Brazil was a weird movie. Maybe the weirdest we've watched. Weirdest I've seen in a long, long time.
There was discussion in class about whether this movie really counts as "sci-fi." I'd say it does. It's a vision of the future. Just not our future. It's a deconstruction of the future people envisioned decades ago: the future where everything is sleek and shiny. With bright, loopy, neon lights. With towering art deco skyscrapers, silver and gold. But most especially, a future with order. A future that is run by a system, with organization and neatness and a place for everything.
In a sense it parallels 1984, but visually, at least, it deconstructs the art deco future. It combines that bright, shiny, retro aestheic with the film noir look of the same period. It shows the shadowy side of that bright future. That, at least, is something I'd never seen before.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
MOMMY DON'T LEAVE ME
So. Artificial Intelligence. Weird movie.
I guess I'll just come right out and say it. What makes us human? According to A.I., the ability to dream is what makes us human. The ability to have goals and work towards them. That makes us fundamentally different from machines, who can only repeat the same pattern over and over again.
So I decided, at the end of A.I., that David was human. Not literally; he was manufactured, not born. But he was human all the same. His love for his mother was genuine and real, because it carried him all the way to "The End of the World." If he hadn't truly loved her, if he hadn't truly wanted her to love him in return, then he wouldn't have bothered.
It seems clear to me that David was supposed to be something entirely different from the other machines in the movie. Nowhere is this made clearer than with the line, "Mecha don't plead for their lives! That's a boy!" Because it seemed to be very true. The robots didn't plead for their lives, because they had no goals. And because they had no goals they had no self-preservation instinct. Their lives didn't mean anything to themselves. But when David was staring "death" in the face, he pleaded. Why? Because he had to become a real boy. He couldn't let himself be killed before he had achieved his goal of being a good son. His love must have been true indeed.
Some critics called the character of Gigolo Joe "useless" but I think he was very necessary, so we could see the difference between mechanical "love" and the genuine, powerful love that David was capable of feeling. Joe was programmed to love and so he could only repeat a set pattern; David was different. He set his own pattern and followed it through to its conclusion. Even after his mother dumped him in the forest, he determined his own destiny. He made his own path. Whereas Joe was content to go wherever the wind blew him. He had no dreams. He didn't want anything more than to "please" girls physically; that's what he was made for. But David wanted much more than that: he wanted to exceed his programming. He wanted to exceed his own machine-ness and become human. He wanted to defy the limits placed upon him by his "birth."
No other mecha in the movie demonstrated this. That means that David was fundamentally different from "regular" machines, but not fundamentally different from humans. I'm going to go with human.
I guess I'll just come right out and say it. What makes us human? According to A.I., the ability to dream is what makes us human. The ability to have goals and work towards them. That makes us fundamentally different from machines, who can only repeat the same pattern over and over again.
So I decided, at the end of A.I., that David was human. Not literally; he was manufactured, not born. But he was human all the same. His love for his mother was genuine and real, because it carried him all the way to "The End of the World." If he hadn't truly loved her, if he hadn't truly wanted her to love him in return, then he wouldn't have bothered.
It seems clear to me that David was supposed to be something entirely different from the other machines in the movie. Nowhere is this made clearer than with the line, "Mecha don't plead for their lives! That's a boy!" Because it seemed to be very true. The robots didn't plead for their lives, because they had no goals. And because they had no goals they had no self-preservation instinct. Their lives didn't mean anything to themselves. But when David was staring "death" in the face, he pleaded. Why? Because he had to become a real boy. He couldn't let himself be killed before he had achieved his goal of being a good son. His love must have been true indeed.
Some critics called the character of Gigolo Joe "useless" but I think he was very necessary, so we could see the difference between mechanical "love" and the genuine, powerful love that David was capable of feeling. Joe was programmed to love and so he could only repeat a set pattern; David was different. He set his own pattern and followed it through to its conclusion. Even after his mother dumped him in the forest, he determined his own destiny. He made his own path. Whereas Joe was content to go wherever the wind blew him. He had no dreams. He didn't want anything more than to "please" girls physically; that's what he was made for. But David wanted much more than that: he wanted to exceed his programming. He wanted to exceed his own machine-ness and become human. He wanted to defy the limits placed upon him by his "birth."
No other mecha in the movie demonstrated this. That means that David was fundamentally different from "regular" machines, but not fundamentally different from humans. I'm going to go with human.
THIS IS WHAT IT'S LIKE TO LIVE IN FEAR
I like Blade Runner. It's probably one of my favorite movies. One of the most visually influential movies ever made, I'd say. A masterpiece. It completely pushed the envelope and redefined the futuristic cityscape of our collective unconscious. It changed science-fiction films forever. Suddenly the future was dark and gritty. Rain pouring down claustrophobic alleyways, crumbling walls plastered with flickering advertisement screens. "Enjoy Coca-cola!" Not a gleaming protocol droid or a domed astromech droid in sight. No funny-looking aliens. No shimmering spires, no perpetual sunshine, no british accents. Blade Runner is a future that isn't sleek or shiny. It's a future that's rusted, worn, tired, collapsing under its own weight.
It's easy to overlook just how tremendously innovative this idea was and still is. Metropolis gave us the Future-that-is-Clean. Star Wars gave us the Future-that-has-been-Used. Blade Runner gave us the Future-that-Sucks. But the Future-that-Sucks is not the same future so commonly presented nowadays; it's not a post-apocalyptic world where people have to cope with nuclear radiation and scavenge from the ruins of New York to survive. It's not that future. Instead it's a sprawling metropolis of movement through shadows, where the city sounds compete against the pouring rain that cascades down from the starless heavens. This is the future where it's always dark, but at the same time, always bright. Neon lights shine where the sun doesn't.
This vision of the future has been emulated ever since it appeared, perhaps even more than the futures that it was originally deconstructing. I know at least Blade Runner corresponds with MY vision of the future; consumerism has made people like robots...China's taken over the planet through the world economy...Essentially, I've been visualizing the Blade Runner future my entire life, but I didn't realize it until I saw the movie. I'm not the only one, either. I think my generation has been practically raised on this type of imagery, so much that it is something we no longer even think about. The Future-that-Sucks is second nature to us now, as natural as blinking.
Pretty ironic. Blade Runner wasn't all that successful at the box office or with the critics, and yet...people have been copying it for decades.
It's easy to overlook just how tremendously innovative this idea was and still is. Metropolis gave us the Future-that-is-Clean. Star Wars gave us the Future-that-has-been-Used. Blade Runner gave us the Future-that-Sucks. But the Future-that-Sucks is not the same future so commonly presented nowadays; it's not a post-apocalyptic world where people have to cope with nuclear radiation and scavenge from the ruins of New York to survive. It's not that future. Instead it's a sprawling metropolis of movement through shadows, where the city sounds compete against the pouring rain that cascades down from the starless heavens. This is the future where it's always dark, but at the same time, always bright. Neon lights shine where the sun doesn't.
This vision of the future has been emulated ever since it appeared, perhaps even more than the futures that it was originally deconstructing. I know at least Blade Runner corresponds with MY vision of the future; consumerism has made people like robots...China's taken over the planet through the world economy...Essentially, I've been visualizing the Blade Runner future my entire life, but I didn't realize it until I saw the movie. I'm not the only one, either. I think my generation has been practically raised on this type of imagery, so much that it is something we no longer even think about. The Future-that-Sucks is second nature to us now, as natural as blinking.
Pretty ironic. Blade Runner wasn't all that successful at the box office or with the critics, and yet...people have been copying it for decades.
Friday, January 9, 2009
SOYLENT GREEN IS PEOPLE
OH MY GOD! SOYLENT GREEN IS PEOPLE!
Soylent Green is the kind of movie the UN probably likes a whole lot. Other dystopian sci-fi movies tend to ocus on ideological decay and oppression; Soylent Green is about a realistic and therefore chilling possible future. It's not privacy or ideals that are oppressed and regulated in Soylent Green, it's food. The one thing humans absolutely need. As the human population grows, the resources dwindle. Soylent Green is what happens when there's nothing left, but billions of people to feed. It's an extension of modern issues: overpopulation, pollution, abuse of resources, oppression of the impoverished...etc. The issue is the fundamental human right: the right to life. It's twenty minutes in the future, the end of the road which we've already halfway run. That makes it extremely frightening, and perhaps more effective than other pessimistic sci-fi movies of its type.
Soylent Green is the kind of movie the UN probably likes a whole lot. Other dystopian sci-fi movies tend to ocus on ideological decay and oppression; Soylent Green is about a realistic and therefore chilling possible future. It's not privacy or ideals that are oppressed and regulated in Soylent Green, it's food. The one thing humans absolutely need. As the human population grows, the resources dwindle. Soylent Green is what happens when there's nothing left, but billions of people to feed. It's an extension of modern issues: overpopulation, pollution, abuse of resources, oppression of the impoverished...etc. The issue is the fundamental human right: the right to life. It's twenty minutes in the future, the end of the road which we've already halfway run. That makes it extremely frightening, and perhaps more effective than other pessimistic sci-fi movies of its type.
PLANET OF THE MONKEYS
At first glance the obvious and immediate conclusion that will be drawn upon watching Planet of the Apes is that it is an environmentalist piece, decrying humanity's mistreatment of nature and the animals within it. By the end of the movie, however, it becomes apparent that the driving force behind the movie's theme and plot is the separation of science and religion. In our world, science and religion are separate forces, worlds apart, that only grow farther and farther apart from each other as time goes on. On the Planet of the Apes, however, science and spirituality are one ministry; the religion based on factual events, twisted to support evolutionarily beneficial practices. Namely, the oppression of humans (who, it is revealed at the end of the movie, have driven themselves to near extinction).
The message of Planet of the Apes seems to be that humans died because their religion did not properly reign in their destructive tendencies. They allowed science to rule unchecked and unchallenged, and paid the terrible price. The apes, on the other hand, have kept science on a tight leash. And while their progress and technology may be stagnant and at a standstill, they at least are surviving. Their cycle is self-perpetuating. So the message seems to be that both science and religion are necessary halves of one whole; that one without the other is destructive.
The message of Planet of the Apes seems to be that humans died because their religion did not properly reign in their destructive tendencies. They allowed science to rule unchecked and unchallenged, and paid the terrible price. The apes, on the other hand, have kept science on a tight leash. And while their progress and technology may be stagnant and at a standstill, they at least are surviving. Their cycle is self-perpetuating. So the message seems to be that both science and religion are necessary halves of one whole; that one without the other is destructive.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
2001: THE SPACE ODYSSEY
2001: A Space Odyssey is one of the greatest science fiction films ever made. Perhaps its most striking aspect is the depth of the entire work. To the untrained eye 2001 might seem to be standard hard sci-fi fare; however, beneath the scientific surface lies layers and layers of complexity unmatched throughout the movie industry. It is an epic tale of the evolution of Man; it starts in a pristine world with the beginning of Man's ingenuity and terminates among the dazzling stars.
The prominent theme of 2001 is evolution; specifically, Man's path to Godhood. This theme is expressed through numerous outlets. First, there are the prehistoric humans that haunt the movie's prologue, given intellect and reason by the mysterious, unfathomable monolith. Fast forward a few millennia and Man has developed space travel and artificial intelligence systems. The HAL-9000 unit is himself a parallel of Man's creation; from HAL's perspective, Man is God. And from Man's perspective, the incomprehensible monolith-constructing aliens are Godlike. It's a cycle of creation...a stark contrast to the cycles of destruction that plague other sci-fi universes. 2001 is as utopian and optimistic as they come.
The prominent theme of 2001 is evolution; specifically, Man's path to Godhood. This theme is expressed through numerous outlets. First, there are the prehistoric humans that haunt the movie's prologue, given intellect and reason by the mysterious, unfathomable monolith. Fast forward a few millennia and Man has developed space travel and artificial intelligence systems. The HAL-9000 unit is himself a parallel of Man's creation; from HAL's perspective, Man is God. And from Man's perspective, the incomprehensible monolith-constructing aliens are Godlike. It's a cycle of creation...a stark contrast to the cycles of destruction that plague other sci-fi universes. 2001 is as utopian and optimistic as they come.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
THE DAY THE EARTH DIDN'T MOVE ANYMORE
The Day the Earth Stood Still!
How does this film address one or more of the guiding questions? Does it do so in thought-provoking and interesting ways? Why or why not?
Specifically I'll answer Guiding Question # 3: What makes us human? What is the difference between man and machine?
The Day the Earth Stood Still had an interesting and somewhat unconventional answer to this question. Our "humanity" is determined by our flaws, our inherent aggression, our greed and sins. Machines are different in the respect that they have none of these flaws; they feel no aggression, they have no greed, they commit no sins. But most commonly machines are either painted as something to be feared or something to be ruled. They are either complacent servants or active destroyers. In The Day the Earth Stood Still robots are neither...instead they are judges. On the super-advanced world from which Klaatu hails, robots are the sole arbiters of right and wrong. Judge, jury, and executioner. The people of this world willingly made robots into the sole caretakers of moral justice. From a certain perspective this seems totalitarian; democracy dies with thunderous applause, and all that. That's not how I see it.
I see a parallel with religion. Humans make God into the caretaker of morality; He decided with the ten commandments whether our actions are right or wrong, He decides our punishment, and yet at the same time He is a manmade creation. The robots of Klaatu's world fill the role of God in society...they keep the peace, uphold morality, determine right and wrong, and do so completely flawlessly. They possess no human flaws and are thus Godlike themselves.
The obvious message from this is that "humanity" is the root of injustice, and only something inhuman can uphold true justice. The scope of human knowledge and reason is limited and prone to failure and weakness. Therefore, only something inhuman, be it a supernatural being or a mechanical one, can truly judge right from wrong.
Or something.
How does this film address one or more of the guiding questions? Does it do so in thought-provoking and interesting ways? Why or why not?
Specifically I'll answer Guiding Question # 3: What makes us human? What is the difference between man and machine?
The Day the Earth Stood Still had an interesting and somewhat unconventional answer to this question. Our "humanity" is determined by our flaws, our inherent aggression, our greed and sins. Machines are different in the respect that they have none of these flaws; they feel no aggression, they have no greed, they commit no sins. But most commonly machines are either painted as something to be feared or something to be ruled. They are either complacent servants or active destroyers. In The Day the Earth Stood Still robots are neither...instead they are judges. On the super-advanced world from which Klaatu hails, robots are the sole arbiters of right and wrong. Judge, jury, and executioner. The people of this world willingly made robots into the sole caretakers of moral justice. From a certain perspective this seems totalitarian; democracy dies with thunderous applause, and all that. That's not how I see it.
I see a parallel with religion. Humans make God into the caretaker of morality; He decided with the ten commandments whether our actions are right or wrong, He decides our punishment, and yet at the same time He is a manmade creation. The robots of Klaatu's world fill the role of God in society...they keep the peace, uphold morality, determine right and wrong, and do so completely flawlessly. They possess no human flaws and are thus Godlike themselves.
The obvious message from this is that "humanity" is the root of injustice, and only something inhuman can uphold true justice. The scope of human knowledge and reason is limited and prone to failure and weakness. Therefore, only something inhuman, be it a supernatural being or a mechanical one, can truly judge right from wrong.
Or something.
Monday, January 5, 2009
FRANKENSTEIN versus THE FUTURE
PROMPT = 3) Does this film correspond to your personal vision of the present and/or the future? Why or why not?
Frankenstein is a clearly dystopian piece that reflects the consequences of Man's greatest ambition: the desire to defy God and, in so doing, surpass him. Doctor Frankenstein rebels against the fundamental barrier that nature imposes...death. He seeks to defy mortality, to reanimate dead tissue, to create life from nothingness.
The essential message of Frankenstein is that such pursuits will end in disaster. Man's attempts to become God are doomed to failure and cataclysm. This corresponds to my personal vision of the future. As time marches on, Man becomes tempted to test the limits of his power. It is my view that these temptations are the path to ruin; by attempting to rival God's power, Man is on the road to self-destruction. The future will either be one of moderation or one of disrepair. There is no middle ground. Man will drive himself to oblivion for his insatiable appetite for power.
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