EX MACHINA Movie

 Real science fiction is about ideas, which means that real science fiction is rarely seen on movie screens, a commercially minded canvas that's more at ease with sensation and spectacle. What you more often get from movies is something that could be called "science fiction-flavored product"—a work that has a few of the superficial trappings of the genre, such as futuristic production design and somewhat satirical or sociological observations about humanity, but that eventually abandons its pretense for fear of alienating or boring the audience and gives way to more conventional action or horror trappings, forgetting about whatever made it seem unusual to begin with.

ஸ்மித்'க்கு மிக பெரிய கம்ப்யூட்டர் நிறுவனத்தில் ஒரு ஸ்பெசல் வேலை கிடைக்கிறது, அந்த நிறுவனத்தின் சி.இ.ஓ நேதனிடம் நேரடியாக வேலை செய்ய கிடைக்கும் மிக பெரிய ஆஃப்பர். 

கிட்டதட்ட 2 மணி நேரத்துக்கும் மேலாக மனித நடமாட்டமே இல்லாத பகுதியில் பறந்து சென்று யாரும் நெருங்க கூட முடியாத தனிமை வீட்டில் நேதனை சந்திக்கிறார். 

மிக இளம் வயது தொழிலதிபர், ஒரே ஒரு வேலைகார பெண்ணுடன் மிக பெரிய வீட்டில் தனிமையில் வாழ்கிறார், அனைத்தும் கம்ப்யூட்டர் மயம். பேச்சு துணைக்கு கூட ஆள் இல்லாத இடத்தில் தான் கண்டுபிடித்த எந்திரத்தை பரிசோதனை செய்யவே ஸ்மித்தை அழைத்ததாக சொல்கிறார்.

அந்த இயந்திரம் ஒரு ரோபோ. மனித உருவில் ஒரு பெண் போல தத்ரூபமாக செய்யபட்டிருக்கும் ரோபோ (ஏவா) தானே சிந்திக்கும் வகையில் கண்டுபிடித்திருக்கிறார். அதன் சிந்திக்கும் ஆற்றல் எப்படிபட்டது, எது வரையில் போகும் என்பதை அறிந்து சொல்வதே ஸ்மித்தின் வேலை.

தனியறையில் யாரும் நெருங்க முடியாத வண்ணம் அடைக்கபட்டிருக்கும் ஏவாவுடன் தினமும் கொஞ்ச நேரம் பேசுகிறார் ஸ்மித். அவர்களின் நடவடிக்கைகள் அனைத்தும் நேதனால் கண்கானிக்கபடுகிறது. ஒரு நாள் அப்படி பேசும்போது திடீரென்று கரன்ட் கட் ஆகிறது. அந்த சமயத்தில் மட்டும் ஏவா சில உண்மைகளை ஸ்மித்திடம் பகிர்ந்து கொள்கிறது. அதில் ஒன்று நேதன் பொய் சொல்கிறான் அவன நம்பாதே என்பது.. !

அடுத்தடுத்து கரன்ட் கட் தொடர்கிறது, தொடர்ச்சியான உரையாடல்களுக்கு நடுவில் ஏவா தான் கரன்ட்டை கட் செய்கிறது என்பதையும் தன்னிடம் தனிமையில் பேசவே அப்படி செய்கிறது என்பதும், அந்த சமயத்தில் மட்டும் நேதனின் கட்டுபாட்டில் அந்த இடம் இல்லை என்பதை ஸ்மித் தெரிந்து கொள்கிறான்.

இதற்கு நடுவில் ஏவாவின் மேல் காதல்??!! கொள்கிறான் ஸ்மித். ஏவாவை அங்கிருநது காப்பாற்றி வெளியே கொண்டு செல்ல முயற்சிக்கிறான் அதற்காக முந்தின இரவு நேதனை அதிகம் குடிக்க வைக்க முயற்சிக்கிறான்.

புன்னகையுடன் அவனிடம் பேசும் நேதன்... ஸ்மித்தின் திட்டம் அனைத்தும் தனக்கு தெரியும் என்று கூறுகிறான். தான் வைத்த பரீட்சையில் ஏவா தேறிவிட்டதாகவும், ஒரு ரோபோ உன்னை காதல் வலையில் வீழ்த்தி காரியம் சாதித்து கொள்வது அதன் அறிவு மனிதனை போல வேலை செய்வதற்கு சாட்சி என்றும் கூறுகிறான்.

அதிர்ச்சியில் உரையும் ஸ்மித் தான் ஏவாவால் சுலபமாக ஏமாற்றபட்டதை உணர்கிறான். தோல்வியை ஒப்புகொண்ட ஸ்மித், நேதனிடம் தான் முதல் நாள் இரவே அனைத்து பாதுகாப்பு சாதனங்களையும் செயல் இழக்க செய்து விட்டதாக கூறுகிறான்... இப்போது ஏவா அறையை விட்டு வெளியே வருகிறாள்.... அவ்வளவு அறிவையும் கொண்டு என்ன செய்கிறாள் என்பதை செம த்ரில்லராக சொல்லபட்டிருக்கிறது...

"Ex Machina," the directorial debut by novelist and screenwriter Alex Garland ("28 Days Later," "Sunshine"), is a rare and welcome exception to that norm. It starts out as an ominous thriller about a young programmer (Domhnall Gleeson) orbiting a charismatic Dr. Frankenstein-type (Oscar Isaac) and slowly learning that the scientist's zeal to create artificial intelligence has a troubling, even sickening personal agenda. But even as the revelations pile up and the screws tighten and you start to sense that terror and violence are inevitable, the movie never loses grip on what it's about; this is a rare commercial film in which every scene, sequence, composition and line deepens the screenplay's themes—which means that when the bloody ending arrives, it seems less predictable than inevitable and right, as in myths, legends and Bible stories. 

The scientist, Isaac's Nathan, has brought the programmer Caleb (Gleason) to his remote home/laboratory in the forested mountains and assigned Caleb to interact with a prototype of a "female" robot, Ava (Alicia Vikander), to determine if she truly has self-awareness or it's just an incredible simulation. The story is emotionally and geographically intimate, at times suffocating, unfolding in and around Nathan's stronghold. This modernist bunker with swingin' bachelor trappings is sealed off from the outside world. Many of its rooms are off-limits to Caleb's restricted key card. The story is circumscribed with the same kind of precision. Caleb's conversations with Ava are presented as discrete narrative sections, titled like chapters in a book (though the claustrophobic setting will inevitably remind viewers of another classic of shut-in psychodrama, Stanley Kubrick's film of "The Shining"). These sections are interspersed with scenes between Caleb, Nathan, and Nathan's girlfriend (maybe concubine) Kyoko (Sonoya Mizono), a nearly mute, fragile-seeming woman who hovers near the two men in a ghostly fashion. 

Because the film is full of surprises, most of them character-driven and logical in retrospect, I'll try to describe "Ex Machina" in general terms. Nathan is an almost satirically specific type: a brilliant man who created a revolutionary new programming code at 13 and went on to found a Google-like corporation, then funneled profits into his secret scheme to create a physically and psychologically credible synthetic person, specifically a woman. This is a classic nerd fantasy, and there is a sense in which "Ex Machina" might be described as "Stanley Kubrick's Weird Science."  But despite having made a film in which two of the four main characters are women in subservient roles, and making it clear that Nathan's realism test will include a sexual component, the movie never seems to be exploiting the characters or their situations. The movie maintains a scientific detachment even as it brings us inside the minds and hearts of its people, starting with Caleb (an audience surrogate with real personality), then embracing Ava, then Nathan (who's as screwed-up as he is intimidating), then finally Kyoko, who is not the cipher she initially seems to be. 

"Ex Machina" is a beautiful extension of Garland's past concerns as a screenwriter. Starting with Danny Boyle's "The Beach," based on his novel, and continuing through two more collaborations with Boyle, "28 Days Later" and "Sunshine" and the remake of "Judge Dredd," Garland has demonstrated great interest in the organization of society, the tension between the need for rules and the abuse of authority, and the way that gender roles handed down over thousands of years can poison otherwise pure relationships. The final section of "28 Days Later" is set in a makeshift army base where soldiers have taken up arms against hordes of infected citizens. No sooner have they welcomed the heroes into their fold than they reveal themselves as domineering monsters who want to strip the tomboyish women in the group of their autonomy and groom them as concubines and breeders in frilly dresses, in a skewed version of "traditional" society. The soldiers, not the infected, were the true zombies in that zombie film: the movie was a critique of masculinity, especially the toxic kind.

Likewise, "Ex Machina" is very much about men and women, and how their identities are constructed by male dominated society as much as by biology. Nathan actively rebels against the nerd stereotype, carrying on like a frat house alpha dog, working a heavy bag, drinking to excess, disco dancing with his girl in a robotically choreographed routine, addressing the soft-spoken, sensitive Caleb as "dude" and "bro", and reacting with barely disguised contempt when Caleb expresses empathy for Ava. It's bad enough that Nathan wants to play God at all, worse still that he longs to re-create femininity through circuitry and artificial flesh. His vision of women seems shaped by lad magazines, video games aimed at eternal teenagers, and the most juvenile "adult" science fiction and fantasy. 

As Ava becomes increasingly central to the story, the movie acquires an undertone of film noir, with Nathan as the abusive husband or father often found in such movies, Caleb as the clueless drifter smitten with her, and Ava as the damsel who is definitely in distress but not as helpless as she first appears (though we are kept guessing as to how capable she is, and whether she has the potential to be a femme fatale). The film's most intense moments are the quiet conversations that occur during power blackouts at the facility, when Ava confesses her terror to Caleb and asks his help against Nathan. We don't know quite how to take her pleas. Despite her limited emotional bandwidth, she seems truly distressed, and yet we are always aware that she is Nathan's creation. Her scenario might be another level in the simulation, or another projection of Nathan's twisted machismo. There is also canny commentary, conveyed entirely through images, which suggests that "traditional" femininity is as artificial and blatantly constructed as any android siren, which makes creatures like Ava seem like horribly logical extensions of a mentality that has always existed. (This movie and "Under the Skin" would make an excellent double feature, though not one that should be watched by anybody prone to depression.)

Throughout, Garland builds tension slowly and carefully without ever letting the pace slacken. And he proves to have a precise but bold eye for composition, emphasizing humans and robots as lovely but troubling figures in a cold, sharp mural of technology. The special effects are some of the best ever done in this genre, so convincing that you soon cease marveling at the way Ava's metallic "bones" can be seen through the transparent flesh of her forearms, or the way that her "face" is a fixed to a silver skull.

Garland's screenplay is equally impressive, weaving references to mythology, history, physics, and visual art into casual conversations, in ways that demonstrate that Garland understands what he's talking about while simultaneously going to the trouble to explain more abstract concepts in plain language, to entice rather than alienate casual filmgoers. (Nathan and Caleb's discussion of Jackson Pollock's "automatic painting" is a highlight.) The performances are outstanding. Isaac's in particular has an electrifying star quality, cruelly sneering yet somehow delightful, insinuating and intellectually credible. The ending, when it arrives, is primordially satisfying, spotlighting images whose caveman savagery is emotionally overwhelming yet earned by the story. This is a classic film.