By
Graig Uhlin
Arizona Daily Wildcat
Pinnochio-inspired fairy tale provokes thought and stirs emotion
Grade: A-
There have been months of speculation preceding the release of "A.I." Cineastes have endlessly mused, conjectured and dreamed about the possibilities of a film project once in development with Stanley Kubrick, only to be later picked up by Steven Spielberg following the death of the legendary director. What would such a combination lead to? How would the completely different styles and sensibilities of two of the greatest masters of the screen match up - would it be a wondrous union of genius, A meets B to create an even greater C, or would the differences be too much for one film to handle, a center that cannot hold, making one big cinematic car crash?
The film has now been released, but moviegoers are no closer to an answer than before. Nor are the critics, who, in reviews published sometimes more than a week before opening day, are divided over the merits of the film. And so the debate rages on. Where is it most like Spielberg? Where can one see Kubrickian moments? Does the film's more metaphysical musings detract from its emotional center? Isn't that the kid from "The Sixth Sense"?
OK, the last one is easy. Haley Joel Osment - he sees robotic people, walking around like regular people - stars as David, a robotic boy who is the first of his mechanical kind to be programmed to love. Robots of David's kind are the first mechanical children manufactured in this futuristic world where the ice caps have melted, meant to fulfill the demand of parents like Monica and Henry Swinton (Frances O'Connor and Sam Robards, respectively), whose own real son is cryogenically frozen until a cure for his illness might be found. That cure is found and their son Martin returns and David's place in the home soon becomes unwelcome, though Monica cannot bear to see him destroyed. She abandons him in the woods, but David, remembering the Pinnochio bedtime story, begins his quest for his own humanity in order to return home to his mother.
The story is essentially a sequence of set-ups whereby Spielberg - who also wrote the screenplay, his first since "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" - explores what it means to be human and what basic quality separates us from machines. But it also has some touching moments - those poignant, wipe-away-a-tear scenes that Spielberg is so good at. And that Kubrick doesn't bother with.
So here lies the disparity that film buffs are attempting to reconcile when watching "A.I." - what Wildcat reporter Phil Leckman identifies as structure versus story in his column this week. Kubrick has mastered the former, Speilberg the latter, and as Kipling wrote "East is East and West is West, and never the twain shall meet." But that doesn't mean "A.I." doesn't try and damn if it doesn't come extremely close.
Yet often the film's stylized artistry and philosophical speculations make the more emotional moments seem contrived, and conversely, the compelling story often seems too weighted down with "big issues." There is something about Speilberg's more intimate directorial style that is seemingly incapable of containing these larger issues that Kubrick tackled so competently.
This is a film though that is a wonder to behold simply because it attempts so much. The acting is top-notch, the art direction beautiful to look at and the story is heartfelt and sincere - all this and it makes you think. This is a film no reviewer should say anything bad about, but simply advise: go see it for yourself and let me know what you think.
