A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001) 145m
In much the same way that Spielberg included the adjunct 'EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL' to his film E.T., the self-explanatory 'ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE' has been tagged on to what was previously known simply as A.I. One can't imagine the late Stanley Kubrick, who nursed the project for many years, making such concessions, suggestive as they are of a dumbing-down of the original concept, but for all intents Spielberg has brought his version of it to the screen with integrity. While he and Kubrick are considered superb technicians and masters of film-making, their art is approached from viewpoints that couldn't seem more opposite. Spielberg is an emotive choreographer; Kubrick a philosophical visionary. Kubrick spent years developing his story for A.I. (so many that he died before getting a final script); Spielberg had finished principal photography barely a year after announcing his intentions to make the film. Whether or not A.I. is a success or failure is almost secondary to the fact that it creates an irresistible intersection point between these two major talents.
The 'Spielbrick' film, then, sees its genesis in a very short Brian Aldiss story, 'Super Toys Last All Summer Long'. In truth this story by itself makes more sense as a Spielberg project than it does a Kubrick one, a fact that Kubrick himself acknowledged when he handed the material over to Spielberg for completion. Significantly, it became the first feature screenplay written by Spielberg for nearly twenty years. A.I. concerns itself with cybernetic technology so advanced that it can formulate concepts about itself beyond the boundaries of its program. Hence David, the 'boy' who is the central character of the film, believes he is capable of love and seeks it in return. He simulates all emotional sensations to the extent that they resonate in his programming just the way they might influence themselves physically in a living human body. What's intriguing about A.I. is that the subject matter itself almost requires the collaboration of these two very different film-makers - one could not have made it without the other. David is both Spielberg and Kubrick, a work of technological craftsmanship searching for a soul, an answer, and a resolution.
And here's the problem: A.I is multilayered, beautiful, unique and haunting, but early on it sets itself up for a resolution that it cannot possibly deliver. David, drawing inspiration from the story of Pinocchio, wants to be a real boy. This film may have fantastic elements, but it is not a fantasy, and no blue fairy is going to be waving a wand at its conclusion, which leaves only two outs: either David's mission will fail utterly or it will arrive at a compromise (which is another way of saying 'cop-out'). It appears that any likely ending is going to leave us wanting, but for a while, it looks like Spielberg has a chance of pulling it off. On my first viewing of A.I. I had no idea of the film's length and thought that the film had reached its conclusion around the two hour mark, in a striking scene that found David confronting the object of his quest personified. It was a moment I found profoundly moving, and the fact that it had drawn such a powerful emotional response from me was enough to prove itself entirely satisfying as the film's ending. But as anyone who has seen the film knows, there is more to come beyond this scene, and A.I. still has a whole separate act to follow.
As it happens, I find the 'actual' finale less satisfying if only for the reason that I'm not sure how I am supposed to react to it emotionally. These narrative leaps of faith are more Kubrick's technique for storytelling than Spielberg's, and the film makes a habit of dramatically altering its tone and setting. The first act is mesmerizing and intimate, and holds us in thrall with its world of possibilities; the second becomes visceral and nightmarish; the third a voyage of isolation, despair and hope. It's an approach that will irritate many viewers, and at odds with the mass audience that Spielberg is accustomed to catering for. If you're drawn into the story, then you won't care too much about its changing backgrounds. The point is that the foreground remains the same throughout. Haley Joel Osment is a wonder as David, pulling off the formidable task of making us believe he is an artificial life form, or 'mecha', from the moment he first appears. His companionship with a pleasure mecha called Gigolo Joe (Jude Law) and a 'supertoy' teddy bear provides cinema with a trio like none other you have seen (some of these images seem destined as instant classics). The rest of A.I. follows suit - its distinctive art direction, continuously provocative questions (it doesn't try to presume answers), and John Williams score (which follows in the footsteps of Phillip Glass) combine to create a film like nothing that Spielberg, or anyone else for that matter, has done before.
But technical aspects aside, the major achievement of A.I. must be that it is able to funnel our emotional investment into a character that is a machine, and moreover, to do it without seeming manipulative. We are never allowed to forget that David is not a real boy, but this does not stop him from gaining our empathy. Even though we should know better, we don't discriminate between a human being with real feelings, or a simulacra that is programmed to believe it has real feelings (in much the same way that a crowd at a robotic demolition derby are instantly convinced that David is real when he shows fear). Why do we accept David so easily? Because years of going to the movies have taught us so; for what is any person we see on screen but a scripted character played by a hired actor? Arguably, the success of any film is not dependent on our abilities to separate ourselves from its actors or acting, but our connection with the emotional content they are working in. Kubrick had already proved this with non-human characters in 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY, during the justifiably famous scene in which the computer HAL is dismantled and 'dies' before our eyes. A.I. relies on that part of us, as human beings, which projects itself on to inanimate objects, and in turn is projected back to us via the cinema screen. Is it possible to identify the moment where our animatism turns to animism? It's one many conundrums offered in the story, and even David himself is unable to tell, as is heartbreakingly proved by his belief that a simple statue has the power to grant him a wish. He may be the most sophisticated creation of his time, yet he is still programmed with the reasoning of a child.
In the end, A.I. is the kind of project that the term 'flawed masterpiece' is reserved for. It reminds me of 'Tintin and Alph-Art', the final book of Herge's Tintin series that was unofficially completed in different capacities by other artists working from his notes and sketches. It's there, and it's not there. It almost feels like something that was never meant to be there, or something that you'd dreamed about but never expected to see in the waking world. Even though Spielberg's heart is beating throughout A.I. you still feel the ghost of Kubrick watching from hidden vantage points. It may be disappointing, or it may be the stuff of genius. But the reasons I'd give for anyone interested in watching A.I. are the same I'd give for reading 'Alph-Art'. The fact is, it was made, and we have the opportunity to see it at last, for better or worse: whether you think you're going to enjoy it or not, how could you bear never to know?
sburridge@hotmail.com
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