Two years ago on SentDev: "Review of Mamoru Oshii's Avalon"

Two years I go wrote a review of Mamoru Oshii's sci-fi flick, Avalon.
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[Warning: this review contains lots of spoilers, but please, don't let that stop you.]

Back in 2001, Japanese anime director Mamoru Oshii went to Poland to direct his first live action movie, Avalon. Oshii, who is primarily known for his work in anime, is the director of the acclaimed 90's science fiction classic, Ghost in the Shell (1995) and the sequel, Ghost in the Shell II: Innocence (2004).

Now, before I get too deep into this review, I just want to make it clear that from a production perspective Avalon is a borderline B movie. The film was created on a limited budget and lacks the polished look and crisp dialogue of most mainstream films, particularly those that come out of Hollywood. The look and feel of Avalon is similar to a made-for-TV movie, although many of the special effects are of a superior quality. Also, the movie was a Japanese-Polish collaboration, which, given its Orwellian setting, gives it a unique authenticity.

That being said, like Ghost in the Shell, Avalon offers considerable food for thought.

Avalon is set in the near future, a world in which fully immersive virtual reality gaming is all the rage. Many players are able to earn a living through gaming, particularly in an ultra-violent war game called 'Avalon'. The game, however, is highly addictive and dangerous, causing some less skilled players to suffer from severe and permanent brain damage. Those who meet this fate are referred to as the 'unreturned.' Because of the risks, the game is outlawed by the state and made illegal.

The main character, Ash, lives a boring, lonely and mundane life in the real world. Her life in the simulation, by contrast, is filled with action, danger, and fulfillment. Where her real life is repetitive, pointless and safe, her virtual life is dynamic, challenging and frightening. Avalon is a world in which people come to value their virtual lives over their real ones. The game-master himself is looked upon in near reverential terms and is unmistakably made to resemble a priest.

In the game itself, Ash is an elite player driven to complete level after level. Her motivation for doing so is not entirely clear, even to her, save for the hope that something greater awaits her in the 'next level.' Eventually, after the introduction of a rival player and the discovery of certain clues, Ash succeeds at finding an elusive hidden level.

As Ash transitions to the mysterious level, the sepia tones that dominated the film's appearance are washed away to reveal a full colour panorama. The sensation is much like in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy opens the door in her black and white world and enters a new world filled with dazzling colour. Where Dorothy enters a world of fantasy and whimsy, Ash finds herself undergoing an existential paradigm shift.

Ash's previous reality, one that was draped in drab monotone, is immediately understood to represent a partially realized existence. The overwhelming sepia and lack of colour come to symbolize limitations to human and social capacity – limits of perception, cognition and sensation. Alternately, the new world, with all its visual richness and dynamism, opens up an entirely new set of possibilities for Ash.

Oshii is making a number of interesting analogies here, including a comparison of the past with the future. But more aptly, he is comparing life as it was in communist Europe to modern life in capitalist democracies. It is no accident that Oshii made this movie in Poland using native actors and Polish dialogue.

Prior to her entry into the final level, Ash's world was filled with Orwellian imagery. Bleak and eerie tones dominated the screen along with retro-futurist gadgetry reminiscent of such films as 1984, Brazil and Gattaca. Computer terminals were limited to 3D text displays. Books containing no text whatsoever filled shelves. People gathered at communal soup kitchens to eat gruel. Public transportation was dominated by shaky old-fashioned streetcars. The new world, by contrast – Ash's mysterious new level - was filled with billboards, streets filled with bustling people, modern cars and a rich cultural life (including a vivid performance by an actual orchestra).

The new level, however, also presented its challenges. Ash was instructed to hunt down a 'computer bug' -- a former player who escaped to the advanced level. The 'bug' turns out to be a former teammate of Ash's, Murphy, and when she finally confronts him he declares, “Reality is what we tell ourselves it is!” As instructed, she shoots the defector and transcends to yet another level -- another mode of existence -- but this time to the mythical Avalon itself.

In Oshii's Avalon, the comparison of a totalitarian system with that of a modern democratic one can be understood as a transition of simulations in the postmodernist sense. It is reminiscent of Baudrillard's cultural simulation as constructed by the media and the state itself.

Similarly, according to modal reality theory, any system that appears rational to an observer will be construed as real; what we as observers don't know, however, is what possibilities might lie beyond our own modal reality. In the Avalon war game, by advancing to the final level, Ash is given an opportunity to transcend her original modal reality and enter into one with entirely new possibilities.

The relevancy to transhumanism is also pertinant. Given the potential human augmentation, and given the possibility of our own existential mode shift (i.e. the Singularity and virtual existences), humanity might find itself much like Dorothy and Ash, exiting a world of black and white and entering a world of undiscovered colour.

Ultimately, Avalon is a treatise on how we choose to perceive life and how perception is imposed on us by life itself. The movie raises questions about the authenticity of existence in any type of world and how environmental, social and biological restraint/constraint impacts on a person's sense of their subjective life.

And as always, Mamomru Oshii has tapped directly into the zeitgeist of our times.

Peter Berg to direct new Dune movie

Director Peter Berg has been brought on by Paramount to create a new bigscreen version of Frank Herbert's classic novel, Dune.

As the article notes, "The filmmakers consider its theme of finite ecological resources particularly timely."

There can never be enough versions of this story.

The spice must flow.

Martian machines of war

PUMA's portrayal of cyborg athletes

PUMA takes you to the world of football in the year 2178 AD where they launch the v1.178 Speed Legs and transform the game as we know it. Oscar Pistorius, eat your heart out.

You can see a much better version at the PUMA site.

New Terminator show brings Singularity to prime time

Like most science fiction on television these days, the new Terminator show is virtually unwatchable. That said, they correctly introduced futurist lingo into the story.

At one point in the episode "The Turk," John Connor tells his mom, Sarah Connor, about the Singularity and describes it as a point in time when machines are able to build superior versions of themselves without the aid of humans--after which point they can pretty much kiss their asses goodbye.

That's just about right, actually. And I've always found the Terminator future to be one of the more disturbing dystopic visions. Given the potential for robotic armies and greater-than-human artificial intelligences, one has to pause for thought...

My sci-fi DVD collection is coming along nicely

Here's a list of my science fiction film collection (all on DVD):

2001: A Space Odyssey
A Clockwork Orange
A Scanner Darkly
Akira
Alien
Andromeda Strain
Animatrix
Appleseed
Artificial Intelligence
Avalon
Battle Star Galactica (2005-06)
Blade Runner
Castle in the Sky
Children of Dune
Children of Men
Close Encounters of the Third Kind
Code 46
Contact
Dark City
Donnie Darko
Forbidden Planet
Frank Herbert's Dune (2000)
Futurama (Seasons 1-4)
Gattaca
Ghost in the Shell
Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence
Johnny Mnemonic
Logan's Run
Matrix
Matrix: Reloaded
Metropolis (1927)
Metropolis (2002)
Minority Report
Planet of the Apes
Return of the Jedi
Robocop
Serial Experiments: Lain
Silent Running
Solaris (1972)
Star Wars
Stargate
Strange Days
Terminator 2: Judgement Day
The Day the Earth Stood Still
The Empire Strikes Back
The Fifth Element
The Thing (From Another World!)
The Thirteenth Floor
THX 1138
Titan AE
Tron
Vanilla Sky
War of the Worlds
Wizards

Any glaring omissions?

Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence - Scene 4: Coroner Haraway

Transcribed by James Skemp

[4 Coroner Haraway]

(A lab.)

The technician: "You can come here all you want, I'm not sharing this investigation. And if you're too persistent, I'll have you detained."

"I'm Togusa, Public Safety Section 9. This scary-looking fellow ..."

"Blew her apart with double-0 buckshot. A 50 caliber hollow point would've left her easier to reconstruct."

"She wasted 3 people, two of 'em cops."

"She was trying to commit suicide before you shot her. Isn't that right?"

(Long pause amongst them all.)

Togusa: "'Commit suicide' meaning ... Miss ..."

"Haraway."

"Miss Haraway, how exactly would a robot kill itself?"

"By intentionally malfunctioning, these gynoids are capable of self-authorizing attacks against humans. This liberates them from Moral Code #3."

"Which stipulates, 'Maintain existence without injuring humans.' Isn't 'self-destruction' more accurate?"

"If you assume differences between humans and machines are obvious."

"Are such 'suicides' confined to a particular model?"

"Not necessarily. In recent years we've seen a surge of robot related problems, especially among the 'pets'."

"The cause?"

"E-brain contamination from microbes and viruses, human production errors, functional defects from wear-and-tear. Take your pick, but ..."

"But?"

"I say it's because humans discard their robots once they're redundant. When owners trade up to newer models, some of those abandoned become vagrants, and degenerate. Perhaps it's a protest against their own obsolescence."

"Absurd."

"Humans are different from robots. That's an article of faith, like black isn't white. It's no more helpful than the basic fact that humans aren't machines.

"Unlike industrial robots, the androids and gynoids designed as 'pets,' weren't designed along utilitarian or practical models. Instead, we model them on a human image, an idealized one at that. Why are humans so obsessed with recreating themselves?

"Do you have children?"

Togusa: "A daughter."

"Children have always been excluded from the customary standards of human behavior, if you define humans as beings who possess a conventional identify and act out of free will. Then what are children who endure in the chaos preceding maturity? They differ profoundly from 'humans,' but they obviously have human form. The dolls that little girls mother, are not surrogates for real babies. Little girls aren't so much imitating child rearing, as they are experiencing something deeply akin to child rearing."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Raising children is the simplest way to achieve the ancient dream of artificial life. At least, that's my hypothesis."

"Children aren't dolls!"

Batou: "Descartes didn't differentitate man from machine, animate from inanimate. He lost his beloved five-year-old daughter and then named a doll after her, Francine. He doted on her. At least that's what they say."

Togusa: "Can we get back to reality here? I'd like your observations with respect to the Hadaly robot, model #2502, manufactured by Locus Solus."

"Right.

"It's very well designed. I understand it's a prototype, but it's intended for particular functions."

"Particular functions?"

"It's equipped with organs unnecessary in service robots."

"Meaning?"

"It's a sexaroid. Nothing to brag about to your neighbors, but hardly illegal."

"I get it. Scandal. No wonder those families settled out of court."

"When it's systems shut down, the electronic brain reformats. That's standard protection for manufacturer's proprietary software. But ..."

"But, what?"

"We found a file in the audio buffer. Care to hear it?"

(She plays the file.)

"Help me." (It repeats 12 and a half times before Batou stops it.)

Batou: "Thanks for your help."

Togusa: "One last question. It's none of my business, but ..."

"No, I've never raised a child. Nothing registered at the ovum bank."

"Thank you, Miss ..."

"Haraway. No need for Miss or Mrs."

(Togusa walks away, and her eyes and part of her face raise out and up from her head.)

The Director's Cut of the Director's Cut of Blade Runner

Wired's Ted Greenwald interviews Ridley Scott about the upcoming re-release of Blade Runner.

Excerpt:

Wired: Some of that ambiguity got squeezed out of the original version. It seems like you've been making up for it ever since.

Scott:I read an article recently saying that one of the reasons the film has found an ongoing audience is that it was incomplete. That's absolute horseshit. The film was very specifically designed and is totally complete. In those days, there was more discussion than was welcome, as far as I'm concerned. [Screenwriter] Hampton Fancher, [producer] Michael Deeley, and I talked and talked and talked — every day for eight months. But at the end of the day, there's a lot of me in this script. That's what happens, because that's the kind of director I am. The single hardest thing is getting the bloody thing on paper. Once you've got it on paper, the doing is relatively straightforward.

Wired: It was never on paper that Deckard is a replicant.

Scott:It was, actually. That's the whole point of Gaff, the guy who makes origami and leaves little matchstick figures around. He doesn't like Deckard, and we don't really know why. If you take for granted for a moment that, let's say, Deckard is a Nexus 7, he probably has an unknown life span and therefore is starting to get awfully human. Gaff, at the very end, leaves an origami, which is a piece of silver paper you might find in a cigarette packet, and it's a unicorn. Now, the unicorn in Deckard's daydream tells me that Deckard wouldn't normally talk about such a thing to anyone. If Gaff knew about that, it's Gaff's message to say, "I've read your file, mate." That relates to Deckard's first speech to Rachael when he says, "That's not your imagination, that's Tyrell's niece's daydream." And he describes a little spider on a bush outside the window. The spider is an implanted piece of imagination. And therefore Deckard, too, has imagination and even history implanted in his head.

Here's my review of Blade Runner.

Slavoj Žižek on Andrei Tarkovsky's Solaris and Stalker

Leis reviews NBC's Bionic Woman: "A disaster and an insult"

NBC's Bionic Woman sucks. Richard Leis, Jr. explains why:

Show creators apparently hate technology, especially when used to successfully save lives. At what price, they want to explore, do we do so? A character who suffers terrible trauma must continue to suffer long after they have transcended their human weaknesses and been relieved of their pain. The price, we learn, is generally too high, and it would have been better if the character had just died. Because they did not die, they now must spend the seasons performing altruistic acts, to give back to simple unenhanced humans who are owed some unexplained debt. The moment the transhuman start enjoying her powers, she will be taught a terrible lesson.

This bionic woman is a creation of nanotechnology and cybernetics, packaged in a beautiful and indistinguishable-from-human body. A simple bartender enriched by her involvement with a man of education and science must now pay the ultimate price for becoming transhuman. We do not learn in one episode, of course, exactly what price she will pay during her upcoming ordeals, but we can be sure it will be gratuitously gory and tearful.

Modern medicine is marvelous and technologies in labs and on the horizon suggest great things ahead. We know from experience that most people in pain, experiencing great suffering, or nearing death, will, no matter what their prior belief system, embrace relief. Relief is so obviously joyful that relief as horror as depicted in fiction simply rings false, yet writers go back to that same dark well over and over again.

Read the entire review here.

I've got my copy of Tarkovsky's Solaris!

Joy. I've finally got my own copy of the 1972 Soviet classic, Solaris. It will be a gem in my science fiction collection.

I've read Stanislaw Lem's novel and seen the recent Steven Soderbergh film, but I've never had an opportunity to watch Soviet director Andrei Tarkovsky's version from 1972 -- what is by all accounts a sci-fi classic.

Synopsis (from AMG):

Based on a novel by Stanislaw Lem, Solaris centers on widowed psychologist Kris Kelvin (Donata Banionis), who is sent to a space station orbiting a water-dominated planet called Solaris to investigate the mysterious death of a doctor, as well as the mental problems plaguing the dwindling number of cosmonauts on the station. Finding the remaining crew to be behaving oddly and aloof, Kelvin is more than surprised when he meets his seven-years-dead wife Khari (Natalya Bondarchuk) on the station. It quickly becomes apparent that Solaris possesses something that brings out repressed memories and obsessions within the cosmonauts on the space station, leaving Kelvin to question his perception of reality. Winner of the Grand Jury Prize at the 1972 Cannes Film Festival.

Solaris asks deep philosophical and existential questions about humanity's place in the Universe and the seemingly innate desire to expand. Tarkovsky suggests that humanity should look inward before it starts to look outward.

It's also about the radical potential for intelligent life and the problem of identification and interaction. Would we recognize superintelligence if we saw it? By portraying an advanced intelligence as a giant waterworld capable of manipulating human psychology, the film is essentially saying no. Solaris is a warning and a call for humility.

I'll be very interested to see how much communist ideology is embedded in this version. This was a time of great optimism; the Soviets, not unlike their U.S. rivals, had big hopes for space travel and the future in general (think Kardashev). Add the Marxist imperative for technological, industrial and social development and you get an interesting philosophical framework; it's the Soviet answer to Arthur C. Clarke's 2001: A Space Odyssey.

At one point in the film Dr. Snaut states, "We don't want to conquer space at all. We want to expand Earth endlessly. We don't want other worlds; we want a mirror. We seek contact and will never achieve it. We are in the foolish position of a man striving for a goal he fears and doesn't want. Man needs man!"

And Dr. Sartorius says, "Man was created by Nature in order to explore it. As he approaches Truth he is fated to Knowledge. All the rest is bullshit."

Ooooh, I can't wait to watch it :-)

Black Belt Bayesian: Star Trek's bad futurism

Steven from the Black Belt Bayesian blog has an interesting post about bad futurism in Star Trek.

Which makes me wonder about the kind of futurism that William Shatner will espouse at the upcoming TransVision conference in Chicago....


Related post: Star Trek's Prime Directive is Stupid.

Revisiting the day the Earth stood still

I sat down with my son recently to watch an old sci-fi classic, The Day the Earth Stood Still. This film is drenched in the 1950's weltanschauung, but it has truly withstood the test of time. I was amazed at how relevant this movie remains to this day nearly 60 years after its release.

Our current global situation is not too far removed from the realities of the 1950s. We continue to struggle for rational discourse and peace. The revealing sciences are yet again offering a glimpse into a future filled with great humanitarian possibilities. We remain wary of apocalyptic threats and the disturbing potential for a new set of extinction risks.

And not surprisingly, our messianic cravings still linger, whether they be for extraterrestrial salvation or the onset of a benign artificial superintelligence. The Day the Earth Stood Still is a wish-fulfillment movie if there ever was one.

Historical context

The 1950s were not a great time for the United States. Nerves were on edge as there seemed to be no end to international tensions and the madness of war. The Cold War had emerged and the stakes were never higher. The world had completely lost its innocence and was now living on borrowed time; the means for apocalyptic destruction were in hand.

With all this desperation and fear in the air, Hollywood was eager to oblige the collective consciousness. Audiences flocked to theaters for one of two reasons: to escape or to confront their fears head-on. A sampling of these films included "The Greatest Show on Earth" (1952), "An American in Paris" (1951), "The War of the Worlds" (1953) and "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" (1956).

But desperate times call for desperate hopes. Hollywood was also anxious to moralize and offer some optimism -- even if it was far-fetched optimism. Religion took a heavy blow after World War II, and many lost faith in a God who was apparently nowhere to be seen and didn't seem to care. If God wouldn't intervene in human affairs, than perhaps Hollywood could; the masses started to seek a different kind of deus ex machina.

Fantasy films in particular offered some interesting possibilities. Comic superheroes like Superman, Captain America and Batman would always come to the rescue. The Bat-Signal was proven to be more reliable than prayer.

Additionally, the newfound enthusiasm for science during the 1950s sparked an interest in science fiction. Combined with growing hopes for rocket ships and fears of alien invasion, these sentiments resulted in one of the greatest science fiction movies of all time, The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) (hereafter referred as TDTESS).

Substituting fear for reason

The story is exceedingly simple, yet provocative and poignant.

In the film, an extraterrestrial named Klaatu (played by Michael Rennie) arrives in Washington D.C. with an important message for the people of Earth. He insists that all national leaders be present for his address, but given the geopolitical stresses of the time such an arrangement is not possible. Frustrated, Klaatu approaches the scientific community who he believes will listen to reason. In the end, with a number of prominent scientists present, he offers humanity an ultimatum: Earth can either decide to abandon warfare and join other advanced nations -- a peace ensured by a massive deterrent force, the robot race Gort -- or else be considered a threat and subsequently destroyed.

Quite understandably, common sentiments during this era were characterized by pessimism and collective self-loathing. The rise and fall of the Nazi regime and the onset of the Cold War painted a very grim picture of humanity and its capacity for horror. This is the world that Klaatu found himself in, and we, the viewer, see it through his eyes; it is through an outsider's observations that we gain perspective.

Klaatu's unexpected arrival causes great fear in Washington. Not thirty seconds after he steps out of his ship does he get himself shot when his gift is confused for a weapon -- a precarious start to his mission and a sign of things to come. After his recovery in the hospital, Klaatu escapes in hopes of exploring the city. Residents become paranoid and are on the verge of hysteria. "I am fearful," says Klaatu, "when I see people substituting fear for reason." Earlier, during his meeting with the president's aid, he noted, "I'm impatient with stupidity. My people have learned to live without it."

Science, not faith

Unable to meet with political leaders, Klaatu seeks a leading American scientist, Professor Barnhardt. This in itself is very telling -- a suggestion that political leaders are far too myopic and stubborn, detached from reality and mired in their petty squabbles. The world has started to look to a new kind of leadership -- a leadership of reason and intelligence. It is no co-incidence that Barnhardt is made to look like Albert Einstein.

The shift to science also reflects the turning away from religion. "It isn't faith that makes good science," says Barnhardt, "it's curiosity." Barnhardt's words remind me of our current sociocultural reality where science and religion continue to clash. The resurgence of religion around the world has been met with much criticism, most notably by such outspoken scientists as Richard Dawkins and Daniel Dennett.

Somewhat surprisingly, the film lauds the benefits of science and technology a mere 6 years after Hiroshima and Nagasaki. In this sense, TDTESS can be interpreted as a film that does not buy into defeatism, instead suggesting that while science and technology may cause a lot of problems, it may also offer potential solutions.

Klaatu's technology is certainly amazing. His ship can travel 4,000 miles an hour, he has a cream that can heal gunshot wounds overnight, and incredible medical technology that seemingly brings a dead person back to life. As one medical physician noted, "He was very nice about it, but he made me feel like a third-class witch doctor."

The quest for security

In addition to these advanced technologies, Klaatu also brings with him incredible destructive force. In an awesome display of power, he shuts down all the electricity on Earth for half-an-hour. And of course, he has Gort -- the intimidating robotic presence who patiently lurks in the background.

Gort is the stick with which Klaatu can enforce his ultimatum. "There's no limit to what he could do," he says, "He could destroy the Earth." Klaatu stresses the importance of law and the need to enforce it. "There must be security for all, or no one is secure. This does not mean giving up any freedom, except the freedom to act irresponsibly."

Klaatu's plea for world security on film acts as a call for international co-operation in the real world. A number of observers of the day, Einstein included, believed that the advent of nuclear weapons necessitated the creation of more powerful global bodies and even world federalism. Today, with the threat of bioterrorism, ongoing nuclear proliferation, and the future potential for nanotech catastrophes, the call for increased global co-operation can once again be heard.

Driven by the rational desire for self-preservation, Klaatu's society has given the robots police-like powers. "In matters of aggression, we have given them absolute power over us. This power cannot be revoked," says Klaatu, "At the first signs of violence, they act automatically against the aggressor. The penalty for provoking their action is too terrible to risk." Klaatu denies that his people have achieved any kind of perfection, but instead the attainment of a system that works. "Your choice is simple," he says, "Join us and live in peace, or pursue your present course and face obliteration. We shall be waiting for your answer. The decision rests with you."

Interestingly, Gort's power is analogous to the nuclear bomb itself -- they are both ultimate deterrents. The implication brings to mind the so-called policy of Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD). To engage in nuclear war or set off the Gort robots would be one-in-the-same: a suicidal gesture. Did TDTESS suggest that the means to peace was already in hand?

The messianic urge

As Klaatu and Gort fly away in their spaceship, the viewer cannot help but feel that their stern message was akin to an admonition from God. Indeed, the theological overtones in TDTESS are undeniable. Klaatu, when hiding among humans, goes by the name Carpenter, an obvious reference to Jesus. He is the messiah who has come down from the heavens to impart his message and save the people of Earth.

In recent times this theme has been taken quite literally by a number of religious groups and cults, most notably the Raelian sect. Similarly, the craving for messianic guidance is being re-applied to a different source, namely artificial superintelligence. The rise of Singularitarianism is an overt plea for advanced intervention, the suggestion that humanity is not capable of saving itself and that it requires a higher, albeit non-divine, power.

An archetypal story

The Day the Earth Stood Still is a story for the ages. Along with its famous phrase, "Klaatu barada nikto," it has made an indelible mark in popular culture. At a deeper level it is a reflection of how societies deal with desperation, fear and hopelessness. It is an eye-opening snapshot into human nature and the different ways in which people react to stress and an uncertain future.

In this sense it is truly an archetypal story -- one that I'm sure will continue to be relevant in the years and decades to come.

Latest podcast available

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In this episode I ask the question: when did intelligence first emerge in the Universe? I also discuss the stupidity of Star Trek's Prime Directive, bald women in science fiction, and mind-controlling parasites.