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Oh poor noble Charlie!Image

Those pesky minipedes just don’t appreciate that Charlie Holloway (Logan Marshall-Green) is too damn handsome to die. Charlie provides the best evidence as to why Meredith Vickers is an android: no real woman could blowtorch that face.

All joking aside (well a bit to one side anyway), in addition to being a brilliant archaeologist, Charlie is also Elizabeth’s main squeeze. After getting his drink spiked with black goo by the heartless android, this minipede infected love-machine get the previously infertile Dr Shaw up the duff with a darling little baby squid-facehugger. So romantic.

Shortly afterwards he gets blow-torched by Meredith Vickers when she refuses to allow the infected doctor back on board the Prometheus. In Vickers’ defence: he does ask her to do it.

The extent of Holloway’s character development comes from him becoming depressive when they discover all the Engineers are long dead. And perking up again when Ward announces that engineer and human dna is a match. Holloway, like Shaw, isn’t particularly convincing as a scientist. He makes huge assumptions about the Engineers, their motivations and abilities based on pure supposition. He is also motivated not by a spirit of adventure or the thrill of exploring the unknown – but by a specific desire to meet the Engineers and ask them questions. As Shaw’s character is essentially a woman of faith (as well as science) this kind of works – but with Holloway it doesn’t. What scientist gets to go in a space ship, land on a planet, discover oodles of alien structures and technology – plus some nice dead bodies (trust me archaeologists get very excited about these) – and then get all mopy and depressive?

And why does David put the black liquid in his drink? I imagine the answer is: to see what will happen. He is after all working for Weyland and will do whatever it takes to find a means of prolonging his life. Just why David thinks some millennia old black goo from a suspicious looking urn might be the elixir of life is beyond me – but there you go.

Every archaeologist has his end away. And then he gets blow-torched. It’s inevitable.

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