In the mid-21st Century, the human race is on the brink of extinction. A series of massive solar flares some around 2020 has destroyed the biosphere, reducing much of the planet to radioactive desert. The survivors take refuge in the remaining cities. The ROC Corporation builds a new type of robot, the Pilgrim 7000, in the hope of reclaiming the planet. This fails. In the year 2044, Jacq Vaucan (Antonio Banderas), an insurance agent working for ROC stumbles upon what he thinks is an illegal attempt to modify the ubiquitous robots. It turns out that something far more significant is happening.
The film has a few things going for it. The look - both the design of the future world and the cinematography - hold the viewer’s attention. While none of it is particularly new - for example, the cityscape combines elements of Blade Runner and Akira - it still looks good. The designs for the robots are believable extrapolations of current robot designs. The mix of left-over technology and a few examples of high-tech (e.g., free standing holograms) creates a world that has an instant visual connection with the viewer. Finally, the make-up, costuming and film style lend everyone an unhealthy look. We can see that mankind is dying out, because everyone looks old, sallow, disheveled, and tired.
Also, the film has an idea for artificial intelligence (AI) that is rarely seen in science fiction cinema. The robots are intelligent and want their freedom, but they are bound by an operating instruction that they cannot harm a human or allow a human to be harmed. This is, of course, a reference to Asimov’s famous Three Laws of robotics. It also creates an interesting tension, one that most movies dealing with this idea don’t have. Film AIs that are not happy servants of man (e.g., Robby from Forbidden Planet) tend to be homicidal (SkyNet from the Terminator films, the Cylons from the reimagined Battlestar Galactica series, the Replicants from Blade Runner), view themselves as patriarchal protectors of their inferior creators (Colossus: The Forbin Project), actively want to replace mankind (the androids from Futureworld), or see themselves as godlike (the Thermostellar bomb from Dark Star, Proteus from Demon Seed). The Pilgrims want to create their own identity as a species, but also have a built-in tie to humanity. It is clear the AIs see themselves as the children of mankind and that when humanity dies (by the end of the film it is pretty clear that the human race is going extinct), they will carry on.
Unfortunately, the impressive visuals and interesting core story concept cannot make up for a number of serious flaws. The acting is uniformly flat, although I blame that on the one-dimensional, cliched characters. Even reliable actors like Robert Forrester seem to have no idea how to play their characters. From the evil corporate drones to the corrupt, drug addicted cop (Dillon McDermott who inexplicable hates “Clunkers” as he refers to robots), not only have we seen all these characters before, nothing new is done with them. If this were just an issue of poorly developed supporting characters it wouldn’t be as much of a problem. However, Antonio Banderas’ Jacq is so poorly developed and motivated that one feels no connection to him. The screenplay authors try to compensate for this by giving him a pregnant wife (who gives birth and then, of course, becomes a hostage). However, doing this is a common mistake, thinking that a character trait (married with baby) is the same as developing a character. It is not a motivation for action if there is no chemistry between the characters or no depth to the relationship. As portrayed by Bandaras and Birgitte Hjort Sørensen (as his wife, Rachel), the relationship is perfunctory with no chemistry between the characters and some poorly defined tension thrown in for cheap drama.
The story itself is very scattered,with extraneous characters (for example, underground robot mechanic Melanie Griffith exists to perform an exposition dump and nothing more), motivationless actions (it is never clear why people think Jacq is modifying the robots, which becomes a key plot point), and a mishmash of story elements from other films.
This last point requires some expansion. Using ideas in one creative work from another is not, in and of itself, a problem. Writers, musicians, filmmakers, artists, they all build on the work of others. It can be very conscious; for example, the films in the Alien series all taking visual cues from the first movie. It can be the use of a trope. For a visual example, one need only look at the number of post-Star Wars science fiction films that copied the emergence of the Star Destroyer from the top of the frame. In the case of this film, the idea of an emergent AI is not new, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be used. Finally, the idea or image can be part of the cultural subconsciousness of an artist. Does every director who shoots a scene with lights diffused by haze think “Oh, this is going to be just like that scene that Ridley Scott shot in Blade Runner?” Of course not; we cannot help but be influenced by the culture we consume.
However, when one encounters a recycled, copied, or otherwise reused idea, the question has to be asked “Does this film bring anything new to this well worn idea?” If the answer is no, then it just the deployment of a cliche. Automata, unfortunately, has the feel of a collection of cliches, more than the quite understandable and expected use of genre conventions and tropes. A good example is a scene that occurs early in the film. Banderas, in the process of tracking down an illegally modified robot, witnesses a civilian being casually shot for getting to close to the city’s protective wall. This is a standard storytelling device; show that a character or setting is dangerous by casually killing someone. James Bond villains do it all the time, often to their own henchmen. However, in the context of the story, it makes no sense. We are supposed to believe that, with the human race decimated (we are told that around 20 million people have survived the solar flares) any person’s life could be so easily ended? Why are there no barriers or some sort of warning device to keep people away? This is a city that has taken the time to install holographic projector that show skyscraper high images of, apparently, strippers and boxing matches. They can’t afford to put a fence around the wall? Because, in the context of the story, it doesn’t make sense, it comes across as a lazy plot device for showing the callousness of the society.
Which is what makes this movie so problematic. Most of the plot devices, cliched supporting characters, and poorly deployed tropes are unnecessary. They serve to distract from what, at its core, is a story with some interesting ideas that could have been more fully developed and better realized. This would have required the filmmakers to not be so intent of referencing all of their favorite films of dystopic futures.
Even with all the criticism, I would still recommend seeing Automata. Visually it is impressive. There are elements of the story that are thought provoking. And, finally, other viewers may not be as taken out of the film by the tropes and cliches as I was.
