The Future Belongs Entirely to the Cataclysm
By Eduardo Del Llano (Joven Cuba)
HAVANA TIMES – There’s quite a widespread idea that science fiction is set on guessing what will come in the future. Jules Verne and H.G. Wells often got it right, at least along the general lines, predicting technological breakthroughs and events that seem ordinary now. Other authors, such as Isaac Asimov, only managed to get one thing right even with the vast volume (and quality) of his work.
But the truth is that this isn’t what science fiction is about. Watching the coordinates of the future is irrelevant and doesn’t prove anything; the thing that interests writers is being able to travel to the future (or another planet, alternative universe etc.), conflicts and trends that can already be seen in the present and show us where we could end up. Synthesizing these trends and taking them to the point where they may seem an exaggeration but still possible. No science fiction story is as fantastic when it comes to everyday reality; none of them refrain from digging into the dark corners of society, into the complex algorithms of the human soul. Uff, Goethe is suffering…
Well, it’s easier to understand from this point of view why there are so many dystopian stories recently, as well as post-apocalyptic settings. No matter how Panglossian you may be, at this point in time, almost nobody doubts the world is going to be fucked up soon, even if we don’t agree on when and how this is going to happen.
The French-Belgian-Lithuanian movie Vesper (2022), by Kristina Buozyte and Bruno Samper, and the British-U.S. production The creator (2023) by Gareth Edwards are two recent movies that each present their version of the future, each more dismal. In the first movie, the Earth’s ecosystem has gone crazy, fed up of being abused, but not even then do humans learn how to peacefully coexist: scarce resources are controlled by a caste that has even genetically manipulated the seeds of edible plants, so that the unfortunate who don’t prosper in their fortresses in ruins lack means to survive. Vesper is a girl who has to look after her injured and humiliated father and look for food every day; she also has a sinister uncle, a kind of gangster who traffics children’s blood. At first glance, it’s hard to think of something more delicate than her. Her strength is that she knows the forest and its animals better than anyone else; so much so, that she creates some new species in her makeshift lab…
Without Hollywood’s enormous budgets, Vesper stands with authenticity and elegance. For starters, the design of the future world is exquisite even in the smallest of details: if animals have become mere legends, flora undergoes spectacular mutations (there is a plant that shoots out its seeds, like bullets, at snoopers. You’re not overloaded with digital effects, they rather form part of the narration as they should. Sometimes violent, not too much by the looks of it because of what it hides, the movie nonetheless offers a way forward via humanity and kindness, and not through more violence, as many other similar movies propose.
Can we get to such a future? Absolutely. Damage inflicted to Nature and the climate of our damned little blue marble in the solar system is in some ways irreversible. Do the warnings do us any good? Everything seems to indicate they don’t, but this isn’t a reason to give up on doing it.
The creator depicts a world that isn’t exactly our own, because robots in it have been widely used for decades, in factories and homes (which brings us to the Asimov’s nightmare, or to be more exact, Asimov’s characters: citizens are afraid of the androids, despite them having integrated the Three Laws of Robotics – a term that was invented by the writer by the way – which is being used to explore and mine on other planets. Anyway, because the Humanity of British man Edwards wasn’t afraid of them, in fact, they sparked an atomic explosion in Los Angeles, and then the Government decreed Artificial Intelligence to be wiped out. Everybody obeys, except for south-east Asia… and that’s when the good U.S. commando goes to enforce their law on these disobedient farmers.
I’m guessing everyone’s seen the meme that shows how aliens see our planet; that is, the US as a great big island in the middle of the Earth’s ocean. The creator doesn’t break away from this tradition: everything is ambiguous land outside the US, which seems to have been taken from a documentary on the Vietnam War. There go the yankees to save us… but of course, it turns out that the androids weren’t all bad, and there is a charming girl, a tender girl-robot even when she’s whining, and the brave guy in the movie becomes infatuated with her and switches sides. He then protects the machines against the fierce humans. The moral at the end of the story is that we should learn how to live with Artificial Intelligence. Or that if you’re the hero, you can betray your people. Or that if the robots had been ugly, they would have deserved to have died.
Edwards’ movie has been received well by audiences and critics alike. I don’t think it’s that great, it’s visually impressive but full of overused situations, of dramatic stereotypes. However, the important thing is that it stands up for AI, which has invaded our lives and is already raising suspicions. Is it insane to be afraid of robots standing up to us one day and beating us? Is it the same old fear we had for Golem, Frankenstein, the senseless distrust described by Asimov? Or is it a real concern given the possibility that we might be digging our own grave?
If Vesper foresees an eco and climate catastrophe, The creator tells us about a future where we’re living with self-aware, sensitive machines who fear death. Beyond the artistic values of one piece or another, there are two possible – probable? -outcomes for our civilization. There could be more (world wars, pandemics, meteorites, etc.); in any case, it’s becoming more and more clear that it isn’t a question of us saving ourselves or not, but rather who will have the honor of exterminating us.
Anyone want to make a bet?