Director Report Card: Ridley Scott (2024)

29. Gladiator II

On paper, “Gladiator” probably didn't seem like the kind of movie primed to launch a sequel. Especially since its main character was dead by the end. Despite that, talks of a sequel to the sword and sandal epic began not long after the original was released. The initial idea that Ridley Scott and screenwriter David Franzoni kicked around would have revolved around the idea of Lucius as Maximus' son, heavily hinted at in the original. Russell Crowe, meanwhile, insisted on a supernatural premise that would see Maximus returning from beyond the grave. This lead to a legendarily nuts script from Nick Cave entitled “Gladiator II: Christ Killer,” about the Roman gods sending Maximus back to Earth to murder Jesus and end the burgeoning new religion. This included an ending montage that had Maximus becoming an immortal warrior that participated in all of history's great wars. Such a premise was clearly too weird, willfully offensive, and metal to actually be filmed. Supposedly Steven Spielberg himself vetoed the sequel.

After that, the sequel entered development hell. Various behind-the-scenes studio shenanigans would scuttle the project but Ridley Scott remained passionate about the idea. For two decades, he held onto the insistence of making a follow-up to the Best Picture winner. In 2018, the sequel would finally get the official greenlight, the script once again revolving around Lucius as Maximus' son. “Gladiator II' finally went before cameras with a massive budget, somewhere in the neighborhood of 250 million. This suggested the studio believed the film could be a blockbuster... Turns out audiences weren't not exactly scrambling for a sequel to a twenty-four year old historical epic, the film doing middling business. It also received sharply divided reviews, some loving it but most agreeing it wasn't as good as the original. Destined not to repeat its predecessor's Oscar gold, the Academy only nominated the sequel for its costumes. Seems like an anticlimactic result after so many years in development but the question remains: Is the film itself any good?

Sixteen years after the Emperor Commondus is killed by Maximus Decimus Meridius in the Colosseum, the Roman empire is now ruled by the depraved twin brothers Geta and Caracalla. They demand the empire expand, having General Acacius lead an invasion of Numidia. During the siege, a young warrior named Hanno watches his wife be killed and is captured as a slave. Taken to Rome, he purchased by trader Macrinus. Seeing something in the boy, Macrinus trains him as a gladiator and promises to help him achieve his revenge against Acacius. Hanno becomes popular in the colosseum. Lucilla – the daughter of Marcus Aurelius and Acacius' current wife – recognizes the new gladiator as an adult Lucius, her and Maximus' son that was sent into hiding for his own protection. Soon, “Hanno” is torn between two conspiracies: One by Acacius to overthrown the emperors and restore sanity to Rome and another by Macrinus to take over the empire and burn it down from the inside. 

Probably do to the historical influence of Christianity, we have a view of the Roman empire today as a decadent nation, where mad emperors threw debauched parties and Christians were fed to lions in the Colosseum. “Gladiator II” takes place in this (largely imaginary) version of Rome. Emperors Geta and Carcalla are portrayed as pale skinned, sunken-eyed, limp-wristed lunatics who are hungry for blood, both from the gladiatorial games and on the battlefield. We know they are crazed because one of them has a pet monkey. It's impossible not to see this depiction of a Rome on the verge of collapse, ruled by mad vulgarians and conspired against by a hostile military and people, and think of our modern political climate. Are modern right-wing politicians like Trump and Milei our modern equivalents to Caligula and Nero? The idea of an empire ruled by insane fascists, that is overextending itself and rotting in their own excess, feels uncomfortably relevant in the new twenties.

Throughout the film, the dream of Marcus Aurellius, of a Rome ruled by the people and for the people, is referenced. This is the grand idealized vision of democracy, that tyrants can be dismissed and a government directed by the average man is possible. Pointedly, Aurellius' idea of a freely elected Rome is referred to as dead all throughout the film. Acacius thinks a military coup is necessary, to dispose the mad emperors and restore Rome to its former glory. Macrinus thinks the empire needs to be destroyed, that the rebuilding can only begin after the old world is burnt down. Rather than support either of these ideas, “Gladiator II” ultimately goes in a more optimistic direction, a right and pure savior emerging to save the day. However, the evidence the sequel presents that the empire – and its modern equivalents??? – must be vanquished before something healthier can emerge is more compelling. Ridley Scott has never struck me as especially optimistic about the future direction of society. That “Gladiator II” swerves suddenly towards a hopeful ending feels not only unearned but tagged on, as if the studio insisted on an upbeat ending. It's not as if we don't know the Roman Empire is doomed to fall. 

There is, perhaps, another reason why “Gladiator II's” ending feels so unsatisfying. The original “Gladiator” had several subplot but was ultimately focused on one clear idea. It was about Maximus seeking revenge but finding a higher cause than that. “Gladiator II” does not have that concise a premise. In fact, the film splits its runtime between several on-going stories. For most of its runtime, the story of Acacius plotting against the insane emperors, Marinus' scheme to seize power, and Hanno's battles in the gladiatorial ring never feel like they exactly connect. It's not until the second half that these threads begin to come together, the connective fiber being cleaved away until a more concise climax is ready to go. Sometimes, it feels like “Gladiator II” is unsuccessfully splitting the audience's attention and that it doesn't cohere into something more focused until the last third.

There's another problem too: The story thread devoted to Hanno/Lucius proves to be the film's least interesting. The first half of the sequel operates under the idea that “Hanno” has either no idea or no interest in his true destiny. He only wants revenge against the empire. After one brief conversation with Lucilla, his personality shifts entirely. He is now ready to carry out the vision of his grandfather and real father. We all know that Ridley Scott is fond of lengthy director's cut that restore footage excised from the theatrical cut. I'm honestly wondering if some of Lucius' character development wasn't left on the cutting room floor. Why you would cut scenes revolving around the change your protagonist undergoes, I can't say. Either way, Lucius seems like a totally different character at the film's end than he does at the beginning and not because he grows and changes. 

There might be other reasons why the journey the protagonist undergoes in “Gladiator II” isn't entirely convincing. Coming twenty four years after the original means this is not an ordinary sequel. “Gladiator II” fits right into Hollywood's favorite modern trend of I.P. Extension, the legacy sequel, follow-ups that slavishly honor the original while introducing new heroes that can continue the franchise into the next decade. Hanno is Maximus' son, his father existing in the sequel as a totally off-screen but practically deified figure. He's spoken of in hushed tones, as a great man who stood up to tyranny. His armor is suspended in a tomb like it's a religious alter. Lucius donning his dad's armor is treated like Bruce Wayne putting the Batman cowl on for the first time. This pairs with a script that closely follows the original's structure, of a gladiator driven by revenge who soon fights to free the people from a dictator instead. This stuff comes off as totally inert, as if it's a demanded addition to the script that Scott and his team were not that invested in. “Gladiator” isn't “Star Wars” or “Ghostbusters” and doesn't have the history or mythology of those series. Does anyone care about Maximus as much as they do Luke Skywalker? Must we treat him with such reverence? The script says “yes” but the sequel's actual tone suggests otherwise.

Maybe Lucius coming across as a weak protagonist, whose personality feels pushed around by the whims of the script, aren't the fault of the writing nor the demands of the legacy sequel. Paul Mascal was hand-picked by Scott to play the role, over bigger names like Barry Keoghan, Miles Teller, and Austin Butler. That would suggest the director had a certain faith in the performer. In the earlier scenes, Mascal seems well cast. He is a physical force, his muscle rippling as he wrestles with other gladiators and bloodily dispatches them. When driven by his rage, such as in an effective sequence where he operates an ancient rowing machine all by himself, Mascal makes Hanno a compelling protagonist. However, whenever he has to express the other emotions in the script, a desire to bring democracy back to Rome or to honor those that have fallen, he is never convincing. Pablo Pascal, as Acacius, seems similarly shackled by the grandness of the script, unable to make the general into more of a character and less of a plot device. 

Despite a messy script and two leads that never quite get a grip on their roles, “Gladiator II” is still an enjoyable time at the movies. This is mainly because it allows Ridley Scott a chance to indulge some of his favorite ideas. The sequel is awash with ideas of familial resentment and lingering legacy. Lucius never knew his real father and ultimately must fill some big sandals, left behind by his emperor grandfather and revolutionary dad. His mother – played by Connie Nielson, as one of the few actors to return from the original – is married to his rival, bringing certain Oedipal themes to mind. That there is an unspoken longing between them, not directly incestuous but also not without that feeling, is unavoidable. Meanwhile, the twin emperors seem to be the type of sexually voracious decadents that wouldn't be opposed to screwing each other. In addition to obviously resenting one another's power. In other words, the intertwining desires of family – to honor your bloodline, end it, or feed back into it – is all over the sequel.

Operatic themes like this inevitably point the sequel in another direction that Scott has been known to favor. “Gladiator II” has more in common with another Scott directed sequel than I expected. As he did with “Hannibal,” the director piles the movie up with so many outrageous elements that it quickly veers towards camp. To match the tone of Roman excess, “Gladiator II” builds towards increasingly bigger and more elaborate set pieces. The sequel sees its armored fighters going up against CGI animals multiple times. Shaved baboons, a rhinoceros mounted like a horse, and bloodthirsty sharks in a flooded colosseum all appear. These lead to grand, bloody action scenes. More dependent on CGI than the original, you can still feel Scott's joy at being able to include a naval battle or a weaponized rhino in the film. The action choreograph is captivating, the editing is tight, and the action is exciting. The naval attack sequence especially so.

Not all the animal co-stars in the movie where made in a computer though. Geta has a pet monkey named Dondus, played by a flesh-and-blood macaque, which steals the show whenever she's on-screen. That's far from the only bold swing the sequel makes. The supernatural concepts that were prominent in earlier drafts are teased by dream sequences Lucius has of his loved ones crossing the river Styx. Naturally, Scott and cinematographer John Mathieson make sure the sequel is loaded with opulent visuals. A shot of Acecus exiting through a gate, sweeping aerial views of the colosseum, or carefully lit nighttime scenes all show the grandness we associate with the director by this point. The sets and costumes are grand and elaborate. 

Excess is the name of the day, in other word. And some cast members seem more aware of this than others. Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger as the twin emperors both ham it up to heighten levels, playing the roles as cartoonish supervillains. Denzel Washington, meanwhile, plays Marinus as grand theater. Denzel is exactly the kind of actor that can make theatrical proclamations come off as thunderous monologues. He plays the character as an unrepentant villain, a schemer who is always manipulating everyone around him towards his ultimate goal. “Gladiator II” is at its most alive when Washington is on-screen. He adopts an ambiguous sexuality for the character, making it clear that he's playing the role as camp. However, Washington has such a natural command of the screen, putting such power into any of his performance, that the character still comes off as an effectively intimidating force.  

Ultimately, “Gladiator II” is both a mess and a highly entertaining blast of cinematic insanity. The script packs in too many ideas while cutting down on other important details. Grafting itself so closely to the original, in terms of narrative and structure, only draws attention to how much the sequel doesn't live up to its inspiration. It feels a bit like Scott wanted to make a stand-alone peplum epic but could only get the necessary budget if it was a sequel. As evident as these flaws are, Scott and his team are clearly having fun going as over-the-top as they can. It doesn't always work, especially whenever we are suppose to be involved in Mascal and his hero's journey. However, any movie with this much creatively crafted and carefully executed carnage, and such joyfully hammy villains, is destined to appeal to me on a certain level. Perhaps Ridley Scott is in his own debauched Roman emperor stage here but rhino fights and boat crashes are more fun to watch than Lady Gaga hamming it up or Napoleon and Josephine fucking. [Grade: B-]

Director Report Card: Ridley Scott (2023)

28. Napoleon

In 1927, French filmmaker Abel Gance unleashed a five and a half hour long epic about the life of Napoleon Bonaparte. Though now regarded as one of the greatest films of the silent era, Gance's “Napoleon” was divisively received at the time. The film was edited and cut down afterwards, being the subject of numerous restorations in the nearly one hundred years since its completion. In the early seventies, Stanley Kubrick sought to make a movie about Napoleon, which he promised would be “the best movie ever made.” After years of meticulous research, Kubrick couldn't secure funding for the film and it was never made. There have been many films actually made about Bonaparte and many others not made – Charlie Chaplin also attempted to adapt the emperor's story – but Gance's compromised vision and Kubrick's unmade epic tend to overshadow them all. I suppose the irony is too great to ignore, of great filmmakers trying and failing to make a movie about one of history's most ambitious, and ultimately humbled, conquerors. 

Ridley Scott is a great admirer of Kubrick. You can see the influence of “Barry Lyndon” – the movie Stanley made instead of his “Napoleon – on almost everything Scott has done. Considering Scott's own career of successful and unrealized historical epics, it's not surprising that Ridley has been trying to make his own “Napoleon” movie for quite a while. He approached David Scarpa to write a film on the subject in 2017 and the movie, initially given the unfortunate title of “Kitbag," had been in-and-out of development since then. Finally, Scott would clear his ever-packed dance card and be able to move forward with the now retitled “Napoleon” in 2022, the film releasing last November. 

In the aftermath of Marie Antoinette's execution, a young French army officer named Napoleon Bonaparte leads the Siege of Toulon. This elevates Napoleon through the ranks and he soon defends the new government from royalist insurrectionists. After leading a successful military campaign in Egypt, Napoleon overthrows the French Directory. He declares himself Emperor shortly afterwards. Bonaparte soon leads the French military against the Austrians, the Prussians, the Russians, and the English. All the while, the love of his life – a woman named Josephine – inspires and infuriates him as he strives for greatness.

It's the one thing every one knows about Napoleon. He was short and he sought to make up for this inadequacy by conquering Europe. This is, of course, not true. The French emperor was considered of average height for his time. However, that hasn't stopped the idea of the Napoleon Complex from entering popular usage. While Scott's film makes no comment on Napoleon's height, it does run with the idea that his desire for conquest was driven by psychological insecurities. “Napoleon” depicts the military leader as obsessed with achieving what he perceives as his destiny. He talks often of his greatness. After conquering Egypt, he looks a mummy in the eyes and playfully places his hat atop the sarcophagus. As if he's saying to one king that he has surpassed him. This was a man, determined to rule, by any means necessary.

Scott's film only hints at Bonaparte's back story. We meet his mother, whom he seems very close to, though any further details are left unspoken. His brother plays a prominent role in the earlier scenes before disappearing from the story all together. We never learn exactly where the emperor's unquenchable thirst for power came from, what inadequacy drove him to try and conquer the world, yet clearly there was something there. He has frequent arguments with his underlings. He seeks to establish dominance over other country's rulers in petty manners. He's obsessed with securing an heir, as if his inability to do so reflects on his strength somehow. Without being a full psychological breakdown of Napoleon's mind, the film runs with the idea that, behind every great leader, there's a great amount of neurosis. 

The greatest source of Napoleon's insecurities, this film would have us believe, was his relationship with Josephine. Upon setting eyes on the woman, he's immediately drawn to her. The seduction plays out quickly. Their sexually activities are depicted as frequent but brutish. Josephine teases him, forcing him to beg for it, while he stamps his feet and whinnies like a horse. She insists he's nothing without her. When he learns she has taken a lover, he uproots his entire military campaign and heads back to France. In other words, he seeks to conquer Josephine much the same way he sought to conquer the world. Just like the world, she resists him. And it drives him fucking nuts. It's a dysfunctional love story, a constant push and pull of submission and dominance between two stubborn individuals. In other words: The interplay of power and sex that Scott has played with across his last few films continues here. 

In fact, the details of Napoleon and Josephine's maladaptive relationship take up so much time in Scott's films, that some have characterized the whole movie as a comedy of sorts. Considering “House of Gucci” was a pulpy parody disguised as an operatic tragedy, it's not an unreasonable suggestions. At times, “Napoleon” definitely plays into this reading. The film depicts the Coup of 18 Brumaire as slapstick comedy. Bonaparte flees from a raging Directory, stumbling over himself several times. French politics are shown as a tumultuous circus all throughout, various leaders bickering childishly among themselves, passion often erupting into shouting and physical violence. Scott elevating events to absurd heights, such as in the stealth comedy of “Hannibal” or “Black Rain,” is probably not the most unreasonable approach to French politics. 

The main attraction of “Napoleon” was, perhaps, seeing Joaquin Phoenix and Ridley Scott reunite for the first time since “Gladiator.” Phoenix is, after all, one of the great actors of our time. He's especially good at playing intense individuals hype-fixated on their obsessions, whether they be Johnny Cash or the Joker. When combined with a script that focuses on Napoleon's neurosis, Phoenix plays the emperor as a bit of a weirdo. He carries himself with a sense of grandeur throughout but pairs it with sad eyes and a nervously furrowed brow. No matter how hard this Napoleon wants to be seen as great, it's only a veneer always about to crack up and reveal the vulnerability underneath. When he arrives in Moscow, abandoned by its ruler, his voice cracks in disappointment that no one is here. It's a compelling angle to approach the general from, Phoenix giving a memorably neurotic performance.

If Phoenix's Napoleon is a hurt little boy trying to prove himself, over and over again, Vanessa Kirby plays Josephine as something like a scheming femme fatale. From the moment Napoleon sets his eyes on her, she teases and tempts him. She clearly knows how to get a reaction out of him and uses it to her advantage throughout. It's only when the two are forced to divorced – due to Josephine's inability to mother an heir – that her feelings towards Napoleon seem to change. Josephine does love him, it seems, and not just when it's politically advantageous. Kirby is very convincing as a seductive, ball-busting mistress. She is less certain when playing a woman genuinely in love. But I think that's probably a weakness of the script, than anything else. 

Ultimately, despite having some interesting ideas about the psychological hang-ups of 1800s world leaders, “Napoleon” is still a historical epic directed by Ridley Scott. And we know what those look like by this point. Dariusz Wolski, Scott's regular cinematographer since “Prometheus,” is back behind the camera. As in “Exodus” and “The Last Duel,” he guarantees the film has a gloomy, overcast look through most of its runtime. It seems the sun is never shining whenever Napoleon is on the battlefield, even when he's in the middle of the Egyptian desert. The interiors are largely lit by candles, giving them a warm and painterly glow that blends with the washed-out colors in such a way that the film is rarely interesting to look at. Of course, Scott's movies have kind of looked like this since “Gladiator,” so I don't really blame Wolski.

Having said that, “Napoleon” certainly does have its cool moments. Even if Scott's obsession with theatrical violence can come off as juvenile sometimes, the bloody moments in “Napoleon” are still notable. The sheer destructive powers of cannonballs are displayed when they tear a horse's chest open or rip through a line of insurrectionists. The battle scenes are fittingly chaotic, full of bullets whizzing by and bodies crumbling to the ground. The moment that was most heavily advertised in the trailers, where Napoléon lures the Prussian army out onto an icy lake only to shatter it with artillery, is indeed a highlight of the film. However, a later scene, of the Russian forces leaving the bodies of dead French soldiers hanging from the trees recall the horror movie dread of Scott's “Alien” movies.

By this point, it's a cliché that Ridley Scott's historical epics are almost always abbreviated in theaters. It's all but expected by now that a longer, better, director's cut will emerge at a later date. Indeed, Scott has impishly promised that a four hour long cut of “Napoleon” exists somewhere.  If the theatrical cut of “Napoleon” – already long at 157 minutes – is missing around ninety minutes of footage, that certainly explains some things about its pacing. As it exists now, “Napoleon” does play a bit like the Wikipedia article version of history. It quickly passes through the historical events, reducing many of Napoleon's campaigns and wars down to a single battle each. It feels like a summary of a much longer history at times. 

”Napoleon” was produced by Apple Original Films, the studio shelling out around 200 million dollars in order to get the sometimes critically acclaimed auteur on-board their fledging studio. They marketed the hell out of “Napoleon,” hoping to grab the same crowd that turned up for “Oppenheimer” earlier in the year. It didn't quite work out, as the film underperformed at the box office. It also hasn't become an awards season juggernaut, grabbing only three Oscar nominations in the technical categories. Scott has already moved on to a new studio willing to give him a blank check. I have no doubt that the longer cut of “Napoleon” will be superior, should it ever emerge. As the film exists now, it is a sometimes interesting historical epic, at its best when focusing on the foibles of its legendary protagonist and his lover and far more routine (and clipped down) when dedicating time to the battles you expect to see. [Grade: B-]

Director Report Card: Ridley Scott (2022) Part Two

27. House of Gucci

At this point in his career, I imagine Ridley Scott can do whatever he wants. Maybe he can't single-handedly green light a big budget “Alien” movie but he has his own production company. A-list actors want to work with him. He’s a respected auteur who has been at this for fifty years. So one can only assume that Ridley Scott wants to make a movie like “House of Gucci.” From a distance, the film looks like nothing but the most blatant of Oscar Bait. It’s a true story about family, money, sex, and murder, set in the prestigious world of fashion that plays out over the course of several decades. I can’t blame Scott for wanting an Oscar but, if that was the plan, it didn’t work. “House of Gucci” would receive only one nomination at the 2022 Academy Awards. 

Beginning in late seventies Italy, the film follows Patrizia Regiani. Despite being the daughter of a successful trucking company owner, Patrizia longs to be more. At a party, she meets Maurizio, the two quickly falling for each other. Maurizio is the son of Rudolfo Gucci, the co-owner of the iconic Gucci fashion company. Rudolfo initially disapproves of Maurizio marrying Patrizia but they are accepted by the other branches of the rich family. Soon, they become involved in the family in-fighting over that money and the direction of the famous brand. As scandal continues to circle the Gucci name, Maurizio grows interested in another woman… And Patrizia starts planning to hire a hit man.

Not too long into “House of Gucci,” there’s a scene where Patrizia slips on a slinky negligee and invites Maurizio, who has been working in the sun all day, into the office. The two proceed to enthusiastically bang on the desk. It’s a ridiculous, overheated moment. That’s when something clicked in my brain and I went “Oh, this is opera.” Scott is operating in the same mode here as he did in “Hannibal.” (A film that is also, maybe coincidentally, set in Italy.) The characters are exaggerated, the melodrama runs hot, and the story is concerned with twisted passion, perverse greed, and familial entanglement. In fact, “House of Gucci” seems to rather intentionally ride this tone into the realm of campy comedy. That would certainly explain why everyone in the movie talks with goofy “Mama Mia, that’s-a spicy meatball!” accents. I’m pretty sure all of this is suppose to be funny. 

I opened this review by asking why Ridley Scott chose to make Oscar Bait but, after watching the movie, it’s easy to figure out, Comedy or not, “House of Gucci” tackles some of the themes that Scott has been fascinated with all his career. Namely, Daddy Issues and family backstabbing. Maurizio and his father have a tense relationship, as Rudolfo can’t help but be reminded of his dead wife every time he looks at his boy. When he chooses to marry a woman his dad considers a gold-digger, it just furthers the resentment between them. In-between this and all the talk of betrayal and cash, “House of Gucci” almost feels like a spiritual sequel to “All the Money in the World.”

So “House of Gucci” definitely feels like a Ridley Scott movie. Does it look like one too? Pretty much. By this point in his career, Scott’s dynamic visual style has degraded into a recognizable series of quirks. There’s lots of overcast skies all throughout the film. The drab color saturation is sometimes turned up on the other end of the scale, when Scott wants to emphasize the heat of the Italian midday sun. There’s some interior shots lit by the warm glow of the fireplace too, to provide some of those “Barry Lyndon” vibes that Ridley loves so much. The moment that most reminded me of Scott’s glory days is Maurizio and Patrizia’s date on a row boat, the early morning fog rolling off the water. That was pretty. But the film’s cinematography is definitely more “Exodus” than “Blade Runner.”

If you really want to reach, “House of Gucci” slides in easily next to “All the Money in the World” and “American Gangsters” to form a thematic trilogy. Greed, the haves versus the have-nots, and rise-and-fall story structures all connect these movies. Yet those other Scott movies have kidnappings and an ear being sliced off, exciting shoot-outs and drug deals gone wrong. Most of “House of Gucci” is devoted to long discussions about stocks and business deals. It gets tiresome quickly, especially when spread out over a 158 minute runtime. The film seems to find the behind-the-scenes business decisions of the Gucci empire or people trying to grasp a larger share of the company’s stocks fascinating. The audience — or this viewer anyway — definitely does not.

As I waded through “House of Gucci’s” indeterminable runtime and a script that feels both bloated and underwritten, I tried to find something interesting to latch onto. Patrizia’s story arc is the best thing I could find. She begins the film as the daughter of a successful businessman but it’s not enough for her, as she still feels disrespected in her day-to-day life. The minute she sees how rich Maurizio’s family is, she becomes determined to grab more for herself. She’s constantly telling her husband to get more involved in the business, hatching schemes to seize more control of the Gucci corporation. She’s essentially a femme fatale, plotting and seducing and eventually murdering. But she’s a sympathetic one too, who hopes to escape her middle class upbringing and is determined to hold onto that standing once she achieves it.

That’s an interesting character to center your movie around, especially once you add a degree of ambiguity to the material. Does Patrizia really love Maurizio or is she truly just after his money? It’s a question that runs through the entire film, as even the murder-prompting revenge is motivated as much by her getting cut out of the family as it is his infidelity. Yet if this was meant to be a compelling grey streak throughout, perhaps the film should’ve developed the love story a little more. After only a few meetings, Patrizia and Maurizio are getting married. It seems like the script deliberately skips over most of the important scenes in their relationship. Their children barely get any focus at all and they seem at each other’s throats as often as they are in love. “House of Gucci” probably would’ve worked better overall if the film invested more time or passion into its central romance. 

But the movie’s inability to decide what it’s actually about is a problem it has the entire time. Let’s look at its most unnecessary subplot. Rudolfo’s brother, Aldo, co-owns Gucci. His son, Paolo, fancies himself a fashion designer despite his garish taste. His uncle violently rejects his designs and his father dismisses him as an idiot. Paolo becomes a stooge in Patrizia’s plot to consolidate the family’s riches, his attempt to launch his own brand derailed by a police investigation. If you think that scene must rank as the movie’s most farcical (and one of the few times it is genuinely funny), that’s before we see Aldo and Paolo arguing about washing dishes after the former is released from prison. What does any of this stuff contribute to the film’s overall plot? Not a whole hell of a lot. “House of Gucci” is full of digressive episodes like this, the script’s attention wandering off to bootleg bags, Patrizia’s friendship with a psychic, Tom Ford becoming part of the company, or Mauirizo’s affairs abroad. The movie’s focus is so scattered that the inevitable murder scene ends up feeling like more of an afterthought than a proper climax. 

The unnecessary quality of Paolo’s subplot is not the only reason I muttered “what the fuck is Jared Leto doing in this movie?” while watching “House of Gucci.” Rather than gaining a bunch of weight and giving himself gout again, Hollywood’s most insufferable proponent of the Method is buried under makeup and latex to play Paolo. Leto’s performance is the most exaggerated and cartoonish in a film already full of ghastly overacting. Perhaps because he wanted the audience to notice his capital-A Acting under the prosthetics, Leto effects a Mario accent and overdoes every single line and expression. The character is ridiculous, and Leto is too, but there’s little campy joy among all the flop sweat. The make-up is pretty good, insomuch that Leto is unrecognizable. Yet one must ask why they expended so much time and money making a handsome actor look like a balding, fat guy instead of just hiring one of Hollywood’s many capable balding, fat actors.

Like I said, overacting is the game of the day in “House of Gucci.” Leto has a lot of competition for the title of sweatiest performance in this movie. At first, his casting in this movie looked like another stop on Al Pacino’s late career tour to redeem himself as one of his generation’s greatest actors. Instead, it’s more of the hideous overacting that we’ve come to expect from Al, only missing a hooah or two to be more depressingly muggy. While Pacino and Leto aim for camp, Jeremy Irons seems genuinely conflicted. He’s pulled between the movie’s parade of goofy accents and an attempt to ground the material in some actual emotion. It’s a rare miss for the great actor and a shame too, as Irons is delightful when in bitchy mode. Instead he seems adrift. This is also true of Salma Hayek, another performer who is great at going over-the-top but stuck in a small, thin part here. 

Which brings me to the movie’s leads. Lady Gaga gained most of the movie’s critical praise as Patrizia. Gaga is certainly adapt at a certain type of fiery passion, which is well-served in a few scenes. Yet the script’s stubborn refusal to give any of its characters’ more of an inner life makes Gaga’s posturing seem like nothing but empty theater. And, try as she might, she can’t make the ludicrous accent anything but laughable. Starring opposite her, and in his second co-billing collab with Ridley Scott in 2021, is Adam Driver. While everyone around him overdoes it, Driver goes in the opposite direction. His Maurizio is calm and understated, even when he’s pissed off or horny. Maybe that’s why Driver and Gaga’s chemistry never quite feels like you’d expect it to.

By the way, most of the people depicted in the film are still alive and had largely negative things to say about it. In hopes of not endorsing the actual murderers, the filmmakers never reached out to the real Patrizia or her co-conspirators. Meanwhile, Tom Ford questioned the taste in turning a real life murder into such a tawdry tale. Critics were split — which is probably why only the Academy’s Hair and Make-Up branch felt compelled to spotlight the film — but at least it did better at the box office than Scott’s other 2021 release. Ultimately, “House of Gucci” is a misfire. The film aims for campy humor but good comedy is precise and well-paced, while this movie is unfocused and meandering. This story easily could’ve been trashy tabloid fun but Scott’s focus on the financial side of things drains the narrative of most of its sensationalism, forcing the cast to flounder theatrically. [Grade: C-]

Director Report Card: Ridley Scott (2021) Part One

26. The Last Duel

In 1977, Ridley Scott would begin with career as a feature director with “The Duelists.” Considering the influential classics Scott has contributed to cinema, it was the beginning of a prominent legacy. In 2020, while filming his latest historical epic, Scott was 83 years old. Which is pretty old by any measure. This film was entitled “The Last Duel.” At the time, while wishing no ill will against Sir Scott, I commented that it would be a nice bit of dramatic symmetry if this ended up being his final film, if his career began with “The Duelists” and ended with “The Last Duel.” Of course, the ever-prolific filmmaker immediately went to work on his next project. Due to the pandemic, he already had the follow-up to “The Last Duel” in the can before it was even released. The two films came out mere weeks apart. Nevertheless, there is a feeling of finality in Scott's latest medieval story. 

Set in late 1300s France, “The Last Duel” follows the rivalry between Norman knight Jean de Carrouges and squire Jacques Le Gris. Both are veterans of France's various military campaigns and serve under Count Pierre d'Alencon. After the war, Pierre makes Le Gris responsible for restoring his finances. Carrouges, broke following the death of his wife and son from the plague, marries Marguerite de Thibouville and inherits a large dowry... Which is then seized by the count and given to Le Gris. At a festival, Le Gris meets Marguerite and immediately falls in lust with her. While Carrouges is on an unsuccessful campaign in Scotland, Le Gris breaks into his castle and rapes Marguerite. When she informs her husband of this, he is outraged. Le Gris denies the charges, causing Carrouges to demand a duel with the man. It would be the last judicial duel, in which the winner is declared right by the will of God, ever performed in French history.

“The Last Duel” has a story structure that seems unavoidably inspired by Akira Kurosawa's classic “Rashomon.” It is broken up into three chapters. The first depicts Carrouges' version of events, with Le Gris' account being shown in the second. The third and final chapter follows Marguerite's perspective, which is implied to be the truth. Each chapter progresses a little further into the story, keeping things from getting too repetitive. Moreover, the multi-layered structure gives the same lines of dialogue different meanings. Carrouges asking his wife if she's telling the truth plays very differently in his account of events than in her's. Opinions and depictions of characters change from each chapter, showing us that how we perceive ourselves and how others see us are truly very different. It might seem gimmicky but “The Last Duel's” narrative structure does make it a more compelling film.

Aside from its title and the premise of two dudes fighting, “The Last Duel” doesn't have much in common with Ridley Scott's debut film. That movie was about a long-standing rivalry between two men who hated each other from the moment they met. “The Last Duel” follows the arc of two men starting out as friends but slowly becoming the bitterest of enemies. Carrouges saves Le Gris' life in combat, the two having a mutual respect for each other. (At least that's how Carrouges recalls it.) However, as the count favors Le Gris more and more, it upsets Carrouges' sense of vanity. This is what really makes him hate the squire, even before he assaults his wife. Of course, we later learn that Le Gris has always found Carrouges insufferable, though he didn't tell him that. Nevertheless, “The Last Duel” does a pretty good job of depicting how professional courtesy can rot into murderous rage.

“The Last Duel” allows each of its principal characters to speak for themselves, so each retelling favors their outlook the most. In Jean de Carrouges' version of events, he's a put-upon honorable man. He's served his king and country and just wants financial stability in return. The plague has left him destitute, forcing him to go off on more military missions, as killing people is the only professional experience he has. This presents a rather amusing image of a knight as a broke-ass, blue collar worker. The actions he takes, such as attempting to sue a count and finally challenging Le Gris to the titular duel, he thinks of as increasingly desperate steps to insure he's simply given what he is owed. 

Of course, according to Le Gris, Carrouges is a totally humorless and conceited blowhard. In Le Gris' telling of events, he's the 14th century equivalent of a party guy, reading Latin poetry, having orgies with Count Pierre, and being loyal to his friends. A courtesy kiss he shares with Marguerite becomes a steamier smooch in his version. The two seem to share some chemistry... Which makes it all the more surprising that, even in Le Gris' recollection of events, the sexual assault is not exactly ambiguous. She says no, over and over again, as he forces himself upon her. Even in his own memories, where he's obviously trying to make it seem like she reciprocated his passion, the woman still didn't consent.

That sexual coercion plays a role in a Ridley Scott movie is not too surprising, since it's a topic that's cropped up in his work from time to time. (Though sometimes with xenomorph appendages standing in for less exotic equipment.) What is interesting is how “The Last Duel” explores attitudes towards sex in general in 14th century France. Count Pierre and Le Gris bed multiple women at a time, all their lusty needs satisfied. Carrouges, meanwhile, seems to treat sex as simply a release valve, something to be resolved as quickly as possible. This is best illustrated during a sequence where his beloved mare is mounted by a rogue stallion, a sight that greatly annoys him. He's most concerned with getting an heir, with good breeding, and otherwise thinks of sex as something frivolous.  

And if you're a woman, nobody is especially concerned with your pleasure at all. The third chapter of the film, showing Marguerite de Thibouville's perspective, makes it clear that it sucked to be a woman in the 1380s. Her father marries her off to Carrouges, in a strictly business-like fashion. When their passionless sex life can't produce a son, he becomes increasingly critical of her. Even slut-shaming her for a cleavage-barring top. Her recollection of the assault is the film's most bracing moment, leaving it exactly clear what happened. By asking that her rapist be brought to justice, she brings scrutiny, gossip, and criticism against herself. She's shamed for having admitted she thought De Gris was handsome, even by other women. At this point, “The Last Duel” makes the wider point that maybe it sucks to be a woman in any century, as there's unavoidable parallels here with our recent “Me Too” era. Especially when Marguerite's mother-in-law admits that she's a victim of sexual assault too. 

“The Last Duel” is a compelling narrative that draws you in and keeps you guessing, as it builds atop itself and heads towards its conclusion. Which is a good thing because, from a visual perspective, it's not the most distinct experience. At this point in his career, we know what a Ridley Scott medieval epic looks like. The film has, more or less, the same color palette as “Kingdom of Heaven.” That means lots of dour greys and dirty blues, reflecting the overcast skies and muddy grounds. Scott does include one Kubrick-inspired interior shot, as De Gris and Carrouge talk aside the soft glow of the fireplace. That was a good moment. Yet the innovative cinematography that used to characterize Scott's films have long since given way to a somewhat same-y approach.

If nothing else has united Scott's films in recent years, it's an increasing focus on graphic violence. “The Last Duel” is no different in that regard. In fact, it comes off as especially brutal, even by the standards of this director's career. When we first see Carrouge in combat, he's hacking, stabbing, and bashing his way through other enemy knights. He even wraps his fist in chainmail and punches a face in. All of this proceeds the final duel, which is equally intense in its violence. Horses and random bystanders crumble into bloody piles. The two men wail on each other, their grand duel eventually reduced to them wrestling awkwardly on the ground. It may be excessive but it also makes the point of how self-destructive the men's macho pride is.

If Scott was happy to cast a bunch of white guys as Moses and the Pharaoh in “Exodus” – which “The Last Duel' also resembles visually – obviously he wasn't going to put any actual French people in this. The film is a starring vehicle for Matt Damon and Adam Driver. Both acquaint themselves in the parts well enough. Damon balances enraged pomposity and self-righteous fury as Carrouge, a man keenly obsessed with his own pride. Driver, meanwhile, plays De Gris as a hedonist who can go to any length necessary to justify his own actions. At the same time, Driver adds enough charm to the guy, so that you can believe he would be popular and beloved by those who aren't aware of his full selfishness.

The most reasonable character in the film is of course, Marguerite. Jodie Comer plays her as a woman who, unlike the men around her, actually has been wronged. All she wants is the man who harmed her to be face some consequences for his actions and she's willing to risk everything to insure that. Comer doesn't play her as a heroic woman, simply as someone who has desperately been pushed too far. Driver's part was originally meant to be played by Ben Affleck, who now appears as Count Pierre. If De Gris justifies his hedonistic life style, Affleck's count doesn't bother. He loves to use his power to get what he wants, which is mostly money and women. It's pretty entertaining to watch Affleck camp it up in a role like this.

“The Last Duel” would premiere to less than stellar box office numbers last October. The film was another causality of the Disney buy-out of Fox, with the ongoing pandemic also keeping older audiences away from theaters. The unavoidable fact that non-franchise films don't seem to be making much money in the COVID era is another factor. Ridley, officially in the no-fucks-given stage of his career, blamed the low box office on those goddamn millennials. I think a three hour long movie about rape was always going to be a dicey proposition, commercially speaking. However, the film did win some fine reviews. (Though not a single Oscar nomination. You think it could've sneaked into Production Design or Costumes or something.) I think it's a pretty interesting film and well assembled too. Maybe it's not as good as “Kingdom of Heaven” or “Gladiator.” (Or “The Duellists,” for that matter.) But it's also a lot better than “Robin Hood” and “Exodus.” [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: Ridley Scott (2017) - Part Two

 

25. All The Money in the World

Ridley Scott keeps roughly one hundred different projects in development at all times, so you never can be sure which will emerge as his next movie. When “All the Money in the World” moved to the forefront for the director, it was poised at about the level you'd expect: A respected director was taking on another strange-than-fiction facts-based case, drawing attention from award season prognosticators. Kevin Spacey playing notoriously frugal billionaire J. Paul Getty was expected to be the centerpiece of the movie's Oscar campaign... Before Spacey was outed as a sexual predator and became persona non grata in Hollywood. This forced Scott to recast the part with Christopher Plummer, reshooting some scenes and digitally inserting Plummer into others. Rather than just delay the movie, he pulled all this off mere weeks before the original release date. Because Ridley Scott is a wonderful lunatic. The recasting stunt, and surrounding intrigue, gained “All the Money in the World” far more infamy than it would have had otherwise. 

You may be familiar with the real story. J. Paul Getty brought the oil industry to the Middle East and made himself the richest private citizen in the world, a billionaire in the 1950s. At one point, Getty was close to his son, John Paul Jr., and his grandson, John Paul III. However, after John Paul Jr. fell into drug addiction, and his wife Gail passed up a massive divorce settlement in return for sole custody of their son, J. Paul Getty would largely disown them. In 1973, while in Italy, John Paul Getty III is kidnapped by a circle of professional criminals. They demand 17 million in ransom money. Due to passing on the settlement, Gail does not have this kind of cash. She's forced to ask Getty for the money. The billionaire, however, refuses to pay. Tense negotiations ensue.

Within the context of Scott's wider career, “All the Money in the World” slots in nicely next to “American Gangster.” Both are about opposing people with wildly different relationships with money. J. Paul Getty was the world's first billionaire and he didn't get that way by giving money away. He's depicted here as a cruel businessman, who obsesses over the stock ticker even while his grandson is being kept as a hostage. Who only agrees to help pay the ransom once it's determined he can write the money off on his taxes. Gail Harris, meanwhile, has no money. She cares nothing for business and is more concerned with her family, which stymies and angers her father-in-law. “All the Money in the World” largely plays out as a battle of wills between these two forces, a man who knows nothing but greed and a woman motivated more by empathy, with the life of a boy hanging in the balance.

J. Paul Getty is depicted as a man almost unable to relate to other people. When he first interacts with his grandson, when he's only a boy, it's through a museum gift shop trinket he pretends is a valuable historical relic. He can relate to Paul Getty III only as an extension of his own legacy, telling the boy that he's extending a bloodline of kings. In place of family members, Getty surrounds himself with objects. Expensive paintings and works of art fill his home. When he should be paying for his grandson's life, he instead buys another classical painting. (Which is of the Christ child, a bit of visual irony the film can't resist.) He can possess things, using them to bolster his own fortune, while people have their own wills and needs. In other words, “All the Money in the World” is a portrait of another billionaire sociopath whose fortune has hardened his heart to any sort of empathy.

It's easy to see why “All the Money in the World” appealed to Ridley Scott. The conflict between Getty, the richest of the rich, and Gail, a humble single mom, continues the working class themes that occasionally emerge from the director's films. More pressing is how the themes of conflict between children and their father figures continues to emerge in Scott's latter day work. When Gail is married to John Paul Jr., the eldest Getty accepts her as part of the family. When they divorce, Gail rejects the Getty family pay-out – the only language J. Paul really speaks – in favor of keeping her kids. J. Paul Getty sees this as a personal insult, a rejection of his whole identity. Thus begins the petty punishment of his former daughter-in-law and grandchildren, Mr. Getty emerging as the worst kind of father figure: Those who enact hateful revenge on their children, born and adopted, for not matching up with his desires for them.

“All the Money in the World” leaps around in time but is primarily set in 1973. That was right when the Vietnam War was still raging, when the western world of capitalism was still trying to impose its will on the communist corners of the globe. When John Paul III is first kidnapped, the activity is initially blamed on left-wing terrorists. This proves to be a misunderstanding, as career criminals with Mafia ties were instead responsible for the ransom. Yet it nevertheless gives us a peek at the political climate of the day: When the entrenched forces of old money were fearful of the radicalized youth... Who were actually no threat to them all, as more vicious forms of regular old greed were instead what was chipping at their fortunes. The film says all of this without ever mentioning hippies or the war in Vietnam.

“All the Money in the World” is almost a movie split in two. While one half focuses on the negotiations with the eldest Getty, the other details on the youngest Getty's kidnapping. This part of the film functions like an especially grim thriller. John is put through hell. He's kidnapped, chained up, and threatened. He witnesses one of his kidnappers getting shot right in front of him. His health deteriorates and he's traded back and forth by various criminals. You really feel sorry for the kid, played well by the ironically named Charlie Plummer. This part of the film peaks with several key scenes. Getty nearly escapes, running to a near-by home, before his captors catch up with him. Even after his ransom is paid, he feels like he has to run. Which leads to an overly long denouncement, only adding to the movie's slightly shaggy 132-minute runtime. That too long conclusion ensures the film ends on a bit more of a whimper than a bang.

Since it's a Ridley Scott movie made in the last ten years, you can count on one thing about “All the Money in the World.” It's going to look a specific way. Scott's use of color correction is as present as ever before. Presumably to match the hundred dollar bills at the story's center, Scott adds a greenish tint to many of the movie's scenes. And because some things never change, the director throws in lots of stylish lighting too. This is most apparent when John Paul III is in captivity, with the rare rays of light shinning into his prison cell through small windows. Or the noir-inspired finale, which features lots of people running through the darkened streets of Italy at night. Scott even indulges in that old favorite of his, rolling fog banks, briefly during a walk around J. Paul Getty's estate early in the film.

Ridley Scott being who he is, he still can't help but include some graphic violence. When the police raid the area where John Paul III was being kept, it devolves quickly into a shoot-out with the kidnappers. Cue slow-motion shots of red mist exploding from people's bodies as they are gunned down. Of course, Ridley saves the most prominent burst of crimson for the most infamous moment in the entire case: When John Paul's ear is sliced off. It's a grim and intense moment which is topped off with an almost comical spurt of blood. It seems, at this point in his career, the director has forgotten how to treat violence in any way besides theatrical and exaggerated. Again, this works fine for an “Alien” sequel or a gladiator movie but feels out-of-place in a fact-based drama like this.

Though Scott initially planned to cast Natalie Portman in the role, Michelle Williams would ultimately win the role of Gail Ferris. Williams, affecting an interesting accent, plays Ferris as a woman who is desperate but rarely lets it show. She is terrified for her son's life yet absolutely disgusted to have to ask her former father-in-law for help. She's tossed about by the wild wills of the story and, though she's clearly on the edge of cracking the whole time, keeps it together. The moment when Ferris turns the tables on Getty, when she “starts to think like a Getty,” is such a powerful moment of victory for her.

Mark Wahlberg plays Fletcher Chace, Getty's adviser that is dispatch to negotiate with the kidnappers. Wahlberg is an actor that, when paired with a challenging script and filmmaker, can deliver vulnerable and thoughtful performance. Yet, too often, he's content to shout and squint his way through indistinct macho tough guy roles. This film finds him operating between those two poles. Wahlberg brings a certain intimidating energy to the role of Chace, successfully selling the image that this is a man who has experience with all sorts of things. At the same time, the script gives Wahlberg opportunities to turn up the volume and act like a tough guy. This is most clear during the moment when he's finally fed up with Getty and chews him out, which was obviously Wahlberg's Oscar clip moment. The former Marky Mark just isn't compelling when he's playing that note.

Even if he was a last minute replacement, Christopher Plummer still manages to steal the show for most of the movie. Plummer's J. Paul Getty is cankerous yet undeniably witty, throwing out piercing lines of dialogue at the people he perceives as inferior. (Which is almost everyone.) Plummer, of course, excels at this kind of character. Yet Getty is more than just a vicious old man. There's a humanity to the character, who does feel hurt by Gail's rejection of the family fortune, which is everything to him. He's surrounded himself with things, instead of people. When death finally comes for him, those same things are unable to bring him any comfort. Plummer dominates the film, the story being its most compelling when he is on-screen. It's hard to imagine Kevin Spacey, buried under old-age make-up, doing much better than that.

Plummer's late entrance into the film not only earned “All the Money in the World” most of its press, he also grabbed the film's sole Oscar nomination. The movie would later become notorious for another reason, when it became public knowledge that Mark Wahlberg made a million dollars for the re-shoots while Michelle Williams was only paid eighty dollars an hour. Which made the movie a rallying cry for the Time's Up movement. I'm not going to hold Hollywood's wretched gender politics against the movie though. “All the Money in the World” is too long and a little burdened with its own performances. It's also a fairly entertaining thriller, that keeps the audience pulled along through all the unexpected developments of the story, with two strong performances in its favor. [Grade: B]

Ridley Scott is currently 83 years old. IMDb currently lists him with eighteen different projects in development as a producer. Of those, he's attached to six as a potential director. Some of those proposed movies, like a long-gestating sequel to “Gladiator” or another “Alien” movie, are unlikely to make it out of the developmental phases. Even these titles are just a fraction of the projects for the director that have been announced or floated. The point remains that Sir Scott has to be among the busiest octogenarians in Hollywood right now. Just this year, he has two new releases planned for plum award season release dates. The first of which is “The Last Duel,” another medieval epic, and the second of which is “House of Gucci,” a sprawling generational story about family, greed, and crime. Both of those sound squarely within the Ridley Scott wheelhouse. 

At the end of a month devoted entirely to Ridley Scott movies, what's my final verdict on the director? Is he the great auteur he's sometimes hailed as? Or merely a reliably busy professional that has stumbled into some all-time classics? It's fair to say that Scott's prolific quality means he's made some forgettable, or otherwise unimpressive, movies over the years. While his visual style is usually pretty distinctive, the thematic through-lines in many of his films – the later ones especially – are not as rewarding. Yet you can't fault the director for always being ambitious. A Ridley Scott movie is always aiming for some big goals, usually big ideas too, even if the finalized film ends up being mediocre or a new classic. 

Director Report Card: Ridley Scott (2017) - Part One

24. Alien: Covenant

From the beginning, Ridley Scott envisioned “Prometheus” as a trilogy. In the run-up to the film's release, he talked often of his future plans for the burgeoning franchise. He saw the “Alien” connection as a jumping-off point for a new epic sci-fi series, that would explore huge questions about existence and creation. “Prometheus” was not a box office flop. Yet its gross was not spectacular either, which is not the kind of news movie studios want to hear when planning a big-budget science fiction franchise. For years, Fox waffled back and forth on whether or not a “Prometheus” sequel would be moving forward. It wasn't until after the massive success of Scott's “The Martian” that Fox agreed to fund a follow-up... Which was pointedly advertised not as a “Prometheus” sequel but as a new entry in the “Alien” mother franchise. “Alien: Covenant” would open in summer of 2017. 

Ten years after the ill-fated voyage of the Prometheus, the colonization ship Covenant has gone into space. The crew is seeking out the planet Origae-6, with the intention of building a new home there. As they rest in cryo-sleep, and are watched over by android Walter, a solar flare rips through the ship. The crew is woken up and several sleeping members die. As they make repairs, a strange signal is detected. This leads them to an uncharted planet that is seemingly an even better fit for human life than their intended destination. Upon landing on the world, several crew members are infected by strange spores. This causes a bizarre, fearsome monsters to grow inside their bodies and burst out. The remaining crew, including Walter and Katherine Daniels, are rescued by the android David, the sole survivor of the Prometheus... Yet David is not what he appears to be and more horrors await the team of the Covenant.

After the release of “Prometheus,” Ridley Scott publicly said that the star monster of the “Alien” franchise would not be appearing in the sequel. The director felt the xenomorph was overexposed and no longer scary, saying “the beast is cooked.” It's become increasingly obvious that “Prometheus” was an attempt to launch a new sci-fi series off the back of “Alien's” iconic status. Fans were not receptive to “Prometheus” tip-toeing around its prequel status, which might've contributed to its only good, not great, box office. And so the studio went into damage control mode. “Alien: Covenant,” from the title on-down, announces its connection to the sci-fi/horror franchise. In fact, “Covenant” goes out of its way to remind viewers of “Alien.” It has a strong, female protagonist fighting off a monster as it stalks her through a cavernous ship. There's eggs, facehuggers, chestbursters, and lots of gory monster mayhem. “Alien: Covenant” is so eager to return to the franchise's roots that it sometimes feels like a greatest hits reel of the more ambitious entries in the series. 

“Alien: Covenant” isn't just eager to remind fans of the “Alien” movies they actually liked. It's eager to bury “Prometheus'” lingering plot points in as brisk a manner as possible. Elizabeth Shaw is killed off-screen, Noomi Rapace appearing strictly inside a prequel short that was released as part of the movie's promotional circuit. Instead of digging more into the Engineers' society and their connection to humanity – which was presumably the original plan for the sequel – the entire race is killed off in one spectacular act of genocide. Yet as much as “Covenant” wants to distance itself from its controversial predecessor, it can't help but resemble it in some ways. Much like in “Prometheus,” these space explorers get themselves into some serious trouble by acting foolishly. If the Covenant crew had kept their space suits on after landing on the mysterious planet, the entire movie's plot could've been avoided. That seems like common sense when landing on unknown alien worlds.

This is not the film's only relationship with its contentiously regarded forerunner. “Prometheus” was sold as a prequel to “Alien,” that would finally reveal the definitive origin behind the mysterious monster. The film pointedly did not do that, much to fans' consternation. “Covenant” seeks to provide answers which, as answers all too often are, prove deeply unsatisfying. The reveal that the Xenomorph is the creation of one unhinged android with a God complex sure doesn't feel like the mythic origin point fans have always imagined for the murderous beasts. It would also make complete mincemeat of the series' timeline, including some events in “Prometheus.” This has led to debate and argument among fans, nerds, and Wiki-editors. (Apparently, earlier drafts specified that David was merely seeking to replicate the Engineers' creation but this line was cut from the final film.) Whether “Covenant” is meant to depict the birth of the entire xenomorph species, or merely an off-shoot of it, is besides the point. Within the movie, it still feels like a half-baked excuse to get the classical alien into the story.

However, I do think “Alien: Covenant” does a better job than “Prometheus” of balancing its status as a philosophical sci-fi movie with big ideas and a gory, lowbrow monster movie. From the beginning, the movie wears its high-minded ideas on its sleeve. The opening scene is a discussion between David and his creator. This immediately establishes the movie's obsession with conception, fatherhood, and creation. The Covenant mission is designed to populate a barren planet, with the crew made up of couples and a payload of freeze-dried test-tube babies. David wants to create life himself, to birth a perfect specimen. Considering the “Alien” series has always been concerned with impregnation and sexual violation, it makes so much sense to theme an entire prequel around giving birth to life forms. 

Of course, these ideas connect organically with “Prometheus'” own themes. Scott's overly ambitious previous entry in this universe was about finding and confronting our own creators. This tied into not just the director's long-held fascination with religious imagery but also themes of fatherhood. That is taken even further in “Covenant.” David met the Engineers, humanity's fathers, and now he has killed them. Having murdered these gods, he seeks to become God himself and do their creation one better. The deeper implications within these ideas, of a creation of mankind destroying mankind's creators and seeking to make something himself, are rich and can be discussed into the ground. 

Even if fans were split on “Prometheus,” most agreed that David was the most interesting character in the film. Building a large chunk of the sequel around the android was a smart idea. Even smarter was pairing David with Walter, a nearly identical later model of android. Contrasting with David's obsession with perfecting life, Walter is a refined version of David. His behavior is more mechanical than his predecessor, because David's human-like behavior stumbled into the Uncanny Valley for many people. David wants to make life, make art, while Walter is content just being a servant to humanity. (Acting a lot like “Aliens'” Bishop.) The contrast between the two machines is really interesting. It also allows Michael Fassbender to create two distinct, fascinating characters – that can never be mistaken for each other, despite sharing a face – that play off each other beautifully. 

“Prometheus” would ultimately tease fans, by giving us a peek at a xenomorph-like creature literally right before the credits rolled. “Covenant” presents us with its own prototype xenomorph but this one gets a starring role. The so-called Neomorph enters the world in an even ghastlier parody of child birth than the typical “Alien.” It bursts from whatever orifice is most convenient, a disgusting escalation of the original monster's already horrific birth. The creature emerges as a screaming, pale fetus that lashes out violently minutes after being born. Its semi-translucent, pale flesh resembles a baby, sperm, and an anus, which fits in with the franchise tradition of disturbing, casual sexual imagery. It's an effective contribution to the “Alien” legacy.

Yet, because it's so determined to recall previous entries in the series, “Covenant” most eventually introduce a more traditional xenomorph. (Though it has some subtle differences from the classic version.) At this point, “Covenant” leans the most into paying homage to the original films. That doesn't mean these scenes don't work. Ridley Scott knows how to direct a monster movie. The alien leaping from the shadows and attacking is intense. There's a soft creepiness to the security footage of the monster slithering around the ship's interior. A fight with the monster aboard the ship's deck suitably escalates in intensity. This alien is a slobbering, fearsome beast that smashes through glass, runs at high speeds, and refuses to die. When paired with the twitching, sickening body-horror of the first act, it makes for a good time. This is a solid monster movie.

“Covenant's” Katherine Daniels may stand in the shadow of Ellen Ripley but I found myself liking the character anyway. She's more vulnerable than Ripley, crying for her dead husband all throughout the movie. (Denied her own chance at off-spring, making her stand apart from the movie's obsession with conception.) Mostly, I like the character because Katherine Waterston is fantastic in the part. She so perfectly vulnerable in the early scenes, making you care about her. When she straps on a machine gun and goes after the monster personally, you believe that too, Waterston making for a convincing action heroine. Like the xenomoprh, she's a survivor that keeps fighting and doesn't give up easily. She's a worthy successor to Sigourney Weaver, if there ever was one.

Unfortunately, Daniels is also the only crew member of the Covenant that you really care about. There's thirteen people on the ship to begin with, which is way too many. Most of these characters end up being slaughtered by the aliens, in various way, and their deaths have no effect on us. Some of them, like Amy Seimetz' Faris, end up dying because of their own foolishness. Danny McBride and Billy Crudup attempt to flesh out their characters but they never get far beyond the thin descriptions of “cowboy-style pilot” and “religious conservative captain.” “Alien: Covenant” has been unflatteringly compared to eighties slasher flicks. Considering its forgettable characters exist largely to add to a body count, with two of them even deciding to jump into the shower for some hanky-panky at the worst possible moment, the comparison isn't unreasonable. 

“Prometheus” was a deeply, deeply flawed movie but it looked fucking nice. The same is also true of the sequel. Ridley Scott digs deep into his toolbox to create a movie visually inspired by the gothic horror tradition. The caves and ships of the unnamed planet resemble the tombs and chapels of a vampire movie. (Along with some lit-by-candles style lighting, presumably because Sir Ridley couldn't help himself.) The interior of the space ships feel like the winding hallways of a haunted house, full of panels and computers glowing ominously in the dark. The movie has the same overly gray coloration that Scott has utilized too often in the last decade but it's still a pretty slick looking motion picture. Especially in the climatic fight in a loading bay, when the ship's gravity and the weightlessness of space create an uncanny floating affect.

Like a lot of sequels that attempt to win back fans after a divisive entry, “Alien: Covenant” ended up pleasing few people. Those that liked “Prometheus” were disappointed that “Covenant” fled from the previous film's story and themes so bluntly. Those that didn't like “Prometheus” accused “Covenant” of being derivative and desperate. Neither of these critiques are wrong. At the same time, a gorgeous sci-fi spectacle that fuses gory monster movie chaos with high-minded themes is right in my wheelhouse. “Alien: Covenant” made about half as much as “Prometheus” at the box office, making its sequel-teasing cliffhanger ending seem hopelessly optimistic in retrospect. While Ridley Scott was hopeful he'd get to finish his new trilogy at one point, the acquisition of Fox by Disney has thrown the entire future of the franchise into question. If this really is the end of the line for the face-hugging, chest-bursting, extra-jawed terrors from space, it's far from a satisfying one... Yet it's also not bad either, managing to entertain on its own merits more often than not. [Grade: B]