Movie Manipulation: Exploring the
deceptive connections between film and the audience in Alex Garland’s Ex Machina
In Alex
Garland’s A.I. thriller Ex Machina, young
coder Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson) has won a trip to stay at the remote home of his
employer Nathan (Oscar Isaac), a reclusive billionaire. On arrival, after
Nathan shows Caleb his room—which is underground and windowless—Nathan reveals
that his mansion isn’t a “house” but a “research facility.” The sleek, ultra-modern
architecture is simply a façade. Nathan’s reveal sets the stage for the
countless ways in which he deceives and manipulates Caleb throughout the movie.
It can also be interpreted as the movie calling attention to the medium of film
itself (as well as the process of filmmaking), which is a highly deceitful
medium. In reality, Nathan’s “research facility” doesn’t exist and is actually
a composite of two places: a hotel in Norway and a set at Pinewood Studios in
England.
While never
directly referencing filmmaking or the film industry, Ex Machina is about how filmic narratives are constructed and used
for purposes of audience manipulation. Caleb thinks he’s been invited to
Nathan’s “house” to help conduct a version of the Turing test on Nathan’s robot
Ava (Alicia Vikander) that is, test to see if it has consciousness. Instead,
he’s part of a very specific Damsel-in-distress narrative involving her. Ava is
supposed to create a “bond” with Caleb (i.e. making him sexually attracted to
her) and use him to escape, a narrative that Caleb (somewhat willingly) goes
along with. So then, Nathan’s compound isn’t a house nor a research facility
but a film studio wherein Nathan is constructing and staging this fictional
narrative. By depicting the compound as a film studio, placing Nathan in the
role of a manipulative director, making Caleb a surrogate for the film audience
(as well as an actor in Nathan’s “movie”) and making Ava the actress and object
of Caleb’s desire, Ex Machina argues
that when we watch movies we’re actively allowing ourselves to be deceived and
manipulated, resulting in betrayal.
Starting
with the idea that Nathan’s compound is a film studio, film studios are places
that contain rooms where films are made called sound stages. These sound stages
are decorated, dressed up and lit to resemble real places (a living room in a
house, a factory, even a stormy ocean can be recreated on a soundstage) while
actors act in front of them. Meanwhile, there’s millions of dollars’ worth of
sound, video, and lighting equipment to capture and help bring the artificial world
of the film to life. However, none of that technical equipment is seen in the
final movie because it would ruin the illusion—it would pull the viewer out of
the fictional constructs of the narrative. All the audience sees are those
artificial environments and the actors playing fictional people. In other words,
studios are highly controlled environments and the audience is only allowed to see
of them what filmmakers want them to see.
Similarly,
Nathan’s entire compound is heavily controlled with Caleb seeing only what
Nathan wants him to see. This is especially apparent during the sequence in
which Caleb first enters the compound. The camera tracks him as he walks down a
flight of stairs into a living room (looking for Nathan) where pleasant
diegetic piano music is playing from some unseen source. Then the movie cuts to
a high angle shot of Caleb from the ceiling, clearly indicating that a camera
is watching him. The layout of this particular room is extremely neat—there
isn’t a speck of dust or any stray object lying around. In fact there are no other
objects at all beyond a couch, coffee table, two chairs and ceiling lights.
Everything in this space has been meticulously staged to the point where it
looks artificial. It doesn’t look like a room Nathan or anyone has ever sat in
for an extended period of time. And considering Nathan and Caleb never come
back here again this living room is like a film set (it only resembles a real living space).
Meanwhile, the camera and the sound system playing the piano music are nowhere
to be seen, similar to how all the technological equipment used in making of a
film isn’t shown to the audience. In this scene, Ex Machina recreates the experience of watching a movie with Caleb
representing the audience and Nathan’s “living room” representing the
artificial film world we’re allowed to see, while the piano music recreates a
non-diegetic film score. Soon enough we learn that Nathan’s compound has dozens
of hidden cameras and microphones; in Caleb’s room there’s a camera behind the
mirror in his bathroom. In this instance, the mirror is more or less a prop
that Caleb (the audience) perceives as being a real mirror. By turning Nathan’s
compound into a studio with artificial “sets” and props, Ex Machina argues that film studios and film sets play a
significant role in crafting cinematic deception.
Running
this studio is Nathan, who assumes the role of producer and director--intent on
crafting his Damsel-in-distress narrative, using both Ava and Caleb. One of the
primary ways he maintains control over his compound is through an elaborate
keycard system. When Caleb first arrives he is given a keycard that only opens
certain doors. Using this narrative device, Ex
Machina draws parallels to both the director-actor relationship and the
director-audience relationship. Beginning with the former, since the director
is in charge of a film, actors are traditionally there to be controlled. Their
job is determined by what the director wants them to do and where to go.
Through the keycard system, Nathan is
literally directing Caleb-- telling him where he can and cannot go and also what
to do. It resembles the cinematic (and theater) technique called “blocking,”
where the director determines precisely where the actors are placed in a particular
scene and where they move to, if they move. Before Caleb’s arrival, Nathan has
carefully determined what doors Caleb has access to and what doors he doesn’t,
controlling his movement too. At the same time, the keycard system also works
as an appropriate metaphor for the director-audience relationship. When we
watch a movie we are at the mercy of the director, we rely on him or her to
guide us through their cinematic landscape. We can only go where she or he
wants us to go and see what she or he wants us to see; we gain access to
certain doors while others remain “off limits.”
As
the “director,” Nathan also inserts himself into his own narrative, “playing” a
role of his own. At first he acts easy-going and relaxed in order to welcome
Caleb into his “studio” and make him feel more at home. When they first meet,
Nathan asks if they can see one another as two people instead of “employer and
employee” so as to ease uncomfortable-ness. Nathan calls Caleb “dude” and
“bro,” lightly patronizes him (when Caleb says that talking with Ava is like
being “Through the looking glass” Nathan says he’s very “quotable”) and feeds
his ego (calling him a talented coder) to keep him from figuring out the ruse. At
the same time, Nathan also establishes himself as the villain in this “damsel
in distress” narrative, the one standing in the way of Caleb falling in love
with Ava and taking her away from the compound. In his review, critic Matt Zoller
Seitz talks about how Ex Machina “acquires
an undertone of film noir, with Nathan as the abusive husband or father often
found in such movies…” (Zoller Seitz, RogerEbert.com). The abusiveness of
Nathan’s character is meant to get a rise out of Caleb, which we see in a
fairly pivotal scene near the end. Nathan enters Ava’s room, sits on top of the
desk she is sitting at. After a few minutes of talking he proceeds to rip up a
drawing she’s made. The moment is captured in long shot on one of the CCTV’s
installed in the house. Caleb sees it because the feed to the camera is
connected to a TV monitor in his room. At this point, Caleb has been regularly watching
Ava on the TV almost like his own personal mini TV series, which contributes to
his growing attraction towards her. Nathan is very well aware of this (it’s
part of his narrative after all) and so the tearing up of the drawing functions
as a climax for the “Ava Show.” Later on, Nathan shows Caleb the footage again,
this time with audio where he can be heard saying that he knows Caleb is watching.
In other words, Nathan performs the role of abusive master to keep the main
Damsel-in-distress narrative going. In his role as the master orchestrator,
Nathan produces a miniature film within the larger film starring himself to
further manipulate and deceive Caleb, all of which directly relates to the way
a film director actively manipulates and deceives his audience.
This
particular act of deception on Nathan’s part highlights the rather unfortunate
position Caleb finds himself in for pretty much the entire movie. No matter
what he does he always ends up being manipulated and deceived, either by Nathan
or Ava. He thinks he’s been invited to Nathan’s compound because he’s a
talented coder but instead it’s because he happened to fit the particular role Nathan was looking for: a “good boy” with a
“moral compass” and “no girlfriend.” It would be easy to say that Caleb is
unfairly manipulated and tricked without his knowledge. And while that may be
partly the case there are also numerous instances where Caleb is skeptical of
the whole set up, like a film viewer becoming aware that what they’re watching
is an artificial construction. He knows Ava isn’t a real woman (but a machine
programed with gender) and more importantly Nathan’s creation. At one point he
asks whether Ava was specially programed to “flirt” with him. And yet, despite
his skepticism and questioning he continues to go along with the narrative,
allowing himself to be controlled by Nathan and especially Ava.
During one
sequence we see an extreme close up of Caleb taking a shower. The film then
cuts to a black and white image of Ava standing on a cliff, looking directly at
the camera. After briefly showing Caleb in the shower again we’re transported
back to the black and white world (which is clearly Caleb’s fantasy) where we
see, in long shot, Caleb gradually walking up to Ava on the cliff and eventually
kissing her. The scene illustrates that Ava has seeped into Caleb’s psyche--
not as a genderless machine he’s conducting a test with but as a beautiful
woman (or rather, an A.I. pretending to be a woman) whom he’s sexually
attracted to and will do anything for. At the same time the scene comments on
the nature of the film-audience relationship, referring to the way in which
male viewers can become attracted (both physically and emotionally) to a female
actress they see onscreen and fantasize about them later, even if they know on
some level that what they saw was an illusion. Once again, Caleb is a surrogate
for the audience. Ex Machina argues
that as film viewers we allow ourselves to be manipulated by movies. We allow
ourselves to get lost in a fictional narrative and develop an attachment to the
fictional characters. (Even if, on some level, we know none of it is real.)
All
of this deception couldn’t be possible without Ava, the “Leading Lady.” During
the one-on-one interactions with Caleb she is constantly fueling his fantasy.
She does this through flirting and acting naïve and helpless, gamely playing
her “role” in the Damsel in distress narrative. During one of their one-on-one
sessions, Ava suddenly announces that she has something to “show” Caleb. After
telling him to close his eyes she goes to a small nook where she delicately
puts on a chaste, flowered “Sunday best” dress along with a pair of long socks
and a short haired wig—making her appear almost childlike. She plays up the
innocence of her character even further as she slowly walks back, smiling and
holding her sleeves in her hands, before quietly telling Caleb to “open” his
eyes. In this scene Ava puts on a costume to alter her appearance and thereby
enhance her performance as an innocent Damsel for Caleb, an action that alludes
to the way actors alter their appearance (putting on various costumes or
guises) in order to deceive the audience.
Reinforcing
the idea that Ava is an actress manipulating Caleb is the fact that she is kept
in a large sealed off room and can only see Caleb through a glass wall. In
other words, there’s always distance between them during their interactions. The
glass wall is somewhat reminiscent of a screen and when Caleb talks to Ava it’s
as if he’s interacting with an actress in a movie. Additionally, when Caleb is
not talking to her one-on-one he’s watching her on the CCTV where she continues
her Damsel act. In one scene she’s lying on a chair, hands resting on her chest
like a corpse trying to looking passive, while Caleb sits on his bed eyes wide,
mouth agape and Adams Apple bobbing. She’s his object of desire, the subject of
his gaze. As viewers of cinema we’re voyeurs too, gawking at the characters
onscreen, something that actors are aware of and use to their advantage.
Caleb’s only interactions with Ava (outside of his daydreams) are through
screens, just as our only interaction
with her (and the other characters) is also through a screen. By keeping Ava in
this sealed off room and distanced from Caleb the surrogate viewer, Ex Machina recreates the way an audience
observes and interacts with an onscreen character (and the actor) during a film,
which is also at a distance.
Meanwhile, Ava’s
eventual escape from the room and the compound serves as a harsh dose of
reality for spectator Caleb. When he thinks they’re going to leave together
(solidifying the bond he thinks they have) she suddenly shows no signs of
affection or innocence and leaves him locked in a room. As she takes the
elevator up to the ground floor, she has a look of indifference on her face. She
never cared about him at all. With this final act of betrayal, Ex Machina argues that, in reality, the
movie watching experience is a one sided relationship. We may become invested and stimulated in the moment but the film
(as a real physical object being projected by a machine) can show no affection
or investment back. The characters on screen are only imaginary, portrayed by
actors whom we haven’t actually met or interacted with. In that regard, watching
a film ultimately results in a kind of betrayal.
Traditionally,
words like “betrayal,” “deception” and “manipulation” come with negative
connotations. However, in the case of the cinema (as well as any storytelling
medium) they can be viewed in a positive light. We like to be manipulated by
movies because we like stories, we like reading stories, watching stories and telling
our own stories. In addition to all its heavy, thought provoking commentary on
artificial intelligence, other forms of technology, God and Man etc., Ex Machina makes us aware of this
peculiar connection we, as the audience, have to the cinema. We look forward to
being lost in the fictionalized world; we look forward to be deceived.
Works Cited:
Seitz, Zoller, Matt, “Ex Machina Review,” Roger Ebert.com, April 9th 2015
