Nothing could possibly satisfy the fervent expectation that has built for Ridley Scott’s sorta-prequel to his genre-defining “Alien,” but “Prometheus,” the director’s return to science fiction for the first time in 30 years, comes close.
Strikingly beautiful, expertly paced, vividly detailed and scary as hell, it holds you in its grip for its entirety and doesn’t let go. You’ll squeal, you’ll squirm — at one point, I was curled up in a little ball in my seat in a packed screening room — and you’ll probably continue feeling a lingering sense of anxiety afterward. That’s how effective it is in creating and sustaining an intensely suspenseful mood.
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