Prometheus was utterly retarded. They're gonna start shooting the sequel(s) this Fall with a launch date of March 2016.
I'm not sure what Ridley was thinking about greenlighting such a retarded script. I'd rather liked him handing over the franchise to someone else and focus on the Blade Runner sequel entirely.
I'd put the blame entirely upon the director. The script was a fairly interesting exploration of religion and meaning, and in particular, what makes something a god. The direction seems like he didn't really understand any of those themes. This was a problem, because we live in an era where philosophical exploration of religious concepts has dropped out of our literary language - even the religious folk are only interested in having films confirm their faith, rather than any serious thematic examination of the concepts.
To give one example - the male lead's (forgotten his name, but the main character's co-researcher) suicide. Despite being a fairly direct analogue to the various existentialist protagonists of Sartre, Camus etc (where a guy suddenly realises that the thing that he thought gave meaning/value to everything in his life either doesn't exist or doesn't really have that objective value, and subsequently despairs at the realisation that everything in his life is meaningless), many people couldn't understand why he chooses suicide. At a script level, it's both straightforward, and something that has worked in many pieces of early-20th century literature. Each of the characters 'worships' (for lack of a better word) the one thing that they think gives everything else meaning. For the female exec, it's herself but in a purely material/hedonistic sense (hence she
must choose a doomed/horrible extra month in the escape pod instead of a slightly earlier death), for Guy Pierce's CEO it's immortality (he could
never accept that he's had enough, like Theron pleads, as without immortality he has
nothing), for the minor scientists it's their research, for Fassbender's android it's humanity (most of his dialogue, and his character generally, are about the implications of actually knowing that your god exists, especially when your god isn't perfect), Idris Elba is basically Marlowe from HoD (the humble grind of daily lives and work > ideals and gods; hence he
must sacrifice himself to save earth, otherwise his life has no more value than a rock)...and for the male lead, it's the God of the Abrahamic religions.
The film's basic thesis is that godhood doesn't require benevolence or omnipotence, but incomprehensibility. The more they learn about the engineers, the less godlike they become, until the last sequence when their decision-making (specifically, that they changed their mind about Earth) is revealed as utterly incomprehensibly alien, and hence they're godlike once more. The male lead's suicide comes at the low-point for their godhood - when they've been reduced, in the eyes of the film and characters, to people with better technology (hence his sardonic line about creation being easy, and that any old bunch of idiots can do it if they have good enough tools). His suicide, at a script level, makes sense - he's discovered that there is no god, because the thing he thought was good turned out to be no better than him (in a normative sense, not in terms of power obviously), and so nothing in the universe can have meaning or value, not even his life. The script itself pays a lot of attention to this process - he's disappointed first of all, he drops his caution in a 'what's the fucking point' manner, by the time they get back to the ship he switches between anger and despair and gives voice to his mental workings (the aforementioned bit about creation), he acts like a jealous prick to the one crewmember who knows his god exists (the android) and taunts him specfically about being an android (in a way that draws attention to his own dilemma), he tries to drown his sorrows in hedonism (and, specifically, sex) and then the infection becomes apparent and he lets himself be shut outside instead of seeking treatment.
Now, what does the director do about framing this critical character progression? He shoots it as though it's nothing more than a mechanical series of events, merely some 'stuff' happening in between the character getting infected and dying. Ridley Scott should have been well aware that modern literary education no longer addresses the classical exploration of religious concepts, as well as that few audience members are versed in French existentialism - there's no excuse for assuming that the audience would just 'read' the character's mental journey and motivations. Compare the directorial non-effort here to the way that Sartre introduces the moment at which Roquentin makes the same realisation (that nothing has objective meaning/value) in Nausea - i.e. the titular onset of nausea, with a vivid description of the character being suddenly ill and, for a few moments that seem like an eternity, not able to make out anything around him as it all gets lost in the sensation that nothing is like he thought it was. The reader doesn't need any previous familiarity with the concepts to know that this is central to the character's motivations, and to the story's themes. By framing it as just a series of events, Scott allows the audience to just superimpose their own worldview onto the character - suicide wouldn't make any sense
for them, the director has done nothing to let them into the character's head, so how could they understand the character's motivations?
My suspicion that Scott didn't understand these themes was strengthened by some unhelpful directorial choices about character reactions. In particular, he has the male lead react with
shock and fear at the realisation that he's infected. The character should be
no longer capable of shock or fear. All sense of meaning and value is draining out of his worldview, and he's coming to the realisation that his life no longer matters to him - there's nothing he can be afraid of. The scene where he notices the infection in his eye should have been shot with his reaction being one of clinical detachment, so that he knows he
should be scared and tell people, but all he can muster is 'hmm...a change. Isn't that fascinating'. Similarly, Scott films the sex scene between him and the female lead as though it's just a bog-standard sex scene - it is so lacking in any kind of thematic direction that it's clear Scott had no idea why the scene is there and included it 'just because'. It should have been filmed so as to feel sharply, weirdly, cold. Scott needed to convey that he's getting nothing out of the sex; that it's something he's doing because he's trying to drown himself with hedonism and this is something that he knows
should be hedonistically meaningful to him.
Even if you only reshoot those two scenes, the effect would be remarkable. After abusing the android (which was handled rather well) and half-drunkly moping about the triviality of creation, he throws himself into sex, but finds it weirdly cold. In a long, uncomfortable scene, he's having sex as though it's the driest of mechanical tasks - he's getting nothing out of it. He sits up in bed after it's finished, not angry or upset anymore, just empty. Then straight from bed he notices something disturbingly wrong about his eye. It's quite clearly infected. His lover is heard from the next room 'Is everything okay?'. 'It's fine' he says, completely detached. Zoom in so his eye is occupying a quarter of the frame, and his expression of detached clinical interest occupies the rest of it.
I think that, by itself, would make the process from 'there are no gods' to 'suicide' much easier to follow.
Ridley Scott has done almost the same set of themes once before - in his masterpiece, Bladerunner. In that film, he absolutely nailed them, especially the idea of meeting one's flawed and unfair maker. But think how much help he gave the audience there - when the lead replicant kills his 'god', it's with power-orchestra in the backround, the light in a near-halo around them, and him literally on his knees before his 'lord', hands outstretched in a way that looks like worship even when he's gouging the guy's eyes out, and weeping uncontrollably. Maybe it's because he expected the audience to be as familiar with the concepts as he is, but Scott films Prometheus like it's a shallow action film, whilst expecting the audience to intuit the themes for themselves.