Review of Ex Machina (2015) by Brett C — 02 Dec 2015

Ex Machina treads on concepts that are now far from novel, since the turn of the century, the world has grown a deep fascination of the grand turning point of technology, how it has deeply embedded in the human existence, noting its remarkable progression, exploring areas of wonder and possibility that recalled the embarking measures of Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, some constructed with such an abstracted extent, while others injected into the common formula, an escapist dream to those who seek a "refreshing" experience. For many years, fear was the central emotion that captures the human perspective upon this technological rise, the fear of the singularity, but of recent years, we have viewed upon such advancements with paired tenderness and empathy, an achieved sense of harmony and optimism that evoke an affirming outlook of our future, may this be in the emotionally charged nerves of Spike Jonze's Her or Jake Schreier's Robot & Frank. These are the shadings that capture my attention, drawing me in and find myself in the world or its characters, is my heart too much of an optimist? Possibly, but one can't program the attributes that I deem attractive.

Alex Garland, whose filmography demonstrates an impressive collection that embraces on the thriller genre, unpinned by a monotonous aesthetic, dynamically dipping his trademarks upon multiple flavours, ranging from the raging terror of the zombie apocalypse, the endeavouring trials of space travel, or the claustrophobic hallucination of future police force, a figure better known for his contributions from pen on paper, assembling the foundations of impressive productions. In 2015, he marks his debut, a self-promotion that aims to prove his capabilities behind the camera, to expose to the world of his authorship beyond the text, embodying both the architect and the engineer. Ex Machina retains itself of the past attributes of Garland's construction, the sense of need to thrill upon audiences rather than completely rely on the intellect and subtler emotions, refusing to betray on his principles, an individual with great awareness of the efficiency of his own abilities, hence faithful to its core.

Garland understands the strings that are attached to its audiences, pulled upon with wonderful precision, unforeseeable in their tugs and surprising in their intensity, Ex Machina boldly shifts its atmosphere from tenderness to anxiety to terror to humorous in a flash, yet it coheres, it forces us to peer closer and establish a rapport with the characters, while retaining a hint of uncertainty, curiosity constantly present and rising through natural wavelengths, never entering into a zone of emotional outlandishness to earn a response. It intends to pace with a contemplative spirit, with every scene left with a significant gap for our minds to drift on its grand questions, with the pieces we have picked up, we either are enlightened or presently unresolved, knowing that further ahead we inch closer to a greater understanding; but such a tactic never endures itself like a chore, our attention are constantly in focus of something significant, whether it may be the themes it addresses or the journey of the characters themselves, we view them interact with one another and slowly they reveal their symbolic significance, and achieves so without a surge of condescendence.

Ava (Alicia Vikander), the product in question, judged upon her ability to interact with human life, a trial that would determine its validation, a breakthrough in technological construction that would revolutionise the world, we are simply witnessing it at its alpha stages. As we have previously witnessed in subjects of artificial intelligence, Ava is a processing mind that each moment understands the complexities of the living and breathing world, articulated by the world's largest internet search engine, knowledge that surpasses the capabilities of the human mind, yet upon initial presentation, it appears innocent and inviting, slowly turning our perspectives towards her from an it to a she, clouding our protagonist Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson) as he turns from a fascinated intellectualist to an emotional participator, forming a mutualistic relationship that is established by their developed emotions. Garland utilises its characters to perfection, perfectly positioning them as they explore unexposed avenues, to the point of exhaustion, unable to condense everything within the singular experience, but rarely does it tread on grounds of incomprehensible.

Nathan (Oscar Isaac), for much of the film remains in the median of the moral spectrum, a position that constantly sways as new information arouses, we are forced to redefine our feelings, but it is undeniable that he is a figure of deep turmoil, a distressed island that relies on the comforting toxicity of alcohol, shadows that never come to light, but adds curiosity to his character, and certainly critical in the development of the narrative. It is a character that exists perfectly in a tale that could have easily incorporated familiar tropes in its identification, but instead he banters and processes like a true human being, complex in his inner shadings and ambiguous in his stance, yet compelling when prompted for exploration.

Ex Machina is better viewed than lectured, it evokes a sense of awareness in its cinematic format, manipulating its audience without revealing much of itself, as our minds remain firmly locked on the interacting characters and littering themes, rarely does it evoke a scene without purity, it challenges its audience without falling towards emotional convolution, its intelligence and expands and winds, but its heart and conscience remain linear and consistently impactful. A cinematic revolutionary Ex Machina is not, but it marks a significant trajectory for its author, a pathway that would surely thrive in the coming years.