron said the decision to kill off the characters of Bishop, Newt, and Hicks was “a slap in the face” to him and to fans of the previous film. Biehn, upon learning of Corporal Hicks’ demise, demanded and received almost as much money for the use of his likeness in one scene as he had been paid for his role in Aliens.

Then there’s the setting, which is basically just the Nostromo with crazy religious people instead of space truck drivers. None of the prison inmates are compelling or interesting characters. We feel a slight emotional twinge when the doctor gets killed, but that’s only because he slept with Ripley. The other characters are just a bunch of asshole cyphers — even with the extra half hour of character development edited in.

After upping the ante in Aliens, going from one alien to hundreds, Alien3 tries to shake things up by going back to just one xenomorph. One small, quadropedal xenomorph. A small, quadropedal xenomorph that was shot as a puppet against a blue screen, and optically composited into the film. This was so we could see the xeno-yak running at high speed. Unfortunately, the composite effects are really, really poor.

We don’t see very much of the xeno-yak, and even when we do, each shot is identical to one we’ve already seen in Alien or Aliens. There’s nothing new. Even Alien: Resurrection has some original visual ideas, as crazy Ripley/Xeno clone interacts directly with the xenomorphs.

Unfortunately, what Alien3 boils down to is a poor remake of Alien. Which is too bad, because there was so much possibility there.

Next: Indiana Jones & the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull