Prometheus review

The spacegirl who played with fire

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He refused to show us an Alien in the sensational trailers (‘Aaaaah! Aaaaah!’), he wouldn’t even use the word ‘Alien’ in the title, but Ridley Scott gives us one almost immediately in Prometheus ’ opening scene. Not the kind you’re expecting, mind.

Breathtaking stereoscopic shots swoop across a gorgeous landscape. Black mountains wreathed in volcanic steam, glassy lakes and, at the top of a crashing waterfall, a tiny man. Only he’s not tiny. He’s not a man. Like an extra-terrestrial Greek titan, this tower of muscle flexes inside smooth pale skin. And then dies.

Their mission: to discover where we come from – and why.

Once they touch down, we’re on familiar ground: the crew begin exploring a giant hollow labyrinthine of tunnels and, uh-oh, something sticky leaking from countless cylinders stored deep within one of the chambers...

Now if only they’d cast O’Toole himself as Peter Weyland instead of Guy Pearce, unrecognisable behind melty-faced prosthetics.

“I didn’t think you had it in you,” quips David, in a wry moment that Prometheus could have used more of.