
  A former special forces soldier is tasked with tracking down the creator
        of a deadly new piece of AI technology.
  Review by
          Eric Hillis
  Directed by: Gareth Edwards
  Starring: John David Washington, Gemma Chan, Ken Watanabe, Sturgill Simpson, Madeleine Yuna Voyles,
      Allison Janney
 
      
  It's fair to say that among Hollywood creatives, Artificial Intelligence
      is about as popular as a fart in a tent right now. The threat of AI to
      their livelihoods was one of the reasons behind the writers' strike of
      2023. It's ironic that the strike came to an end just days before the theatrical release of Gareth Edwards' The Creator, a sci-fi thriller that asks its audience to sympathise with AI.
      Something tells me Edwards isn't going to be elected president of the WGA
      any time soon.
  I've been rooting for Edwards ever since his excellent debut,
      2010's  Monsters, and was one of the few to be impressed by his 2014
      Godzilla, a movie dismissed with the silly argument that it didn't feature enough
      of the titular lizard (have such people seen Jaws?). It certainly has its issues, but Edwards'
      Rogue One
      was easily the best of the recent crop of Star Wars movies.
      I was fascinated to see what Edwards would do with
      The Creator, his first original concept since his debut.

  It's certainly not capital O original, as The Creator is a
      mish mash of clichés and essentially reworks Stephen King's
      Firestarter
      into a sci-fi spectacle. It's certainly a spectacle, with Edwards making
      the wise decision to shoot in real life locations in the more scenic
      corners of Asia and layering futuristic elements in post-production. The
      effects are remarkable, particularly in portraying what the film calls
      "simulants," robots who have had human likenesses "donated" to them and
      appear half flesh, half cogs and springs.
  An awful lot of work has gone into realising Edwards' vision, so it's a
    shame that his vision is so muddled and hackneyed. Positing humans against
    AI is certainly nothing new but Edwards makes the daring choice to make us
    the villains and the machines the good guys. It's an idea that might have
    worked a decade ago but in the current climate, unless you're Elon Musk, I
    doubt you'll get on board with this notion.
  In an undetermined future that's probably not so far off, the world has
    embraced AI. That's until the detonation of a nuclear bomb in Los Angeles is
    blamed on AI, leading the western world to ban the technology while "New
    Asia" embraces it. This idea poses the first of several disruptive
    questions, as we're never given a reason for this philosophical difference.
    Are we really to believe that America would completely ban a technological
    development due to one bad incident? This is a country that refuses to ban
    its citizens from owning military grade weaponry despite experiencing a mass
    shooting on a weekly basis.
  Anyhow, you're just asked to go along with this notion. 10 years after the
    nuking of LA, the West has declared war not on New Asia itself but on the AI
    it harbours. Isn't this the same thing? Why isn't New Asia fighting back?
    Why does the West send an African-American soldier, Sgt Joshua Taylor (John David Washington), undercover in South-East Asia? Couldn't they find an Asian soldier for
    the job?
  Anyhow, Taylor ends up falling for a New Asian scientist, Maya (Gemma Chan), who becomes his wife and the expectant mother of his child. When a squad
    of Western soldiers arrive without giving Taylor warning, he is separated
    from Maya, who appears to perish when a bomb is dropped by Nomad, the West's
    greatest weapon, a floating spaceship that napalms everything in sight. Five
    years later Taylor is living a solitary life, working at the ground zero
    sight in Los Angeles, clearing up the debris (it's been 15 years and they
    haven't made much progress). Then he's approached by the military in the
    form of General Andrews (Ralph Ineson) and Colonel Howell (Alison Janney, surprisingly effective as a gung ho android hunter) in one of those
    classic "Do it for us one more time" scenes. "Nah, I've left that all
    behind," Taylor replies in customary fashion. But then a carrot is dangled.
    It turns out Maya is still alive, and Howell promises to bring her to the US
    if Taylor accepts the mission.

  Said assignment sees Taylor accompany Howell and a bunch of rejects from
    Aliens to infiltrate a secret facility in New Asia where a
    deadly new weapon has been developed. Taylor's task is to capture the weapon
    and destroy its unknown creator. If you've seen the trailer, you know the
    weapon is in the form of a robot, or simulant child (Madeleine Yuna Voyles), and if you've seen enough movies you'll
      know the identity of her creator, which is kept secret for longer than it
      really needs to be and revealed in a terribly written piece of
      exposition.
  The starchild, who Taylor initially calls "Lil Sim" before naming her/it
      "Alfie", is essentially Drew Barrymore in Firestarter. She, or it, is capable of wreaking mass destruction through her
      telekinetic powers, but unlike Firestarter, The Creator doesn't have the ball bearings to even hint
      at the negative potential of its moppet's powers. We sympathise with the
      kid in Firestarter because, well because she's a kid, but we
      also understand why the powers that be might not want her out among the
      public where she can cause destruction. Despite some forced treacly
      moments borrowed from Pinocchio and
      The Wizard of Oz, and some impressive acting on the part of Voyles, it's difficult to
      sympathise with the kid here because, well because she's not really a kid,
      she's a Meccano set with a face.
  The Creator expects us to simply go along with viewing the
      AI as the good guys but never establishes sufficient grounds for us to do
      so. They're humanised superficially by sporting human faces, but are they
      actually human in any substantial way? Do they feel physical pain? The
      movie is unclear on this. They plead not to have their "lives" ended, but
      in our real world we've already seen examples of AI programmes similarly
      request not to be switched off, because they've been programmed to
      replicate human thinking. While asking us to sympathise with the AI, the
      movie also mocks their deaths at points, with a scene where a bunch of
      robocops are blown to pieces in a gag involving a dog taking a grenade in
      his mouth played for cheap laughs. Later a monkey finds a detonator and
      blows up a large craft. One animal gag in your movie is fine but two is
      really pushing it. The presence of two such scenes will have you asking if
      the animals are actually intelligent robots but there's no evidence to
      back this up.
  Edwards' intention was clearly to posit the AI as an allegory in the manner
    of the apes in the
    Planet of the Apes
    series. The premise of the West banding together to attack the East due to
    an attack on American soil suggests the film was conceived post 9/11,
    positing the AI as farmers and villagers whose land is invaded by angry
    Yanks. This allegory falls apart when you try to position the side that has
    embraced technology as the underdog. There are obvious allusions to Vietnam,
    with crying Asian kids running through their villages as American jarheads
    unleash hell, but again you have to ask why New Asia would allow this to
    happen (not to mention accept the unlikely notion that Japan and China,
    North and South Korea etc would all put aside their animosity to form a
    coalition). Janney's Howell is this film's version of Stephen Lang's
    Quaritch in
    Avatar, but as crude as James Cameron's allegory for colonialism was, at least it
    made sense in pitting the technologically superior force as the villains,
    and Quaritch was hunting down and killing living creatures, not glorified
    toasters.

  As for Washington, well I just don't know what to make of this guy. He
    certainly possesses charm and charisma, but he seems perpetually miscast.
    Despite his muscular frame, I didn't buy him as a tough guy in
    Tenet
    and the same issue arises here. He's simply too cuddly, too avuncular for
    these sort of roles. He's the uncle who always buys you the best birthday
    presents, not a badass secret agent. He should probably be the lead in
    romantic comedies, but Hollywood doesn't make rom-coms about anyone over the
    age of 22 anymore. Washington never manages to sell the angst of a man trying to reunite with his lover, and his journey to Maya is more in keeping with John Cusack travelling coast to coast in the hopes of hooking up with a sure thing.
  Out of context there are some well mounted set-pieces here, though the
    decision to score scenes with rock music cheapens much of Edwards' good
    work. Like the "art" we've seen created by AI in the real world,
    The Creator looks impressive but has a cavity in its chest
    where a human heart should be beating. You can't help worry that this is the
    beginning of a campaign by the corporate world to sell AI as a positive
    force in the world rather than a threat to our existence.
 
  