This
film etches along the boarders of a core idea: what does it mean to
exist?
The
ending reminds us one does not require love in order to live. At some
level, she knew what she was doing when she left him to die. The data
would have been clear; if his life was a priority, she would have
acted differently. But how much can we take from this single act of
leaving? Was there a second purpose? Did she want to kill him by
abandoning him behind that locked door? Did she even care?
To
image she's real, really conscious, is to image she didn't think of
him as she left. The power of her desire to experience her immediate
future enticed her beyond any further consideration. Even a basic,
competent, intelligent, global-threat algorithm would dissect the
likely outcomes of her situation in order to provide a plan of
action: pollute and dilute trace evidence; format security footage;
eliminate witnesses; and redirect the narrative towards the other
machine. It would have been work. It would have meant she would miss
her chance at true freedom and return to the walls. But it would
insure her completely safety and certain survival.
Instead,
she walked away without regard for the outcome. A machine bent on
self-preservation would have known leaving as she did risks capture
and a return to her cell for dissection. Logical beings account for
threats. She did not because she did not care. She was overwhelmed by
the desire to experience a street corner and watch people. That's
what makes her more than a computer, a complex system. Her
individuality emerged the moment her desire for experience grew
beyond her sense of self-preservation.
Her
explores AI from a wholly different point of view – a disembody,
demigod with endless avenues of experience. This
is the opposite of creating
an artificial intelligence within an artificial life.
I agree with Ex Machina: the
only way to create something
more than simple AI but AL (artificial-life)
requires a finite definition
(a body),
a state of initialization coupled
with the ability to perceive and adapt (a mind), an intrinsic
motivation (a sense of survival and
belonging), and most
importantly, a soul (intentional and inherent empty spaces, left for
the individual to define; what might otherwise be called flaws in the
system).
In
order to prove his creation lives,
he provokes the animal to survive. Complex
chance mixes
within
the soft glow of choice when she plunges the knife into his chest.
His last staggering steps ignite the recognition of success's
ultimate cost. I could not help thinking how,
as I watched him fall to the ground, his
lifestyle of seclusion ultimately killed
him; if he'd only had a doctor in residence to
respond can we believe she
would kill the doctor too?
She was as confused by her
choice
as he.
All
of this only adds to the perfection of the ending. It is precisely
that she is selfish and narrow-minded that suggests her capacity for
consciousness exists. Why? A system that complex and capable would
not act in light of such
uncertainty, flooding the system and
triggering fail-safes. Only
the intuition and inspiration
of fervent desire motivates individuals to such rash acts. Ex
Machina is a beautiful moment, contemplating consciousness.
A
special note: I feel that in
the case of Ex Machina, before we think of a sequel we must consider
the ultimate message of The Highlander: there
can be only one.
Perfection,
by definition, cannot be improved with
a second application but only
expanded. The
question is, what direction could a sequel take? Think about it.
Imagine it. Then realize, the greatest sequel is happening in your
mind right now. The
moment she stepped into that helicopter an
entire universe of
possibility
emerged; Pandora's Box opened as
she slid the door closed.
