Deux-less

Alex Garland’s “Ex Machina” is, without exaggeration, the scariest science fiction movie of the past decade. The well-worn theme of inexorable human ambition is given a fresh, new direction; it is examined, dissected and questioned like never before. The movie’s release couldn’t have been more timely, what with Internet giants obsessing over the development of A.I., quantum computing and the transcendence of Moore’s law seemingly just around the corner, and that ever-widening ridge between our technological achievements and our floundering ethical values. It is a wake-up call, a doomsday warning bell, a slap in the face of the complacent technologist that resides within each of us today.

The film has only three major characters, two of which - Nathan Bateman and Caleb Smith - complement each other in their personalities. Caleb is shy, considerate, impulsive. He is steeped in idealism, and quotes philosophers and scientists frequently. Nathan is cold, irreverent, moody. His extreme devotion to the development of A.I. has blinded him to the dire repercussions of “playing God”. The third character, Ava, is a robot, and hence represents intelligence of a more collective than individual kind. It is both intriguing and disturbing to watch the two individuals grapple with the collective in their own different ways.

We see the world through the eyes of Caleb, a young programming prodigy. We are Caleb. We see him winning a lottery and getting the chance to spend a week with his genius employer, Nathan. He is neither overly happy with the news nor amazed. Just plain baffled. As he flies over his host’s scenic “estate” like a young Jonathan Harker on his way to visit Count Dracula, we get a sense of foreboding in the uncontrolled wilderness of the surroundings; this is not going to end well. This feeling stays with us throughout the movie as we watch the clueless Caleb try to struggle past hurdle after psychological hurdle: Meeting and testing an advanced A.I. for the first time, finding out that he empathizes with her, dealing with the contradicting statements made by Nathan the creator and Ava, his creation, and above all, questioning his own moral compass. Each new twist to the plot only adds to Caleb’s growing discomfort, and therefore, to our discomfort.

For mainstream Science Fiction fare, Ex Machina shows quite some dexterity in its application of visual grammar. Nathan’s abode is spartan but rustically rocky, where classical piano tunes play over waterfalls gushing not a hundred meters away. A marvelous Pollack shares the building with a robot. Ominous long shots of fog-covered gorges and mountains are intercut with static views of the mansion’s monolithic rooms. Here, man is taking a stand against nature, and deep inside, we know that nature will find a subversive way around. Nathan’s mansion also teems with glass and other reflective surfaces, and reflections, shadows and mirror images galore.

This is where we find Ex Machina at its darkest, at the dichotomy that lies at the heart of the film. Here is a movie that is full of life and simultaneously completely devoid of it. At times, it seems to fill us with hope, only to have us dragged back into the abyss of uncertainty and despair. The world of Ex Machina is a universe that is as hopelessly dual as ours, one where renewed freedom and self-discovery seem to go together with ignorance and desolation.

For hours after watching “Ex Machina” I found it difficult to focus my thoughts onto my daily routine. I’m not even sure if I “like” it. Indeed, it is not an easy watch. And that, rather than mere personal like or dislike, is the true litmus test here; if you find yourself unsettled enough at the end of the movie, I believe Garland’s efforts have paid off.