THE COMMERCIAL FILM OF THE WEEK
ALIEN: COVENANT (2017) by Ridley Scott
“How Noah encountered Dr. Moreau in Pompeii post Vesuvius”
Let’s put ourselves in situation. In the 1970s, a middle age Ridley – like all those who leave the Royal College of Art, pseudo virgin in the seventh art – sets to assemble models of ships of towage load and to illuminate tubular corridors as if there were no tomorrow. The result, a poetic work by imperfect, corporeal by birth, lucid in the naif choice of times and weight of each painting. A meticulous exercise in style always alert of the visual ingredient appropriate for the comfortable development of the moral of these films, that is to say, the victory of the autochthon – of the patriotic – on the foreigner. Our Alien, and I suppose that of Scott (in case we continue to believe, according to his later downhill that “Eighth passenger” and “Blade Runner” are his and not the ghost-writer of Ana Rosa Quintana), I didn’t want to be more than the others, he had no idea of theology, of Wagner, and, of course, he had not given him a document on the good work of the conquerors, or read the stories of the American pioneers. He just wanted to hide and leave, very occasionally, very handsome for the photo.
So far all in order, nothing new under the sun, well yes, the “Prometheus”, carrier as she alone of a virus capable of pulverizing engineers, communicologists, laboratory technicians and, ultimately, every bug fan regardless of their academic level. With the slab on the wrong side of the job, Ridley has chosen to exercise his moonwalk right and return to the original structure, the slasher, which says that if they go seven on a ship and It lands on the wrong planet, six end up into the catastrophe and the young girl in suspenders, drenched in sweat and a clean shot with the entity. Everything in order again, nothing new, well yes, a boat – the Covenant by God’s grace and work – which, despite following the words of “Mother”, takes the exit that goes by star of the ninth passenger, the one who -whose brother-in-law doesn’t cease in his attempt to give us references for dummies, historical analogies, baritone mythologies and other decorative jokes. This doesn’t fix it neither the apostles of James Franco nor the Fassbender of Hamelin…
Traducido por: Eduardo LLorente
Our rating: (1/5)
