Saturday, October 23, 2010

Machine not

«What is it that makes us human? It isn't something you can program. You can't put it into a chip. It's the strength of the human heart, the difference between us and machines».
Marcus Wright - Sam Worthington - Terminator Salvation (2009)

There are those who would disagree with the above statement, claiming that humanity can be quantified, can be measured and defined like a chemical solution in a dish. Most people calling themselves scientists would make that claim without hesitation.

Such an approach to humanity, to life itself is certainly one major flaw with science in general.

One of several disastrous results of such a horrible outlook is the society civilization and its advanced technology has created. The society previous humanity has made, current humanity is making is a Machine, and humanity is its nuts and bolts and wheels, one where many scientists and techno-freaks speak about artificial intelligence being potentially superior to mankind’s, where people like Hans Moravec boast about their desire to download human consciousness into a machine and brag about its advantages.

What follows is my review on the movie Terminator Salvation and related subjects, translated and expanded from my original Norwegian article:

I watched the film for the second time tonight, re-experiencing the greatness, the experience further enhanced in my mind, one motion picture many professional reviewers have called «painfully bad».

The film is a masterpiece from the first to the last frame. There is something about the Terminator movies bringing out greatness in everybody working with them.

John Connor has been played by at least four people. Three directors and several writers have contributed to the story. Quality remains high throughout the series. All four films are up there with the very best. They say so very much about fate and what it means to be human, and are rare gems of deep, intense action-films.

Before each new installment I have been pretty much without high expectations. I don’t know quite why that is, but I guess I have feared that it would be impossible to repeat past greatness. Each and every time I have been beyond pleasantly surprised. There is something about the theme and story that obviously bring out the best in the various crews working on the films. One can see and sense, easily notice how thorough they are.

We’re finally watching John Connor, humanity’s «leader» in the war against the machines, follow him in the future, a part of the story we believed we would never be told. We know a few things about what happens, about what must happen, before the film starts, but the excitement and tension is still high, in spite of that. Connor is no longer absolutely necessary for the war against the machines to continue. Kyle Reese is, but not John Connor. And we’re kept on the edge of our seat to the final frame. The story is about Man and Machine, literally. In a time where humans become ever more organic machines, robots, puppets hardly doing anything but dance in strings a film like this is increasingly valuable. Marcus Wright says that humans can’t be programmed. I don’t know if I share his optimistic view there, but what’s certainly true is that not everybody can be. The fire burning within all humans cannot be extinguished.

Reviewers are, as I often say the art community’s parasites. They have no true function. They have no true knowledge of film, what is great film, or rather: don’t have any better knowledge than most people and far inferior compared to those of us burning for a great story, an experience beyond description inside and outside the theater or living room. Reviewers state their ignorant view and present it as a bible of what movies (books, music, art in general) are supposed to be.

In a strange and startling and very telling way they remind me of scientists. Both groups are beyond eager to classify, define everything. If they can’t label stuff, they grow very cranky and self-serving, and even desperate and yes, dangerous.

I’ve always made sure to watch movies slaughtered by reviewers and they have, practically without exception shown themselves to be great films.

That these people are paid to publish their shit is absolutely incredible.

You’ve just read one man’s opinion.

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