Prometheus

I’ll keep this short like I wish Ridley Scott had.

What a pile of rubbish. I can barely even give this film a proper review because the so-called twists and turns are so utterly predictable they can scarcely be called spoilers. Prometheus is a perfect example of when a filmmaker has pulled off so many wins that they are essentially given carte blanche to churn out such masturbatory, self-indulgent films without having to answer to anyone who might point out its many glaring flaws. The movie is about three times longer than it needs to be, and while I was prepared to compromise things like, oh, story arc or character development for the emphatically-promised mindblowing special effects, I was left cold on every front.

I understand that people will read this and many other negative reviews and will still want to see it for themselves. I respect that. I wouldn’t have believed it was this bad without seeing it for myself. I respectfully request that these brave souls to return to this page with just one redeeming quality of the film to help me mourn the loss of those two and a half hours of my weekend.

 

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