Review of Ex Machina (2015) by Michael G — 22 Dec 2015

After penning the likes of 28 Days Later, as well as the modern forgotten classics Never Let Me Go and Sunshine, Garland has finally, and most welcomely, turned his attention to directing with Ex Machina. So while on the surface the themes he's presented us with may not be all that unique, the depth of his interpretation and distinctive visual impression of the material more than makes up for it.

Satisfyingly, Garland's distorted version of science out of control is delivered with reverence to everything that came before him, all the while maintaining his trademark distinctive, inscrutable approach to storytelling; a balanced combination of chaos and calm, humanity and harshness, honest and unflinching.

His approach is certainly one that feels completely in sync with the claustrophobic isolation Garland dumps his characters into in Ex Machina. It takes literally minutes for the chess pieces to be dropped in their starting locations on the board, and with an effortless fluidic sweep his characters begin to adjust themselves across the playing field. He effortlessly exposes the most obvious moves first; Garland manipulates his protagonists and exposes their identities, their characteristics, their weaknesses, with almost callous abandon. That's because Ex Machina isn't about setting up stuff to pay off as twists in the narrative down the way. Instead, Garland is clearly taking more pleasure in making his audience realise what they pretty much already have worked out.

His crafty screenplay hides all his visual tricks in plain sight throughout, neatly setting up the foundations of his intentions with a minimalist, effortless flair. That is until his dénouement where Garland makes it perfectly clear whose side he's really on, a side that seems completely at odds with the expectations of what you began with.

His twist, if you need one, is merely the idea that man himself is the cause of his own downfall; taking what we all already know about the pitfalls of technology, and demonstrates it unsympathetically and dripping with bleakly taciturn cynicism.

The glorious result is a sharply resolute, astutely restrained thriller, prickling the synapses with the ethical complexities of the path modern science is taking, as well as the darkly twisted, and often destructive, possibilities the combination of humanity and science can often find themselves at odds with.