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You ever sit around and just think about how the Emperor might well have no clothes? I did yesterday after I actually saw much-hyped alien horror flic Prometheus. Let me tell you something straight-up: the Emperor has NO @#$% CLOTHES!
Here’s what online aggregate-smart-machine Rottentomatoes had to say about Prometheus by way of critical consensus:
“Ridley Scott’s ambitious quasi-prequel to Alien may not answer all of its big questions, but it’s redeemed by its haunting visual grandeur and compelling performances — particularly Michael Fassbender as a fastidious android.”
May not answer ALL of it big questions? Alien, whaaaaaaaaaat? Alien, pleeeease! Not only weren’t there any answers, there weren’t any big questions either! The Emperor has no clothes! What the hell is wrong with you people?
Prometheus Reviewed, Charlize Theron’s Butt
How to put this… wait, I’ve got it: Prometheus is one of the stupidest, most overhyped, most boring pieces of crap ever to disgrace the silver screen. People who should be turned to alien slime puddles, though not necessarily in this order, include:
- The film editor: Prometheus features some of the clumsiest single cuts ever seen in a non-amateur work. Also, the editor decided to yada yada Charlize Theron’s blonde-on-black sex scene with the ship’s captain.
- The casting director: What was it, special discount day at the racial-ethnic potpourri Walmart? White, Asian, Black, Blonde, Irish Stepchild, Southern, Swedish, and more. Dude, this is an alien pic, not a @#$!ing Beneton commercial. You’re a moron.
- The script writers: The script is wooden, nonsensical. “Faith” pops up now and again but feels like a last-minute addition, and not the central issue the writers intended, or should have intended, it to be. Oh, and if Charlize Theron angrily says “Jesus!” or “OMG!” just one more damn time, I’m gonna hurl green slime.
- Noomi Rapace and Logan Marshall-Green: If there were any less sexual chemistry between these two, they’d be brother and sister. Well, that holds true so long as they don’t live in the Deep South.
- Ridley Scott: The buck stops here. Sir Ridley, you’ve made a festering alien turd of a movie, dressed up in $130 million bucks of special effects and marketing hype. If you’re the Emperor, you most certainly are buck naked as the day you were born. Shrinkage!
- Everyone else involved in the making of the film: You should all be ashamed. Go back to your home planet: Stupid Hyped Crappia.
- Clayton Diggs: Me, for having previously published a preview-review expressing excitement about this piece of outer-space flotsam.
Analysis, Dr. Spock?
Don’t see Prometheus. Just don’t. Not even on DVD. It’ll be two hours you can never get back from the vacuum of space, much as you’d like to. If you want good alien horror, you’d be better off painting yourself green, drinking a pint of turpentine, and swallowing a lit match before running around the neighborhood (naturally, I’m describing my Saturday nights). Shame on you, Ridley Scott, and shame on the film critics of the world for not seeing through this thin, under-realized pile of alien feces. Shame on you for taking the fees.
The Emperor has no clothes! Hell… you know what? It’s worse than that. The clothes have no Emperor. Hot damn!
Did you see Prometheus? Share your thoughts in the comments section. Also, be sure to take the Charlize Theron Butt Poll 2.