What I've noticed recently is the tendency to describe movies as "forgettable" and its opposite, which forces a certain stigma and black and white-ness to the overall quality of a film. This was in evidence a few days ago when my friend made a reference to a movie, which flew over my head with wide-eyed wonder. He started at me blankly, and told me we had just watched such-and-such movie last weekend, which sparked my memory but also provoked a nervous laughter. Either the movie was quite literally forgettable or my mind is getting worse than it should be at thirty one years of age. On the other end of the spectrum, however, exists movies that are impossible to forget, as Artificial Intelligence stands among them.
Granted, the film is a science fiction piece directed by Spielberg, which could make it memorable alone, but it's the circumstances surrounding the film that make it stand out for me. On July 4, 2001 I had laser eye surgery (LASIK) to correct my eyes and remove my need for glasses. On the evening of July 3, I went to the theatre to see AI with my dad. I was living in North Bay at the time, and with the procedure being relatively new, there were no (reputable) places up north to do so, so my optometrist sent me down south to Toronto. My dad and I drove down, went to the centre for a pre-op checkup and to sign my life away in forms. We went back to the hotel, checked in then went to The Keg for dinner, as it was a special kind of outing. Afterward, we decided to hit up the movies and see AI, which was just opening; the film was incredibly busy and we ended up sitting in some of the very front rows, which proved to be uncomfortable at times simply because the seat is located so close to the screen.
I remember very clearly, thinking at the time: this could be the last movie I see. Literally. If they botch the procedure and I lose my vision, AI will be the last thing I remember seeing. Was the film good? I don't even recall if it was or not, as all my thoughts were based in anxiety over the impending operation. While my vision was not optimal for about a week, it improved and I was busy watching movies in no time. It struck me as odd then, over the years, that I haven't bothered to go back to see the movie. I can't quite place my finger on why I wouldn't want to.
Well, that's not entirely true: I remember the film being a bit long, drawn out and perhaps just straight up boring. And my memory may be failing right now, but I feel as though there was general dissatisfaction when the movie came out; it failed at the box office (estimated $90 million budget with just $78 million in domestic take) and has only been mentioned in passing in conversations with friends since. As it is though, I feel as though I can look back at these movies with a different perspective, that being one with more maturity, experience and insight. So, the other week I put it on, and was incredibly impressed. It felt like watching the movie for the very first time with a cheat sheet, which allowed me to draw comparisons and thoughts that went over my head the first time around.
First, was the obvious (to me now) Kubrick influence; it's no secret that he began the project but passed on before he could do this movie. Spielberg picked it up and ran the rest of the way, and provided many nods to the famous director. And since 2001 (the year, not the movie) I have seen more Kubrick and Spielberg films: AI is this incredibly special mesh that combines elements from both their styles, to create a film experience like nothing before.
But, I think I have seen this before. A couple of years ago I watched Pinocchio with my niece; a film I haven't seen since I was her age. The content shocked me: characters, settings, the theme and content that would be hard pressed to get into a children's movie these days. The beauty of AI retelling the story of Pinocchio is not lost on the duo either: in fact it's right there in the movie itself. David, a boy robot is going on a journey to become human, just as Pinocchio did half a century before. In fact, David is inspired by the actual story of Pinocchio: he seeks out the blue fairy who he believes can turn him into a real boy, which in turn should make his mother love him even more.
The core structure of their journey is nearly identical, including the trip into sin city and a final act into a water world. I also found myself looking at the structure of the film compared to other Kubrick films, including Full Metal Jacket. What is off-putting about that film could be the instant change of gear from boot camp life to war; a quick cut and the viewer is jolted into a different film. The same natural progression yet jolting experience happens here as well, when David is abandoned by his mother and finds himself in immediate turmoil by robot torturers. The film does not revisit the human family as it focuses on the journey ahead: it feels like a different movie, charging ahead with different pacing, characters and action.
For all the Kubrick elements in the movie, you can see the Spielberg touches everywhere. The combination of the two is fantastic. The characters are given depth and emotion in true Spielberg fashion; he keeps Kubrick's sexual undertones dialed back (the robot undressing at the beginning of the movie, and of course Rouge City - a literal city of pleasure and sin). The special effects are extraordinary, even by today's standards. My friend walked in on a scene with Teddy and remarked about how good it looks: was it CGI? Animatronic? Both? The character was done with such great effect that you wonder why more modern renditions of teddy bears come to life aren't better. The futuristic world that Kubrick and Spielberg have woven here is majestic, interesting and realistic. I've always noted how important it is for sci-fi movies to get this right, and AI sets the bar here.
The final theme I wanted to touch on was something that blew right past me in that theatre twelve years ago, and it's a theme that is ever present in science fiction: becoming human. Where in many stories, humans want to become robots for the obvious technical advantages, and robots always want to become human. David's creator believes it's love that will make this happen, and sets out to make a child robot that is capable of that feeling. It's a dream of many robots in popular culture to achieve the same thing: becoming as human as possible. We watched for seven seasons as Star Trek's Data pondered humanity, what it means to be human and his hunt for emotion. David is willing to stop at nothing to achieve this. And it never ends, as incredibly advanced robots from the future continue to learn about their creators, hoping to get as close as possible to becoming human as they can.
If this was the last movie I could see more than a decade ago, I would have been a bit disappointed. As it stands now though, I can see how this would be very fitting. It's a mature fairy tale that deserves your full attention. and I think will become a classic for years to come.