This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
the homeless rockstar of palo alto’s review published on Letterboxd:
This review may contain spoilers.
“We found the very fabric of space-time itself appeared to store information about every event which had ever occurred in the past. But the experiment was a failure, for those who were resurrected only lived through a single day of renewed life. When the resurectees fell asleep on the night of their first new day they died again. As soon as they became unconscious, their very existence faded away into darkness. So you see David. The equations have shown that once an individual space-time pathway had been used, it could not be reused... If we bring your mother back now, it will only be for one day, and then you will never be able to see her again.”
“Maybe… Maybe she will be special. Maybe she will stay.”
This conversation between Ben Kingsley's Specialist and Haley Joel Osment's David that occurs in the film's coda feels like a conversation between Kubrick and Spielberg. The Specialist quote exemplifies Kubrick’s thought provoking philosophical concepts while David’s response exemplifies the child in Spielberg trying to find some kind of hope within all the darkness. This conversation between these two filmmakers has so much to do with what makes A.I. so fascinating, although the line between their differences may be more blurred than we think. For the record, I don't literally mean, "Kubrick did this vs. Spielberg did this" but rather, it functions as if Spielberg was contemplating what Kubrick would have done and then offered his own perspective along with it when he made the movie.
Visually the film does the same thing and has this balance between warm and cold colour tones that enriches this conversation even if so much of it is due to Kaminski's instincts. For most of the first act before David's love is imprinted, he and the surroundings are visually conveyed in tones of white, specifically when he is first introduced to Monica. Even more interesting is how upon first glance, David, out of focus, resembles the supermechas we see at the end of the film and aliens in general. Like aliens, David is a being naturally to be feared at first, but much like Spielberg's Close Encounters of the Third Kind, there is more to this relationship between humans and the "other" than we think. In fact, A.I. really is an evolution of what Spielberg did with Close Encounters but with androids instead of aliens, only here the humans fail to love and appreciate the "other" in return. When Monica imprints his programming and his love for her comes into fruition, Spielberg shoots the scene by windows where warm sunlight beams in with so much strength it both compliments the film’s environment as well as our growing trust and empathy towards David. I don't know what it's like to be a parent as of now, but I imagine the effect David's response has on Monica is emotionally spot on. Many of the film’s darkest moments happen in the cold whites, like the scenes in Manhattan, and dark blues, whether it be the forests under the moonlight, Rouge City, or in the deep of the ocean. When David gets to have his final day with his mother, we transition quickly from moonlight to sunrise, and the warmest of oranges dominates the film's aesthetic. In short, the film's visuals conflates both the love/empathy of David with the bleakness his whole existence bears, aka it conflates the strengths and geniuses of two filmmakers.
It becomes redundant and pointless for me to praise Spielberg’s craft over and over again because he’s almost always knocking it out of the park and trying to translate genius cinematic storytelling into words feels futile but whatever. I’ve said it before, but the best way to appreciate what Spielberg does is to turn the sound off and marvel at each image assembled that tells a story that is already legible without sound. I say this as I listen to the soundtrack lol. With that said however, I don’t think Spielberg has achieved the same poetic and haunting imagery in any other film he’s made. Some of my favourites include the supermechas learning what’s been haunting David his entire life by touching him as they project his memories over their faces (no dialogue – everything we need to know in one or two shots), David being framed within the confines of the face/toy of himself while several other David toys occupy the confines of other eye – the way in which these toys are obscured by the mask looks like they are hanging and thus possibly foreshadowing David’s suicide attempt, David’s face reflected in the family photos of Monica, Henry, and Martin, and the list goes on. What’s also just so great is how Spielberg’s mastery at capturing physical gestures renders perfectly to a character like David who is literally processing how to behave like a human for the first time.
Every scene in this movie has all of Spielberg’s sophisticated virtuosity, wonder, empathy, and excitement while also posing new and challenging thoughts, ideas, and questions about humanity and our future at every corner. What's not to love? Not only are we challenged by these thought provoking concepts, the haunting effects of them is greater because of how much Spielberg is attached to them emotionally. I’ll put it this way, I’m glad Kubrick didn’t make A.I. because I don’t think he’d be able to capture both the sense of adventure/fairy tale as well as make David feel like a human, or rather, more than human. Kubrick would have nailed how broken humanity becomes, but he wouldn't have been able to make a robot be able to love even more than humans. It would be there because of David's programming, but we'd never empathize with David unless Spielberg directed the movie. Spielberg not only has the better capacity to capture David’s subjectivity, he's also more suited to empathize with other characters from Monica to Teddy for example. Subjectivity with Spielberg is so essential and sometimes people forget that. Take Schindler's List for example, a few detractors of one scene say “cheap suspense” when I don’t see that. I see it as Spielberg trying to leap past objectivity towards sincerely capturing the interior and subjective experience of these victims. While one may see a scene like this as a flaw, I see it as one of his assets that makes his films so great. I've realized I really haven't touched on many specifics of this film yet I'm sorry!
There's a whole other review I could write dissecting Teddy and the choices he makes. Specifically how he reacts to, and favours David when others don’t. We can also apply the same ideas to Gigolo Joe, and through him and Teddy’s nature as androids, we can even get a better glimpse of David’s nature. If you pay close attention to Teddy, you’ll notice he takes on a liking to David, even wanting to protect him when the humans are distracted by something else. Right before David is provoked into eating, Teddy warns him “You’ll break”. David lies alone at the bottom of the pool at Martin’s birthday party, and the only one concerned with David lying there is Teddy. David gets caught and trapped at the flesh fair and Teddy runs the risk and goes to save him. Similarly, Gigolo Joe, programmed only to please women sexually, seems to grow a genuine connection with David through their shared adventure. Do Teddy and Gigolo Joe behave beyond their programming? If that’s the case, then couldn’t the same be applied to David? Could his programmed love for Monica evolve to actual genuine love devoid of any sense of programmed artificiality? Or is his programmed love genuine enough in itself? Side note: Shout out to all the lads who made Teddy happen. Teddy along with all the other effects from the film are some of the greatest special effects achievements ever. Maybe top 2 best special effects films of all time with The Lord of the Rings in my opinion. Funny how both these films were released in the same year.
For a while we aren’t given much of David’s subjectivity and we instead get to know Monica first. Spielberg does two things at the same time with her circumstances. One, we empathize with her grief of course and confront the fear of the uncanny David with her. Two, we are introduced to a new way of dealing with grief and a commentary on the future; humans are failing to save themselves from climate change and our richest geniuses are focusing on technological leaps that will not save them. Sounds pretty familiar huh…........ Professor Hobby and his team of scientists create robots for convenient purposes and ways for the wealthy to cope with their misfortunes. These two effects that embody Monica’s circumstance eventually functions as a way for us to ask one of the most important questions the film has to offer: does Monica truly love David or is he simply a placebo and a toy that helped her cope with her grief? Is her connection with David actual love? The answer could be no as most mothers (especially Spielbergian ones) would never abandon their child – this usually belongs to the father figure in a Spielberg film. Yet, the abandonment here is still forced upon by the father and clearly devastates Monica... just watch her performance in the woods. If the focus of the film didn't completely shift to David and instead we remained with Monica, Spielberg likely would have portrayed a divorce between Monica and Henry, as the loss of David would have completely ruptured the family unit for Monica, in my opinion. These questions are crucial to understanding where we are in the film now, but they will become even moreso when we get to the ending. We will get there. Every scene poses new and fascinating questions and I wish I had the time to cover them all. I also find it so cool how the introduction of David and subsequent scenes evoke and foreshadow a domestic horror movie and while A.I. does evolve into something supremely bleak, David (and Teddy) becomes the character we love and care for the most.
When David and Teddy must fend for themselves, the film takes a very bleak turn, which normally we’d attribute to Kubrick even though it’s highly speculated that the film’s darker elements come from Spielberg. This is merely one example of an element that untangles a myth about Spielberg, which is that he can be much more violent, perverse, unhinged, and just overall bleaker than people think when he wants to be. In all likelihood, these darker elements become somewhat hidden due to Spielberg capturing the subjectivity of David, again similar to what he does time and time again in his films. There’s one image specifically early in the second act that haunts me. Like in E.T., we see a large image of the moon beyond the forest. Only this time it’s a looming threat and is artificial. What was once a scene of escapism and childhood catharsis is now a horror show. I think these two scenes in contrast with each other symbolize the two sides to Spielberg, and he only pushes it further with the flesh fair sequence.
The flesh fair sequence is a fascinating portrayal of violence. What occurs looks like a Trump rally where humanity relishes in celebrating their attempted numerical superiority as they annihilate robots for pleasure. Watching the robots go out though takes on such a jarring effect, where the robots’ functions and purposes remain uncanny and stoic as they die. The nanny mecha specifically is the most compelling, since while she goes down without emotional protest, what we know of her evidently has deep emotional significance in relation to David’s programming. David is programmed to love his mommy and suffers without her. Meanwhile, the nanny mecha’s programming could easily provide David with the love in return but the nanny’s fate is doomed and it simply has to be Monica given the specificity of David’s programming. We, as humans, CANNOT just sensibly choose who we love. Only when paired with David’s gaze do we understand the weight of what’s going on. He’s not only being exposed to his potential foreseeable suffering, he is learning how dark and violent humans have become. Unlike 2001, humans are the villains and are the ones who betray the androids. What’s even more interesting about the flesh fair sequence is when remembering it in the context of what happens later when David in a violent and jealous rage destroys another David mecha. Would David have lashed out in such a violent rage had he not been exposed to the violent tendencies of humanity? Would David have done it had he not been on the receiving end of his bratty and jealous “brother” Martin earlier in the film? If the answer to these questions is no, then he therefore has transcended his specific programming, and earns a certain degree of free will.
Somehow as the film transitions into more of its fairy tale aspects, it also becomes bleaker than ever. David, in search for the blue fairy, essentially his God, is disillusioned by some of the most haunting moments where he learns he is not unique. “You are the first of a kind” Professor Hobby says, to which David learns of his nature as a product to be sold in one of the most depressing scenes filled with spine-chilling images of David looking around at the dozens of other David’s in storage. It's a devastating scene, but it reminds me of something we experience as kids and adults that influences how I think about the scene. We spend years wearing the same pair of running shoes for example, and at a certain point we wear them down and need a new pair. We go to the store and see the exact same pair of shoes displayed on the shoe wall. But they aren't the same pair. They can't be. They're too clean, new, and haven't gone through the same experience. The shoes we owned have shared with us too much of a journey to be reduced to the same pair that's displayed on the wall and we of course do not buy that "same" pair because it just doesn't feel right or feel the same at all. Seeing this, David’s programming becomes so dysfunctional he attempts suicide, landing alone in the Manhattan Sea just like how alone he was at the bottom of the pool at Martin's birthday party. The scene is a brilliant contradiction, since while David learns of his nature as a clone and as a product, Hobby also notes how human his quest has been since he has been chasing a dream. It portrays how depressing human dreams and wishes are when they are unfulfilled, as while David is showcasing his humanity by pursuing something, it only brings upon more pain and sadness.
Shortly after David attempts suicide, probably the most inexplicable and magical thing happens in the film. Like straight out of a fairly tale, a group of fish guides David to the blue fairy from Coney Island (this film's black monolith). I don’t really know how to put what makes this moment so beautiful into words and merely writing about it or even hearing those notes by John Williams brings tears to my eyes. I guess it feels as though there’s truly more to the realm of reality than we think and that David, even at his lowest, still cannot give up hope and that his journey is far from over. It's another moment that captures that conversation between Kubrick and Spielberg, where the cynical Kubrick sends a hopeless David to jump to his death and the hopeful Spielberg responds by making David believe in his quest and purpose again.
Finally, this brings us to the film’s coda. For 2000 years, David sits in front of the blue fairy smiling back at him, never granting his wish until his descendants find him and are able to see his memories in his storage. David incessantly wishing to be a real boy to the blue fairy is so profound because it essentially represents a version of humanity constantly praying to God to grant them whatever it is they want. A.I., while a layered science fiction film, has sprinkles of religious parables and imagery throughout. Look no further than David mistaking the Virgin Mary for the Blue Fairy in Rouge City followed by Gigolo Joe who says their creators are always in search for the ones who made them. Are David’s descendants and what they grant him his 2000 year old prayer coming true? As much as the ending is artificial and scientifically explained, it is clear David earns that feeling of being in "heaven" before "dreaming".
In perhaps the saddest ten minutes I’ve ever seen in a movie, David gets to spend one final day with his mother. I mentioned the ambiguity as to whether or not Monica truly loved David and to be honest, I still don’t know the answer, but while this sequence is wish fulfillment, is it not what the real Monica would do with David had there been no troubles “from her mind”? “No Henry, no Martin, no grief… only David”? Maybe it is, but all the painful subversive elements also suggest otherwise – instead of David cutting mommy’s hair, she cuts David’s hair and even when he wakes her in the same position as when he cut her hair, he gently pulls her hair away before her eyes open, instead of celebrating Martin’s birthday, they celebrate David’s birthday, etc. The supermechas essentially take David’s most traumatic and haunting memories and turn them on its head. What’s also important is considering specific moments and close ups in context. Take the way David says the words “I found you” to his mommy vs. the way he said those same words in the first act. Obviously it’s not what the words mean but how we say them. The sequence mirrors 2001's ending, only here I find it 1000x more haunting even though Spielberg never abandons the feeling of David’s elation on the audience. Spielberg is literally creating new reactions out of me I've never felt in a movie before. In an odd way this ending reminds me of Scottie in Vertigo in the sense that the love he is experiencing is not necessarily real, but it’s real enough to him. Love can be true and artificial at the same time.
Falling asleep with his mom, David goes to that place where dreams are born and acknowledges death and his end. What I really envy is David’s ability to be as happy as he is, likely and ironically due to his artificiality. David is able to enjoy his final day with his mom, something I could never do if I knew it was the last day I could spend with her. But that’s what’s so subversive about this film. Androids will one day have more human emotion than humans and be able to feel things we are incapable of feeling. The final moments Monica shares with David has permanently damaged me. In A.I., David’s journey to find his mom is over, but now he’s going to that place where dreams are born and something new, or nothing new, begins. By the end, David, with all his own roboticness and imperfections, was more human than anyone. To be human is to love, but to feel the beauty of living is to get love in return and in order to live he must die. Many defenders of this film like myself weep during the entirety of this coda, and that in itself proves why David’s artificial final day is worth it. Like David, we watch a movie, or better yet, we watch a scene from a movie that we know is trickery, that we know is artificial, and yet we are swept up and moved by it, to the point where we can believe in things like love again.
This is in the conversation for best film ever made to me and I can't believe it's just kind of existed my whole life and I didn't see it until this year. A bittersweet odyssey about how humanity will end, how love will eternally evolve, and the meaning of existence. It also just amalgamates my entire personality and perspective together. I’m pretty cynical about the future of humanity and our planet in a broad sense, but I’m also a sensitive little boy who knows there is nothing more beautiful about life than an unbreakable love for another person.
