Easily the most surprising thriller in recent memory, Ex Machina stylishly welcomes us into what is sure to be a summer movie season for the record books. Though its cool facade never seeks to approach blockbuster status, its pristine gloss and wildly intelligent craft far surpass most of the crap going through our cinemas in the last two months. What we have here is a concept-driven meditation on humanity, technology, and their increasingly ambiguous relationship. In fact, I would consider this picture to be the dark sister of Spike Jonze's 2013 Her; in each, we see a human man develop his understanding of an artificial intelligence (not insignificantly coded as female) before his attachment becomes romantic.
But it is, to be sure, the Gothic version of that tale. We have a futuristic haunted house, an ambiguous host with bizarre idiosyncrasies, bodies stuffed in closets, guests-turned-prisoners under observation and study, and even a particularly disturbing murder. So who's who? Okay, the lonelyheart oddball is played with striking vulnerability by Domhnall Gleeson, who is certainly one to keep on your radar (he is a busy rising star, with roles in Calvary, Anna Karenina, and the upcoming The Revenant and Star Wars: Episode VII). He is matched by the pitch-perfect Oscar Isaac (a personal favorite, bringing to mind his other recent triumph in A Most Violent Year) whose buff machismo is almost as subversive as his character's plans. And Alicia Vikander steals the show with her incredible movement work as the Artificial Intelligence robot called Ava. Most importantly, first-time director Alex Garland controls his film with a measured, contemplative eye and a calculated grasp on a lot of abstractions. Here he presents a gripping thriller made all the more important with its theological underpinnings, to say nothing of its technological, sociological, or even sexual dimensions (the romantic/erotic drive of this film lies most potently in what we don't clearly see: Ava "undressing" her previous incarnations, Caleb's voyeurism, Nathan's sadistic control over his servant and even Caleb (thinly disguised as flirtation)).
Ex Machina is slow but never ponderous, and its examination of human existence is almost unbearably precise, if suspiciously broad. Garland's camera (rather, cinematographer Rob Hardy's camera) lingers over exquisite but sparse sets, forcing us to consider factors of wealth and materialism in Nathan's world. Gorgeous shots of clouds passing over mountains are juxtaposed with sessions between Caleb and Ava, serving as a breath of fresh air out of the confining artificial light of Nathan's underground lair and reinforcing an unspoken conflict of interests between nature and artifice, God and man. It is not by mistake that it is outside that Caleb receives almost divine inspiration to question Nathan's motivations and behaviors, and where he ultimately decides to betray Nathan. In one outdoor instance, Caleb asks if Nathan ever feels like God, and in an indoor scene not long after, Nathan declares himself to be like God.
If you're thinking that this movie sounds all over the place, I promise it's not. But it does suggest a wide range of hot discussion points for you to immediately hop on as you're walking out of the auditorium. It's intimate but abstract, and its power lies in its almost fantastic quality: Like a parable, it presents us with archetypes and Big Picture themes, lets them do damage to each other, and forces us to make our own interpretive conclusions about what happens. All while we sit on the edge of our seats.
And you thought you were just going to relax at the movies this summer.
P.S. - If you were wondering, I think this film brings a harsh focus on the more common concept of deus ex machina ("god from the machine") specifically in the absence of deus in the title. I found the film's theological themes particularly stimulating as a result of the conspicuous lack of a "god-force" in the film. But that might be a discussion for another time.
IMDb: Ex Machina
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