Steven Spielberg’s
“A.I.: Artificial Intelligence” is a
train wreck masterpiece I love all the more because it derails, because the guy
who some critics continuously dismiss aims for the sun and misses, but comes oh
so close. And leaves us stunned, too. Spielberg could coast on every film he
makes. In “A.I..,” he spins wild chances and smashes down a scene midway
through so devastating, it leaves one reeling flat, near in tears.
Inspired by
“Pinocchio” and a screenplay by Stanley Kubrick –- a master of cold dread –- Spielberg’s tale follows a humanoid boy (Haley Joel Osment) adopted by a couple
(Sam Robards and Frances O’Connor) whose own son lies in a coma. Young, perfect
David is a little boy balm until the “real” son Martin (Jake Thomas) reawakens.
David is programmed to be loved. Martin wants to mommy to himself. Two events
paint David as a family danger, and so mommy –- here’s the killer scene -–
abandons David in a forest; she weeps, David begs, and Spielberg lays bare every
child’s worst nightmare: Your parents do not truly love you, you are a fake.
From
there, the film flies high and nose dives hard as David falls into a nightmare
world that involves grisly robot gladiator arenas, needless voice cameos (Chris
Rock? Robin Williams?), and a search for the Blue Fairy to make David a “real”
boy, just like … Martin?
I won’t spoil more. Much of it works and a good bit
does not as Spielberg takes on The End of the World, but really is pulling out the
end of childhood innocence, that blind-faith moment when children firmly
believe mommy and daddy are good, and will always be there, keeping you -- all
that matters in the world –- safe. Which is more tragic?
Osment is so amazing. I still bristle he did
not get a Best Actor nomination. Unnaturally warm and bright, unblinking,
desperate to please, and able to regurgitate a call, he is flawless, yet
unmistakably eerie. Early in, tricked by Martin into cutting their mother’s
hair, David pleads, “I just wanted mommy to love me. More.” That quick pause,
before the word “more,” is true horror for the youngest of us, scarier than any
death in “Jaws.”
Speaking of that classic Spielberg film, John Williams
provides the score here and it’s truly one of his best, and with certain beats
recalling the wonder of “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” A-
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