Thursday, June 28, 2012

David 8 and Ash


I’m pretty sure on Tumblr, David 8 is the most popular character in Prometheus, and it’s not hard to see why. While I can be cynical and say that it’s because he’s played by the absolutely stunning Michael Fassbender (both in acting skill and in appearance), the fact is that David is the most interesting character in the film. There’s a lot we don’t know about him by the time the film ends, but while there’s room to speculate on his motives, he doesn’t show the lack of common sense or character inconsistency that the others do. Furthermore, he’s also the most developed character next to Shaw.

But what makes David even more interesting is when he’s compared to Ash from the original Alien. In general, I think that comparing Prometheus to Alien is a terrible idea; the two films really don’t have much in common besides the very basic premise (crew goes to planet, finds alien stuff, everything goes horribly wrong); the structure of the film and the themes are so radically different that expecting anything like Alien automatically breeds disappointment. While Prometheus still has serious problems, treating it as an Alien prequel makes it a complete failure. But it is interesting to look at David as the precursor to Ash. I read on Tumblr someone asking how Ash would be an improved version of David, and that got me thinking. On first glance, David seems like more of a success than Ash; he’s friendly  and congenial where Ash is distant and cold, he seems to be more capable of emotion than Ash (or at least has the capacity for empathy), and above all, he wants to be human (or at least accepted as such).

Think of how we meet David; even if you hadn’t seen any of the promotional material, you find out very early on that David is an android, and it’s very quickly established that he admires humans and tried to be like them. He models himself after Peter O’Toole in Lawrence of Arabia, down to meticulously dyeing his hair, and although we’re told he cannot feel emotions (which in sci-fi is almost always a lie), he shows visible disappointment when Weyland says that he can never have a soul. We are meant to empathize with David from the very beginning: he just wants to be accepted alongside other humans.

[Actually, empathizing with David is kind of how I started thinking about all of this; I was having a discussion with a friend about how Tumblr tends to want to mother characters that they sympathize with, even when they are not really a “sweet baby ____”. (I’m looking at you, Loki fangirls!) I mean, I’m not completely free of that, but there is almost definitely a sector of the internet that sees David as some sort of “sweet baby robot Pinocchio prince”, despite the fact that he does some really creepy and amoral shit. I was joking that wouldn’t it be funny if Tumblr treated Ash like some sort of “sweet baby corporate robot”? My friend replied that it would never happen because Ian Holm isn’t all handsome and pretty like Fassbender, and while that is definitely true (though idk, there’s something to be said for men Of An Older Age with brownish-grey hair and blue eyes…) there’s definitely more incentive to like David.]



don't judge me man


All of this makes sense within the film as well; David’s original purpose was created to take care of humans and work well with others, so he would naturally try to make a pleasant impression on others. He’s got these big blue eyes that kill you every time he looks hurt, and his status as a surrogate son allows him to have a unique personality compared to other androids of his same model. We learn that he’s taking orders from Weyland, but we never find out what they are, and they seem to be flexible enough that David can devote time to fixating on Shaw.

Ash, on the other hand, is pretty much the polar opposite of David. [I should note now that I’ve only seen Alien once, and that was a while ago, so I may not remember every Ash detail.] We assume he’s human for the first half of Alien, though he separates himself from the rest of the crew. He’s much shiftier than David, but while David can fall into the uncanny valley of creepy smiles, Ash’s creepiness is much more plausible as human. We can see that something is off about him, but he just seems at worst like that guy you might be a tiny bit wary of when you’re the only two in the subway car at three in the morning.

This all makes sense if you consider what Ash was presumably made for; he’s a science officer. His primary duties have little to do with social interactions, so he doesn’t bother with them. He doesn’t even really seem to like humans all that much; he’ll pass as one, but he’s much more attracted to the alien, to the point where he emulates the facehugger by trying to shove a magazine down her throat. (Of course, there’s more to that scene than pure emulation, but the rapey overtones of that scene and the facehugger could be its own article.) Ash has no desire to be human; he just plays the part when it suits him, and completely drops the façade once Ripley finds out his orders. He’s purposefully more not-human that David, automatically distancing himself from the viewer’s sympathies.

But the question is still unanswered: How is Ash an improvement over David? The improvement is Ash actually sticks to his purpose and nothing else. David is, by robot standards, unpredictable; he certainly wasn’t told to be the dream equivalent of a peeping tom, and while he may have been told to bring back the alien goo and infect someone with it, he clearly chooses Holloway out of malice (and probably jealousy). Ash fulfills two main purposes: pose as the science/medical officer for the crew, and bring the alien back at all costs, and everything he does is directly related to those orders. Some people speculate that Ash attacking Ripley is actually a malfunction, but it follows the second order; Ripley was definitely going to warn the rest of the crew, and he had to prevent that. What’s the easiest way to keep her from talking? Kill her. This isn’t to say that Ash is completely logical; once again, his choice of weapon proves that. But his desires still match up with his orders, whereas David’s were completely unrelated.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Prometheus: Sometimes my first impression is wrong


It has come to my attention that Prometheus is not a well-written movie. Like, at all. And not because it didn’t answer the questions about the Alien universe that everyone was expecting, but…the film just didn’t make that much sense; the characters either completely lost any of their common sense, or they didn’t have any in the first place. I actually didn’t mind that we don’t find out what the “Engineers” wanted or why they made humanity or why they decided to kill it off; I can deal with the idea that we weren’t meant to know (or that it doesn’t matter). I didn’t even mind most of the scientist stupidity (“Let’s take off our helmets in this unknown environment!”) And to be honest, I kind of like that the reason for the cave paintings was left unanswered. Film Crit Hulk’s article on Damon Lindelof calls this the “ ‘I want the answers!’ ‘You can’t have the answers!’” dynamic (and by the way, you all should be reading his work because it’s amazing), but personally, I felt that wasn’t important. The reasons aren’t important, but everyone’s reaction is. The main theme isn’t about the actual creation of humans, but the search for it.

The problem is that the results of the search and character reactions don’t mean anything because the characters are so inconsistent and flat. Holloway falls into a drunken depression within hours of learning that he’s right, but he can’t personally talk to an alien. He’s had this theory about intelligent life for what we assume to be years, and he’s sad because he can’t personally have a conversation with them? Sad enough to down a bottle of vodka? Really? Milburn is scared shitless by a bunch of dead alien bodies, but when he sees a live vagina monster, he’s not scared in the slightest? Janek doesn’t give a fuck about the mission, and yet he somehow figures out that the xenomorph primordial soup was a biological weapon meant to kill us? Jackson the security guy sees a twisted body that was originally in the Temple of Doom and his first reaction is “Hey, look at this” ? (Protip: if you’re ever in a scary situation and see something unusual, don’t get closer to examine it! “Hey look at this” is almost guaranteed to get you killed!) Shaw has the ability to go home, away from the alien crazy, and instead decides to go after the aliens who could kill her in a second along with the robot that’s been creeping on her for the entire movie? What?

Speaking of David, I loved him (as I do most robot characters), and he’s possibly the only nuanced character; I only wish we got more time with him. The Weyland family dynamic is really something that was shoehorned in (“Kings die someday, DAD”), and David’s devotion to his father combined with his fixation on Shaw hands down makes him the most interesting character on the ship. He’s supposed to be support for the crew, but it’s made clear very early on that he has his own agenda, and while his agenda is vague, it’s not baffling. David is driven by his desire to gain acceptance as a true son by his father, his fascination with Elizabeth, and his curiosity about alien life. The last point may be related to the first; Weyland has spent over a trillion dollars and possibly sacrificed an entire crew just to have a chance to meet the creators of the human race, and so David’s fascination may be an extension of his desire to please his father. However, it also may relate to Ash’s admiration of the alien in the original Alien; David has spent his entire life trying to be accepted as a human son, so perhaps he is curious about the first non-human creature he’s ever encountered. Poisoning Holloway may have been an experiment to see what this life form was capable of, but it is unclear whether this was part of Weyland’s plan or David’s interpretation of it. Whichever it was, the fact that Holloway is Shaw’s boyfriend was definitely a factor, and David definitely has a vastly different version of morality than anybody else on the ship.

But talking about David, Weyland, and Vickers reveals the biggest problem with Prometheus; most of the meaning derived from it is completely subjective. A lot of the things I just said were how interpreted it, and there are a ton of different interpretations, some of which are based on prior drafts or deleted scenes from the film. Supposedly there’s going to be a director’s cut, which seems like a bit of a cop out to me. The film should make concrete sense on its own; any theory that is based on deleted scenes is automatically invalid because those scenes weren’t in the finished product. Personally, I think that David’s actions can be explained, but it’s never truly clear, and while it’s a much more interesting mystery than why the Engineers try to kill off humanity, it’s still an important element of the film that’s kind of left dangling. I can say that David’s lack of morals is an example of the non-humanity that he struggles with for the entire film, but I don’t really know if I’m not intended to be sure of that or if Ridley Scott and Damon Lindelof don’t know either, or just don’t care. I think comparing Prometheus to Alien is pretty unfair (they’re only tangentially related at best, and Alien is tightly focused whereas Prometheus is intentionally sprawling), but Ash is given a clear and direct purpose: bring the alien back to earth at all costs, and in retrospect, everything he does comes back to that directive. David has much more of a developed personality than Ash underneath his congenial demeanor, with his own wants, but that makes his motives much more unclear.

And that’s really the thing about Prometheus; I liked it at first, but what I was interested in (besides the amazing cinematography) was more the seeds of ideas instead of something truly concrete. I still wouldn’t say it’s a bad movie by any means, but it’s definitely more vague than it should be.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

The Mansion scene in Shutter Island


I recently posted my entire final paper for my film theory class, spurred by rewatching Shutter Island. I enjoy the movie overall, but I just feel like there’s still more I want to write about it. Every time I try and watch it, I get stuck watching one scene on repeat. Apparently I’m not the only one who’s captivated by it; there are two videos on youtube of it labeled “Shutter Island best scene.” It’s only the fourth or so scene in the film, where Teddy and Chuck are invited to Dr. Crawley’s mansion. It’s a beautiful scene on its own; the music and imagery come together amazingly, but it’s the acting that ties everything together, particularly on repeat viewings. The scene can be viewed here; it’s early enough that it’s not a spoiler, though I will be spoiling the film when I talk about it. This post also has no proper ending because I do what I want.

Monday, June 4, 2012

Camera, mind, and belief: apparatus and ideology as used in the films of Martin Scorsese

I was rewatching Shutter Island and thinking about writing a post about the great nuances, both in the construction of the film and the performances. Then I realized that I pretty much already did, in my final paper for my film theory class in my senior year of college. I don't usually feel comfortable posting my academic work online (how can I compare to people who actually know what they're doing?), but a friend convinced me to do so. So here's a 12-ish page paper on Scorsese, subjective reality, and the ideal American male.