(Editor’s note: clicking on links might lead to insanely amusing schlitz. Or just informative schlitz. Depends on the link)
And I’m not just talking about Charlize Theron’s very fine derrière, which, despite Pulp Fiction’s Marcelus Wallace’s admonitions about asses to the contrary, has aged like a very fine wine, and not at all turned to vinegar (well, unless she hasn’t showered in a few days).
In case you’ve been living in an outer-space cave for the last few weeks, here’s what this month’s sort-of-Alien-prequel, $130 million dollar blockbuster is about:
Charlize Theron, wearing a grey, overly manly Star Trek getup, plays the badass Corporate Leader of the space-exploration vessel Prometheus, emotes The Matrix’s Morpheus in her smugness, and says crap to her crew like: “My job is to make sure you do yours.”
Wait, Char…what’s the job? Is it spanking your fine behind with a light-saber? Sign me up! Hot damn! I’m sorry. I’m not!
Anyway, between harsh quips from hottie Theron and mounting sexual tension between laconic android-thing Michael Fassbender (the creepiest looking pederast-candidate in Hollywood) and female crewmate Noomi Rapace (Sweden’s Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) – prompting audiences to wonder about android genital design – Prometheus makes its inevitable way toward some planet where the slimy origins of humanity are thought to be hanging out, shooting the slime, so to speak.
It’s no surprise, of course, when the expedition goes horribly, slimily wrong. The only thing no one can explain to me though is why, when the Prometheus exploratory crew sees a weird cobra like creature slithering out of a slimy tree trunk thing, one of them decides it’s time to try and make friends with the local slime-life.
Promethean 1: “Look, it’s an adorable cobra slime-thing. It’s so cute how it’s hissing at me and bobbing its head menacingly.”
Promethean 2: “Um. Dude, I don’t thing that’s a good idea.”
Promethean 1: “Coochie-coochie-coo…”
Alien slime spore cobra, lunging, attaching itself to Promethean 1’s face: “Stupid human douchebag, now I’m going to eat your nuts.”
Promethean 1: “Aaaaaaargh! My nuts! It burns.”
Promethean 2: “Um. Dude, party foul. Now humanity is doomed to destruction. Total party foul. Um.”
You’ll never guess what happens next! The so clever Prometheus crew brings the slime monsters on board their floating space-home to see if they’ll make decent roommates. General disagreement ensues about what constitutes good roomie behavior. The humans, you see, feel that it’s rude of the slime monsters to invade a human body cavity and then rupture it from the inside like a bloody piñata. The slime monsters, for their part, politely insist that turning humans into exploding blood bombs of screaming misery is perfectly okay, kind of akin to borrowing a glass and milk from the communal space-fridge now and then. We can only hope they all find a way to make friends by the end of the pic, you know? It’s all about good-roomie communication!
Despite the fact that we’ve seen this exact space/horror thing a thousand times before, I’ve read that Prometheus serves up on a slimy platter a few surprises, such as the scene in which a woman performs a damn C-section on herself inside some kind of plastic auto-surgery tube. The surgery wound is closed up with big-ass metal staples and the slime-monster baby is gripped tight in a vise. Aww…how cute is that?
“It’s not exactly a traditional fetus,” says humanoid robot-thing Michael Fassbender (he’s chosen “Lawrence of Arabia”’s Peter O’Toole as his role model – for real). That is so funny! LOL! ROTFLMVAO! (Roll On The Floor Laugh My Vomiting Ass OFF!)
So yeah, I can’t wait to see this adorable sendup of MTV’s the Real World. It’s like the Real World, but in outer space. It’s The Real World, Aliens and Their Dumb Human Food.
Well, amigos, that’s it for this week. I’ll write another bit when I’ve seen Prometheus. Hmmm… why do I feel like I already have? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to down a couple Mint Juleps with my new, friendly, slime-monster neighbors. That shouldn’t be problem, right? I mean, how bad can it be to become an exploding blood bomb of human misery? Hey, you’ve gotta make nice with the neighbors, you know!