IN 1970, a Japanese roboticist named Masahiro Mori suggested a theory by which to explain a particular anomaly regarding human empathic response to increasingly “humanlike” robots. Mori observed that as a robot’s appearance and movements grow increasingly lifelike and human, the more a person is likely to respond to said ‘bot with amplified feelings of empathy and comfort. Strangely, this relative comfort curve drops off rather dramatically beyond a certain point, however—a point at which the human response makes an alarming about-face from compassion and ease to disgust, fear, and repulsion. This disturbing dip—the so-called “uncanny valley” that exists between adorable humanoid and actual humanity—has in recent years come to some prominence as a primary focus of the film industry’s increasing reliance on creepy CG actors. It’s also the place (I suspect it’s located somewhere outside of San Jose) where Robert Zemeckis has apparently built the holographic mansion that he plans to die in.
Over the course of his last three films—2004’s The Polar Express, 2007’s Beowulf, and now his indefensible adaptation of A Christmas Carol—Zemeckis has single-handedly cartographed the depths of the uncanny valley with Shackletonian heroism, selflessly sacrificing his admittedly modest reputation and what must be the whole of his dignity for the betterment of a digital people unable to feel, let alone express, gratitude. His weirdly persistent reliance on motion capture technology has afforded us with some of the most spectacularly troubling digital representations of the uncanny valley known to man—and never have they seemed so superfluous as in A Christmas Carol.
Yes, the very same Charles Dickens affair that’s been filmed seemingly hundreds of times, for literally a hundred years—and has done so rather effectively without the benefit of 3D glasses or a creepy CG Jim Carrey phoning it in. This and its masturbatory, tremendously self-satisfied render-porn sequences are really the only ammunition that A Christmas Carol offers to justify its existence—but it’s a redundancy that might have been excusable on its own, were the film not so relentlessly unpleasant to look at. As it stands, A Christmas Carol walks right past the threshold of “was this really necessary?”—setting its suitcase down in Zemeckis’ holographic pool house, and patiently plotting for the day when the creepy digi-people eventually destroy us all.
Anyone with half a brain knows that this film is going to be complete garbage. 99.9% of films made today are for the sole purpose of profit rather than art. This is no different. Glad you wasted two hours of your time watching this thing so you could write the review. And get off Zemeckis’ back, he directed Forrest Gump and the Back to The Future trilogy, what have you done?
@MucinexD
You’re bitching about how films are all about profit over art, and then go on to defend Zemekis of all people? Ah, yes, Forrest Gump and Back to the Future! What untouchable masterpieces of artistic expression! Only a true visionary could have created such un-commercial, yet so very personal, work. How dare a film critic criticize such an artist. He should go home, listen to Huey Lewis and the News, and think about what he’s done. For shame!
@Marq I LOLed.
MarQ, I know Zemeckis’ isn’t some artistic genius, it was meant as a stab at our writer from the article above. Good lord.
Sarcasm: a mode of satirical wit depending for its effect on bitter, caustic, and often ironic language that is usually directed against an individual.
I doubt many people will agree with the assessment of this writer. This rendition of the story brings London to life even more than you would imagine. It is a far more interesting version of the overdone story. Once you have seen a live /human acted production, every other version seems nearly the same. This version, however, tells the same story but adds quite a bit of creative interpretation that makes the story compelling and the experience engaging.
Art is subjective and you didn’t like it…too bad. Those of us who value creativity can experience the intention of the artist and this movie is full of things to experience — it’s not limited by human actors or real venues. The textures of skin and hair were wonderful, sure, while some of the other “humanoid” aspects were a little lacking. But go see this movie for the unexpected moments that Zemeckis added. And do yourself a favor and see it in 3D. Sure, that’s gadgety, but again, you won’t regret it.
It’s a wonderfully fun piece of art that tells a story most folks are _done_ with hearing. Delivering it in a fresh, interesting way ensures more people will see it and be reminded to think of others. Except for the author of the article, and perhaps MucinexD, who completely missed that point.