A.I. - Artificial Intelligence (DVD)

(Pls. see note following review)

Methinks Stanley Kubrick's name in the title credits is all that has anything remotely to do with Kubrick. Having said that, there is nothing new or interesting or intelligent that Steven Spielberg offers us in “A. I.: Artificial Intelligence”. Yes, I chuckled at, oh, some two minutes' worth of film time (and felt them to be inappropriate, nonetheless), and relished every second the beauteous, if waxy-looking, ...
...Mountain) was onscreen . I also congratulate the creepily lifelike yet robotic Haley Joel Osment (“The Sixth Sense”) for his fine performance as David, the robot Mecha-boy. The problem, however, lies in the screenplay and the story. It's pure Spielberg sugar and schmaltz delivered in disjointed fashion in several agonizingly long, fatal doses.

If this is Spielberg's attempt to play grown-up, well, all it amounts to is a Grimm fairy ... more

(Pls. see note following review)

Methinks Stanley Kubrick's name in the title credits is all that has anything remotely to do with Kubrick. Having said that, there is nothing new or interesting or intelligent that Steven Spielberg offers us in “A. I.: Artificial Intelligence”. Yes, I chuckled at, oh, some two minutes' worth of film time (and felt them to be inappropriate, nonetheless), and relished every second the beauteous, if waxy-looking, Jude Law (“The Talented Mr. Ripley” and most recently, “Cold Mountain) was onscreen . I also congratulate the creepily lifelike yet robotic Haley Joel Osment (“The Sixth Sense”) for his fine performance as David, the robot Mecha-boy. The problem, however, lies in the screenplay and the story. It's pure Spielberg sugar and schmaltz delivered in disjointed fashion in several agonizingly long, fatal doses.

If this is Spielberg's attempt to play grown-up, well, all it amounts to is a Grimm fairy tale altered beyond recognition through the writer/director's fatuous fantasy prism.

First, the plot (which is riddled with holes you can drive a division of Hummers through). In a not-so-distant future, the polar ice caps have dissolved into oceans that have submerged entire coastal cities, resources are said to be scarce and reproduction is severely limited by law. Robotics are so advanced that lifelike androids created for almost every conceivable purpose are not uncommon.

Henry and Monica Swinton (Sam Robards and Frances O'Connor) are a couple whose only son, Martin (Jake Thomas), has been cryogenically preserved until such time a cure for his unnamed disease is found. On the suggestion of a doctor, Henry agrees to take home a unique child-robot as a replacement for their as-of-now missing son. David is brought home, and Monica is predictably upset and annoyed at first, and later, predictably takes to the creepy little android after carrying out the imprinting instructions that will bond David to Monica forever. There's an embarrassingly silly bit with Henry telling Monica with misplaced lightheartedness, "Don't kill me, but..." before presenting her with David, dressed in an all-white baggy coverall suit, a plastic smile frozen on his face. And more warm and fuzzy moments to follow, with the characters bathed in soft sunlight and ickily sweet music cueing you in on which emotions are appropriate where.

As another reviewer on a different site has pointed out in his infinitely superior review, first, there's the big question of why and how Henry and Monica were selected for this experiment, since the possibility of Martin's return still exists, no matter how slim (and, as it turns out here--surprise, surprise--Martin does return to join the living with no explanation of how this unmentioned groundbreaking cure managed this miracle, and wouldn't that be a big story in itself? But I digress.)

Then there's Martin's return, which is just another blatant contrivance to give sweet, loving David a reason to do "bad things" and cause general dismay in the household. Henry's about-face at this point, in which he claims that David should now be returned to the factory to be destroyed, is patently illogical, since it was his idea to take home a robot boy in the first place. How thoroughly did the couple think through this life-changing decision, anyway?

Next, Monica decides that, indeed, it's probably best to let go of David. Does she return him to the manufacturer? No. She thinks it's better to leave David in the middle of the dark forest, so he can be picked up as a "stray" by the collectors, much like the stray replicants in “Blade Runner”. Yes, there are junk robots wandering around who should be destroyed. (Hmm. Speaking of that Ridley Scott film, the city in which we later find Gigolo Joe cavorting is a damn good replica of the Los Angeles in “Blade Runner”, complete with dark skies, wet streets and a collage of bright neon signs).

So David's fate as an abandoned stray is better than destruction at the factory? But if David is returned, then we wouldn't have the subsequent "developments" in the plot, now, would we? Does this feel contrived once again?

Enter the suave Joe, built to be the robot gift to women. Jude Law is hugely amusing in his scenes as Gigolo Joe, the robot Mecha-prostitute, slick and smooth in his talk and robot-dance movements. Alas his role is so underdeveloped, it's a criminal waste of the man's talent. He exists to play big brother to David in the latter's search for the key to becoming a "real live boy." (That last phrase was repeated so many times I wanted someone, anyone, to make him real already to put a stop to the increasingly whining refrain). In the scene with Dr. Know, the unexplained matter of Joe’s exact motivation to help David in his quest kept nagging at me.

Along the way, Joe and David meet with some nasty adventures, such as being chased along with a whole host of other strays through the dark, dank forest by the stray-catchers, a scene which was strangely suspense-free. They narrowly escape becoming victims of destruction-as-entertainment in a "flesh fair" whose climactic moment tells you that David is really a chosen one, and goodness will win (reserved exclusively for the welfare of the non-androids, of course). Here Spielberg can't resist ruining what minuscule traces of menace initially exist with a jokey cameo by the fast-talking cannon fodder fellow. Perhaps the (supposedly) dark mood was too much for his audience and that comic relief was desperately called for?

In fact, there are a few more of these cutesy comic moments throughout “A. I.”, such as the “omigod--no!” scene in which Teddy, David's robot supertoy, succumbs to the law of gravity. Yes, I did laugh a little, but were these little bits germane to the plot? Not in my view.

Unbearability finally maxed out by the last twenty or thirty minutes. I had to resist the temptation to leave the theatre because it would only be fair to see the whole thing if I were to write a review, no? Two young men sitting in front of me made their definitive exit just as the onscreen sappiness increased some thirtyfold, and were spared the part where it went up a hundredfold.

Inconsistencies and non-sequiturs abound, a few of which I've already touched upon. One glaring loose end is the non-reappearance of Dr. Hobby, David's prime creator (William Hurt, perhaps bored to death?) after he tells David to wait in his office while he goes off to collect some people.

Shortly before, there's a separate glowing-white David twin in the same office as the David we've been following, whose purpose in the story puzzled me. What was he there for? Oh, silly me (not "silly man," as Monica utters in silly fashion), David has to show how he has become quasi-human not just in his love, but also in his hate. When Henry, David's foster dad, states that David "was created to love" and therefore, it's not unreasonable to assume that he will also learn to hate...wow, that’s some athletically gifted leap in logic there. How did Spielberg define "love" exactly? One can go into lengthy philosophical discussion about this "hate automatically derives from love" conclusion, to be sure, but Spielberg prefers to state it thus as a foregone conclusion, take it or leave it.

The two actors playing the lead robots, Osment and Law, are outstanding. Although Law might be underused, he does wonders with what little he's handed. Osment is unnervingly good as the robot-child who makes for an eerily annoying presence. His acting offers no cause for complaint. It's what he's given to say and do that irritates.

O'Connor does her distressed mom role adequately, if not different from the usual manner, but again, her lines and role don't ask much of her, either. Robards doesn't even do half as well as she does, Henry being a one-dimensional character of no particular interest.

It’s pretty impressive in a purely pictorial sense, what with all the fancy cinematic doodads and computer tricks for the sets and special effects. Ho-hum. While “Jaws” had only an animatronic shark, everything else contributed to a fine, gripping movie. Hard to believe that excellent classic thriller was made by the very same Spielberg fellow.

I can’t call it well-crafted, however, and the cloying John Williams score intruded on more than one occasion. The plot's creakiness comes to light after you get past the overwhelming amount of imagery that Spielberg drowns you in, and with which he distracts you, not unlike the riot of bright, flashing lights you see in Las Vegas. There's also too much expository dialogue about what has happened off-screen that treats the audience as a clueless six-year-old. Time and again, Spielberg has shown a lack of understanding of nuance and subtlety. “A. I.” is too much dazzling surface without substance. Derivative, too: besides the “Blade Runner” references already mentioned, there's also the E.T.-like creatures at the end who gather 'round the frozen helicopter in a set up that resembles not just “2001: A Space Odyssey”'s monolith-on-the-moon scene but also the alien meeting sequence in Spielberg's own “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”.

So, afterwards, did “A. I.” compel me to ponder the question of robots as human substitutes? Hardly. All it made me ponder was Spielberg's continued lack of depth in his screen treatments. Even the meaning of love, and the complications of having a robot as an object of love remained unexplored. And what about the perpetual child such a robot would have to remain, since he can’t grow up? Oops, that wasn't even a problem in the story, so why bother?

No, all we get is Spielberg's retread of his Pinocchio-rip-off tale using a robot boy instead of a wooden one. And just to be absolutely certain that we got the Pinocchio reference, he lets Monica read the story to the resuscitated Martin one night. Not to mention the annoying repetition of that "real live boy" mantra.

The long and short of it: it's a recycled story badly told, presented with recycled images, without wit, insight or imagination. Jude Law and Haley Joel Osment are the only good elements here. Don’t expect anything Kubrickian in this one. Talk of false advertising. Oh, but come to think of it, “A. I.: Artificial Intelligence” is perhaps a most appropriate title for this visually impressive but misguided, fractured, imitative, and ultimately, banal, piece of work.

And yes, I feel better now, thanks.

[Note: this review underwent minor revisions from the original version written in July 2001] 

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