Bests & Worsts Reviews from Amazon

“My name is Doctor Elizabeth Shaw...last surviving member of the Prometheus, and I am still searching.” Ten years after Doctor Shaw speaks these words begins Covenant, the second prequel to Alien, the seminal film that launched a franchise that would make Sigourney Weaver's Ellen Ripley the most celebrated cinematic heroine since Renee Maria Falconetti's Joan of Arc. Released in 2012, Prometheus received mixed reviews from both audiences and critics, mostly because it failed to meet their expectations—instead of being a suspenseful, action packed, sci-fi horror film in which all viewers would need to enjoy it were their eyes and ears, it was, it is, a thought-provoking tale that demands they also use their brain to ponder the many questions asked of them: Who created man? Why did they create us? and Why do they now seek to destroy us? For five years these questions have been left floating in the ether, debated by those of us who actually accepted Prometheus for what it was. For five years we've waited for these questions to be answered; and because I exited the theater no more closer to their answers than before I entered is why, for me, Alien: Covenant is a good film, certainly, but not the film I needed it to be. The story comes to us in four movements; think of it as a symphony, a dreaded symphony. The first movement might be called “Arrival,” in which we discover both our adventurers and their adventure, at least the one they believe they've just begun. The second movement we'll call “Detour,” in which the adventurers gradually comprehend what the viewer already knows: things are never what they seem, in fact they are often worse. The third movement, and the one admirers of Prometheus will most enjoy, I'll call “Descent of Gods,” in which a new god drops from the heavens to destroy the old. Our symphony's final movement is perhaps its most disappointing, because it never fulfills the promise of the first three; let's call it “Nightmare Reoccurring,” in which we return to old shadows, old monsters that have haunted us for decades. The movie's error is that it attempts to please traditionalists and iconoclasts, moviegoers who prefer either the standard Alien films or, like me, the new ground paved by Prometheus, but in doing so director Ridley Scott disappoints both. About Covenant iconoclasts will complain “it's not Prometheus,” and traditionalists will lament “it's not Alien either.” Now, because so many of you have yet to see Covenant, I won't go into detail here. What I will disclose is, thankfully, one of Prometheus's less philosophical questions is indeed answered: What becomes of David and Doctor Shaw? Well, Doctor Shaw never finds what she is searching for. And as for David, he confirms something else the viewer already knows: that robots, even defective ones, can still be excruciatingly consistent.... *** Post Post Prometheus Now a day after seeing Alien: Covenant and posting my thoughts about the film, I've spent the past few hours contemplating the questions Covenant fails to answer, questions first offered in Prometheus: The Engineers created human beings, but why did they create us? Even more important, why do they decide to destroy us? The failure to answer these questions is what, for me, partly diminishes Covenant; but perhaps, now that I've had more time to let the movie sink in, to let it saturate the depths of my grey, these questions are actually answered, though indirectly. In the movie David quotes Shelly's Ozymandias: . I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed: . And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away. . Shelly's poem is a warning from creator to creator; it is the one reminding the other that no matter how remarkable or vast one's kingdom, ultimately, inevitably, whether one's enemy is time, revenge, or hubris, all that one has raised will be brought to the ground. In Prometheus, Dr. Holloway tells the robot David man created him "because we could," and to that David replies, "Could you imagine how disappointing it would be for you to hear the same thing from your creator?" The Engineers created man for the same reason man creates most things--because we must, because we are driven to create as we are to destroy; and since our DNA and the Engineers' is a perfect match, then I believe they, being self-aware, wholly understood that it is better to reap what you have sewn before what you have sewn reaps you. The creation of life beyond giving birth is a power best left to the gods; to do otherwise is hubris, and it is hubris, or the Engineers acknowledgement of hubris as a destructive force capable of bringing about the End of Days, is why they determine humans must be wiped out. The Engineers knew enough about themselves to predict what man would become, and for that reason brought into existence a monster conceived to put down the other monsters they created.