This modest little film packs a pretty good punch for anyone willing to take it for what it is. The story was well paced and the ending was unexpected (by me and I think by most posters). The performances were all at least adequate; Bobby Edner's was better than that. Unfortunately the same cannot be said of most of the reviews posted here. Half the reviewers couldn't spell Kinski's name even while they drooled over her looks. Many complained about the cheesy special effects (or rather 'effect' since there was only one), apparently unaware that the cheesiness was deliberate. Some reviewers seem not to have understood the denouement though it was clearly spelled out. Others seem to have watched the entire film expecting it to be a remake of its namesake and came away shaking their heads at the fact that it wasn't. I give the film a 7 (would be 7+ if there were such a rating) but this review thread as a whole rates a 3 (and that only because of a few posters who actually understood the filmmakers' intentions).
Reviews
4 Reviews
A.I. Artificial Intelligence
(2001)
cavils and questions ( *SPOILERS *)
25 May 2003
Warning: Spoilers
I have seen this film about a dozen times and will probably see it a dozen times more. I consider it a flawed masterpiece but I understand why many people detest it. It is surely the most sentimental film that has ever been made about a robot. (Though it is the product of a posthumous collaboration between Spielberg and Kubrick it often seems to embody the spirit of that unashamed sentimentalist Ray Bradbury.) There is so much to appreciate -- beginning with one of the most amazing performances by a young actor in the history of film -- that the plot and dialogue faults seem like screeches of chalk on blackboard. There are mysteries here too (mysterious at least to me) which I would dearly like to see resolved.
Be warned: everything hereafter is a spoiler.
Faults: we see David undergo an open-thorax operation with perfect equanimity: "It doesn't hurt", he assures his `mother'. But a couple of scenes later when a youngster pricks him slightly with a knife (assuring him he means no harm) David freaks out and clutches his `brother' in terror. Why? Apparently only to move the plot in the desired direction. Surely this could have been engineered in a more credible fashion.
The bit of doggerel that leads David back to the doctor is not only execrable poetry, it doesn't make sense: "Come away, oh human child..." The whole point is that he is _not_ a human child, at least not yet.
Why is Dr. Hobby's lab located in the sunken city rather than in the more convenient company headquarters in New Jersey? Why does Hobby leave David alone after having shattered his illusions? Again, apparently just to make the plot move in the desired direction. This seems to me to be clumsy, even lazy scripting.
The police follow the stolen amphibicopter, pluck Gigolo Joe into the sky -- and just ignore the multi-million-dollar piece of hardware that then carries David on his short trip to Coney Island where he sits for 2000 years. Don't these vehicles have location devices? What ever happened to sonar? Both the government and the corporation would possess ample resources and motivation to search and recover the errant machines. The film provides no explanation as to why they didn't.
Just before the final scene David and we are subjected to a long-winded and implausible explication of the quirks of the space-time continuum that will limit the duration of his reunion. This slows down the action at the worst possible time. The Blue Fairy could simply have told him that the event could only last a day, period. It wasn't necessary to give him or us a course in fantasy physics.
In addition to these glaring faults (and perhaps others I have missed) there are some puzzles that I would very much like to see cleared up. If Mr. Spielberg happens to read this I would appreciate his doing so. If not, I would be interested in others' considered opinions on the following:
when David is staggering in growing despair between the panels of Davids and Darlenes, one of the panels suddenly moves. Is another David coming to life behind it? If so why do we not see him? If not then what is happening?
When David later awakes in the familiar surroundings of his home the scene is quite deliberately made unreal. The colors are garish, the scene is blurry. The whole effect is exactly that of an old piece of film that has lain for many years until the colors have begun to go bad. But as soon as he moves into the room with the Blue Fairy, the film comes into focus and the colors become more natural. What is Spielberg trying to tell us? Is the whole event happening in David's head? If so why are the `aliens' (or millennial robots) depicted observing the event from a balcony?
The final scene of course recalls the ending of `2001' but is if anything more obscure than its famous predecessor. (At least part of it seems to be a mental rather than a real event: that big moon scurries offstage in most unrealistic fashion.) Does David really sleep? Really dream? Does he too die or is his sleep the beginning of something truly new? (Is his name a mere coincidence? He could have been Tommy or Dickie or even little Harry.) Could it be that he is forging in the smithy of his digital soul the uncreated conscience of a new robotic race? In short, what is going on here?
If anyone here knows the answers, please set them out for those such as I who are too literal-minded to grasp it on our own. And could you email me a copy to ensure I don't miss it?
Be warned: everything hereafter is a spoiler.
Faults: we see David undergo an open-thorax operation with perfect equanimity: "It doesn't hurt", he assures his `mother'. But a couple of scenes later when a youngster pricks him slightly with a knife (assuring him he means no harm) David freaks out and clutches his `brother' in terror. Why? Apparently only to move the plot in the desired direction. Surely this could have been engineered in a more credible fashion.
The bit of doggerel that leads David back to the doctor is not only execrable poetry, it doesn't make sense: "Come away, oh human child..." The whole point is that he is _not_ a human child, at least not yet.
Why is Dr. Hobby's lab located in the sunken city rather than in the more convenient company headquarters in New Jersey? Why does Hobby leave David alone after having shattered his illusions? Again, apparently just to make the plot move in the desired direction. This seems to me to be clumsy, even lazy scripting.
The police follow the stolen amphibicopter, pluck Gigolo Joe into the sky -- and just ignore the multi-million-dollar piece of hardware that then carries David on his short trip to Coney Island where he sits for 2000 years. Don't these vehicles have location devices? What ever happened to sonar? Both the government and the corporation would possess ample resources and motivation to search and recover the errant machines. The film provides no explanation as to why they didn't.
Just before the final scene David and we are subjected to a long-winded and implausible explication of the quirks of the space-time continuum that will limit the duration of his reunion. This slows down the action at the worst possible time. The Blue Fairy could simply have told him that the event could only last a day, period. It wasn't necessary to give him or us a course in fantasy physics.
In addition to these glaring faults (and perhaps others I have missed) there are some puzzles that I would very much like to see cleared up. If Mr. Spielberg happens to read this I would appreciate his doing so. If not, I would be interested in others' considered opinions on the following:
when David is staggering in growing despair between the panels of Davids and Darlenes, one of the panels suddenly moves. Is another David coming to life behind it? If so why do we not see him? If not then what is happening?
When David later awakes in the familiar surroundings of his home the scene is quite deliberately made unreal. The colors are garish, the scene is blurry. The whole effect is exactly that of an old piece of film that has lain for many years until the colors have begun to go bad. But as soon as he moves into the room with the Blue Fairy, the film comes into focus and the colors become more natural. What is Spielberg trying to tell us? Is the whole event happening in David's head? If so why are the `aliens' (or millennial robots) depicted observing the event from a balcony?
The final scene of course recalls the ending of `2001' but is if anything more obscure than its famous predecessor. (At least part of it seems to be a mental rather than a real event: that big moon scurries offstage in most unrealistic fashion.) Does David really sleep? Really dream? Does he too die or is his sleep the beginning of something truly new? (Is his name a mere coincidence? He could have been Tommy or Dickie or even little Harry.) Could it be that he is forging in the smithy of his digital soul the uncreated conscience of a new robotic race? In short, what is going on here?
If anyone here knows the answers, please set them out for those such as I who are too literal-minded to grasp it on our own. And could you email me a copy to ensure I don't miss it?
Pure
(I) (2002)
give credit to whom it is due
18 May 2003
Molly Parker is indeed convincing as the addict mother but the person who brings this film off is the boy who plays her son -- so it behooves us to get his name right. Harry Eden makes a brilliant debut in this difficult role. He is onscreen in almost every scene, with far more screen time than either Parker or David Wenham who plays the mother's supplier. His daily trials are grim but his ultimate resolution of them is cathartic.
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