Ava. The One I Fell In Love With.

Rating: 7/10 (4 June 2015)

Ava. The first thing, although only remotely related, is Wall-E's best and only friend Eva, who happened to be smart, sensual, and lovable. You could just apply that to Ava, except for the animations, of course. Alex Garland's Ava is a most up-to-date AI-work—something that has never before been brought into existentialism; something that isn't Hotshot, Optimus Prime, or Megatron, neither Atom, Robocop, or Chappie, nor Eva or Wall-E for that matter—not just in Hollywood (not the case with materialists,) but also in consciousness of human minds. It's a message to people of the need for sentiments, conscience, and vulnerability (you just get rigid without it.)
Ava's Nathan Jones single-handed product of AI. She bears most elements of human interactive philosophies; plus, she's elegant, gorgeous, and "polite." But to publicize her—the breathtaking innovation—she needs to go through a test, conducted apparently by a randomly chosen employee of Nathan Jones—Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson; awesome guy; loved him in About Time)—who'll suggest if she's good enough or not. Turns out, Ava's colloquial, and her mother-of-Siri interface nearly knocks him over; sorry, really knocks him over. The guy's practically in love with her, and so am I. These scientific and romantic sessions turn controversial with certain revelations about the "Lone Ranger" of this AI pursuit—Nathan Jones, who is otherwise a working-out, festive, cocky, and egocentric character—and Caleb is drenched into a challenge; he can complete the test and move on, or give zero f*cks about it, and help Ava and himself out. His "algebra of infinite justice" takes innumerable turns here, there, and everywhere; things go awry, and he's left with enigmas per enigmas per enigmas. He appears to be caught—both physically and emotionally—and ultimately "somebody" wins. As for the audience, this win delivers one thing—play-acting is a b*tch!
Alex Garland promulgates a rather mainstream concept with aberrant, and believable strokes of visuals. While his directorial debut lacks finesse,—peeling of the skin, for instance, is disgustingly unbelievable, and really brings the whole experience down—the fundamental structure is worth experiencing. The sensual touch to a robotic-industry is usually uncalled for, and raises questions of realism. But here, it's different. Although his earlier scripts reflect drafts of a similar grip and tendency, this one clicks to the heart, and you really wish for the love-conundrum to undo and converge to happiness—corporeal attachment of 26-year old Caleb, and "1" Ava—but as the yarn delivers, that's only "I'd like to think so." And that's something I really loved about the concept—it's not the traditional, clichéd "happy ending;" it's as close to a true AI as AI could be.
Nathan's suggestions to Caleb were after all sensible—she could be manipulating as a means of escape, or she might genuinely be in love with him. Turns out, AI is something beyond human comprehension; it doesn't matter if you're god (which Nathan liked to think so,) because AI can kill its creator. So in a way, Alex suggests a similar argument—AI takeover.
Ex Machina is a conscientious revelation of acts, counter-acts, tensions, challenges, misperception, misjudgments, misrepresentations, manipulations, unbounded arousal of feelings, and redemption. Its somewhat flawed execution still suffices for its motive. For instance, her ride to self-governance in the helicopter, while no one verified her identity, is rather misleading. I've already discussed the peeling-of-skin part. Similarly, Alicia Vikander's gait in the last part was unsuitable. Despite everything, she's still a robot, and must have followed her original gait, even after the transformation. Moreover, Kyoko's character development utterly lacks. She has no real point of existing until the very end. Initially, I thought Nathan's mistaken about her not understanding English at all—she might be a spy; everything pointed out to it. But since it was his directorial debut, he's bound to be a little off beam. And because it's the faithful, poignant, and humanlike interaction everybody's primarily interested in, these faults could be ignored.
In particular, Ex Machina is an underdeveloped manifestation of a fragile, sensitive, psychologically demeaning, and pondering-over notion. However, despite all the fluctuations of Mr. Dredd, his Ava alone rules out everything and everyone else. And when she says, "Do you want to be with me?" it's you who says, "Forever."