ARTICLES
May 2003 ARTICLES
Contents © 2003
by Jim Holman.
All rights reserved.
Precious, Shallow, Patently Ridiculous
Artificial Intelligence in the Archdiocese
By F. Michael Forrester
While parishes across the archdiocese struggled to persuade parishioners to attend their respective Lenten programs, the archdiocesan newspaper -- the Tidings -- was plugging just one of them, the series, "Soup at Six, Cinema at Ceven" [sic], held at Holy Family church, South Pasadena.
Dedicating one full page for seven weeks running (beginning in March), the Tidings encouraged its readers to attend the "Cinema at Ceven" series that would be lead by Capuchin Franciscan Father Tony Scannell. Most of these articles were written by Father Scannell himself. No stranger to the movies, Father Scannell was the former president of Franciscan Communications and is now serving in the archdiocesan office of telecommunications.
The Cinema at Ceven series was loosely based on the book LIGHTS, CAMERA... FAITH! A Movie Lover's Guide to Scripture and a Movie Lectionary by Peter Malone and Rose Pacatte. In the book, there are interesting pairings of feasts with films, among them: Mary, Mother of God with Terminator 2, and the Ascension with Mission to Mars.
The purpose of these Friday evenings, according to the Tidings articles, was "to dialogue with the Lenten Scriptures, using a film as the 'parable' or illustration of the Sunday themes." Encouraging prospective attendees to "view the complete videos privately before or after the sessions," as there wouldn't be time during the sessions to watch the whole movie, the Tidings added that some of the films would be, "inappropriate for children."
The only thing more peculiar than the interest of the archdiocesan newspaper in this Friday series was the list, chosen by Father Scannell, of films to be shown. In its article for the first Sunday of Lent, the Tidings announced Father Scannell's first choice of a movie that would be a "parable" for that Sunday's Gospel: the film Chocolat.
The choice of Chocolat was strange on many accounts, not least because of the controversy at the time of its release, which is best highlighted by the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops review of the film. "Unpalatable fable," the review reads, "set during the late 1950s in which a single mother arrives at a provincial French village to open an enticing chocolate shop during Lent, causing bitterness and opposition from the townsfolk tempted by her rich confections during a season of penance. The film insults with its disingenuous rallying cry for tolerance while it mocks faith traditions, religious tenets and Catholic sacraments. Brief violence, a sexual encounter with shadowy nudity, an instance of profanity and fleeting crass language. The U.S. Catholic Conference classification is (O) -- morally offensive. -- parents are strongly cautioned." An odd choice for a Friday series in Lent.
The Tidings, however, offered it's own interpretation. Quoting Ralph Sariego, the president of Catholic in Media Associates, with whom the Friday series was done, the Tidings wrote, "Chocolat is a complex and layered film that needs to be carefully unpacked." The single mother's chocolate shop (which, according to the U.S. bishops' caused "bitterness and opposition"), according to the Tidings, offered "liquid and solid chocolate that heals, frees, and liberates the townspeople." Recklessly divergent from the U.S. bishops, the Tidings went on: "[the mother], accompanied by her young daughter, is an obvious free spirit and, to Christians, an obvious Christ figure as she dispenses food and drink in the form of life-transforming chocolate candy and beverage reminiscent of the body and blood of Christ."
For those that could not attend the March 7 showing to see how this film was a parable for Luke 5:27-32 (Jesus eats with tax collectors), the Tidings offered four other special showings around the diocese, from Culver City down to Malibu.
The second of Father Scannell's choices announced in the Tidings the following week was the film Billy Elliott. Due to some "homosexual innuendo and fleeting profanity with recurring rough language," the U.S. bishops' classification for this film is A-III (adults); the Motion Picture Association of America rating is R (restricted). In the Tidings spread, one of the articles written by Father Scannell, the reader was given a full explanation as to how Billy Elliott would help us "dialogue with the Lenten Gospels." "The Gospel story of Jesus' transfiguration (Mark 9: 2-10)," wrote Scannell, "is a striking image of that transforming power each of us has from within. So is the story of Billy Elliot, son of a striking coal miner in England, who has a burning desire in him to dance, to burst out of the heavy expectations of his family and town, and find the freedom and delight in the dance.
"For Billy, dancing is what electrifies him, transfigures him as the spirit within him charges his body with alternating current. As we see Billy's struggle and determination, the story can strengthen us to continue our Lenten journey to break out of the limitations we may have placed on our hopes and dreams, and be transfigured, transformed from within."
The Gospel for the fourth Sunday of Lent was to be explicated by the movie Artificial Intelligence, or A.I. Perhaps a sign of the ailing circulation of the Tidings, just over a handful of people attended the showing. By way of small comfort, the only controversy known surrounding this film was how dreadful it was. Despite being a creation of the highly successful director Steven Spielberg, it was a box-office flop, receiving scathing reviews from east coast to west. Mick LaSalle of the San Francisco Chronicle commented, "without going into detail, the most vicious parodist of Spielberg could not devise anything more precious, more shallow or more patently ridiculous. It's almost worth seeing just to see how bad it is. Almost." Peter Travers, of Rolling Stone magazine, commented that it is a film "freighted with clunky exposition, windbag moralizing and thumping self-importance" and that even "E.T./The Extra-Terrestrial would phone home for a rescue crew if he heard such bilge." Our own archbishop's more merciful comment was that A.I.'s interesting theme was "underdeveloped."
Therefore, while parishioners across the archdiocese began Stations of the Cross, those that came to Holy Family the Friday before the fourth Sunday of Lent, including myself, watched the film A.I.
The film begins in the year 2050. Polar ice caps are melting (global warming), causing many of the world's cities to be half-submerged. Very life-like robots have already been developed and are preferred to humans, who consume the limited natural resources remaining. Childbearing is strictly regulated, and in the yearnings of childless couples Professor Hobby sees an opportunity: artificial children, programmed to love like the real thing. Hobby's prototype, David, is tested on Henry and Monica Swinton whose terminally ill son, Martin, lies in cryogenic deep-freeze awaiting a cure. Then a miracle brings disaster in its wake: Martin is cured and comes home, but his intense jealousy of David results in one boy having to go. Rather than return David to be destroyed, Monica lets him loose in the woods. David, uncomprehending, turns to the tale of Pinocchio and reasons if he can somehow become a real boy, Monica will let him come home. This domestic side of the story is then dropped, and the film becomes a futuristic Pinocchio, in which David roams a hostile landscape looking for a blue fairy to make him into a real boy. At the end of the movie, he dives into the murky waters where much of Manhattan has sunk He finds the blue fairy in a Pinocchio amusement park and sits before her for 2,000 years asking her to make him a real boy. At the end of the 2,000 years, he is discovered by aliens who are able to grant him his wish of re-uniting him with his "mother" -- Monica, but, sadly, only for a day.
After the showing, the lights were turned on, and Father Scannell began to ask questions. According to Scannell, A.I. is about "much more than artificial intelligence. It is about artificial relationships and artificial love." It makes us think, according to Father Scannell, about the readings for the Fourth Sunday of Lent. In that Sunday's Gospel, Jesus tells Nicodemus: "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish, but might have eternal life." "In A.I.," explained Father Scannell, "a professor wants to create a lifelike mechanical robot, David, who is always loving, and who can bring love to a couple whose son Martin is in a coma." But, Father Scannell sort of continued to explain, "just as in the Gospel, when 'light' comes into the world, people prefer darkness to light, Martin is revived and becomes jealous of the robot-boy, leading to David being abandoned into the darkness by the parents. But David, inspired by the Pinocchio story he overheard Monica reading to Martin, and wanting to become a real human boy capable of being loved by his mother, keeps surviving and seeking the Blue Fairy to make him human." It was clear that whatever angle Father Scannell was trying to get at, it was utterly unclear to his audience.
Using a different tactic, Father Scannell probed for participation from the audience, asking such questions as: does the film suggest that in the future humans will become so dehumanized that we will need robots "for love, affection, and simulated family relationships? How does Jesus suggest to Nicodemus that we face this problem?" "What does our society today say about the nature and dignity of the human person? What does our faith say? What does war say?"
Many of the participating audience picked up on this last question, namely that of the conflict in Iraq. A long discussion of how the United States "dehumanizes" the enemy, making them like "robots," followed.
Father Scannell wrapped up the evening events by reassuring us that A.I. was just a fairy tale. "It's a fairy tale," said Father Scannell, "so there will be many interpretations. Take from it what you want, what you need. Essentially, I think it teaches us all to search for our dream, even if it's not attainable."