[Beware of Spoilers]
Morgan (2016) is the directorial debut of
Luke Scott, Ridley Scott’s son. Genre maestro Ridley Scott is the film’s
producer. These facts prove illuminating in terms of a deeper understanding of
this particular science fiction/horror film.
Where
other critics have made invidious comparisons between Morgan and Ex
Machina (2015), or Morgan and Splice (2010), the films
to discuss here are likely Blade Runner (1982) and Prometheus
(2012).
In
short, Morgan concerns mankind’s unease with his/her own creation: artificial people. That’s a recurring Scott theme; one you can
see through several of his genre master works (including Alien [1979]).
Whether
we choose to term these unusual beings replicants, synthetics, or hybrids is largely
immaterial. Nomenclature aside, they are children of humanity and yet, at the
same time, not fully human. And even though they are “made” by man
(specifically, corporations), man never quite trusts them, it seems.
In
fact, as Blade Runner, Prometheus and Morgan make plain, man deeply
and instinctively fears this brand of progeny. After completing the act of
creation, it seems, mankind stands seems ready to commit an act of destruction,
snuffing out that which he has given birth to.
In
one way or another, Blade Runner, Prometheus and Morgan all revolve around
mankind’s inability to accept his artificial child/creation as his own heir. In
all three films, man has played God, but doesn’t seem to want to parent.
In
all three films, parental figures also prove cold, emotionally unavailable, and
largely self-absorbed, leaving the (artificial) child without the guidance he or
she needs to mature adequately. In some circumstances, the children turn
violent towards their parents because of this “void” in parenting.
Morgan is a fascinating and compelling genre
film, but one made all the more so if the viewer weighs it as a crucial piece
of a multi-decade Scott cinematic trilogy concerning mankind and artificial
intelligence; an unofficial franchise dedicated to exploring the relationship between
man and a being who, finally, could -- one day -- replace man.
Ex
Machina was
terrific (as was Splice, actually…) but it’s almost a shame that Ex
Machina remains so close in the memory for so many. Some critics want
to hark back to that particular film to put down Morgan as somehow being
derivative or inferior. Instead, Morgan is merely the latest work of
art by producer Scott to explore the parental dynamic as it applies not to biology,
but an uncanny mixture of technology and biology.
These
films ask us, explicitly: can we love that which looks like us, but is not,
finally, a reflection of us, in terms of psychology?
Morgan reminds us that humanity cannot yet
see an artificial child (or replicant one) as truly belonging to him; and thus
truly possessing the same rights and privilege we reserve for ourselves and
fellow organic creatures.
Instead,
humanity views these beings as ones that we created, but which are less evolved,
somehow, than we are.
If
one gazes at Morgan is a prequel to Blade Runner and Prometheus,
the film veritably opens up as a subject of analysis, with scenes that resonate
beautifully across the “unofficial” Scott trilogy.
“Above
all, preserve the asset.”
After
a trademarked artificial/hybrid human – a
teenage girl named Morgan (Anya Taylor-Joy) -- attacks one of the
scientists caring for her, Dr. Greiff (Jennifer Jason-Leigh), an investigation commences.
A
no-nonsense risk assessment specialist, Lee Weathers (Kate Mara) is sent to
Morgan’s remote, countryside facility on behalf of the corporation, SECT, to determine
an appropriate course of action.
Lee’s
mission may prove to be one of containment, shutting down Morgan’s experiment,
or one of assassination, Dr. Greiff fears. Lee is noncommittal about her
ultimate course of action, choosing to interview the scientists and staff about
Morgan’s violent “temper tantrum.”
Another
specialist, Dr. Shapiro (Paul Giamitti) also arrives at the installation to
conduct a psychological evaluation of Morgan. He pushes her during that
evaluation, causing a repeat of her violent outburst…
“There
was joy in her heart before we shoved her back in that box.”
Ridley
Scott’s Blade Runner (1982) opens with a scene in which a law
enforcement official administers a test, Voight-Kampff, to a replicant. It is,
importantly, a psychological test.
And it provokes a murderous response on the part of that replicant.
The
central scene in Morgan deliberately reiterates this dynamic.
The
arrogant, imperious Shapiro -- another establishment figure, like the blade runner
-- tests the unstable artificial person, causing an explosive response by doing
so. In both cases, the forces of authority trigger the key weakness of the child-like
individual, a vulnerability based on psychology.
The replicants and Morgan don’t
“know themselves” and are unsure of “human”
matters, like friendship, social connection, family, and parents. In both cases, an attack on this psychological
weak link results in the artificial person resorting to physical violence.
The
scene in Morgan, however, plays like bullying. In Blade Runner, we are
shocked by the replicant’s resort to violence. In Morgan, we are shocked that
the artificial person holds back as long as she does.
Another
connection to Blade Runner is revealed only in Morgan’s final sequence.
Suffice it to say, Morgan gets the
ending that Ridley Scott had hoped to give to the 1982 film, but was not able
to, for reasons of commerce.
Specifically,
the hunter or prosecutor of the artificial person is revealed to be an
artificial person too. Once more, this revelation suggests two things:
psychological instability on the part of this new race (and child of man), but
also a second-class status for these people. They are assigned tasks no others
would want, including the prosecution (and assassination) of their own kind.
They have become murderous servants of man, killing their own brothers and
sisters.
Morgan becomes even more intriguing after
a second viewing, when one understands the film’s outcome, and watches how the
second artificial person navigates matters such as sexual attraction. On
retrospect, the responses are completely understandable, given a synthetic
person’s lack of understanding of or familiarity with human nature, and human
interaction.
As
for Morgan herself, she has much in common with both Roy Batty (Rutger Hauer)
and Prometheus’s
David (Michael Fassbender).
Like
Batty, Morgan possesses a survival instinct, and the inability to control bouts
of rage.
Like
David, she is both obsequious to her human “friends” and, simultaneously, able
to betray them for an agenda if necessary.
Like David, Morgan also surrounds herself with human things: human music
and art, in particular. If David has a
fondness for cinema, Morgan does for opera.
Blade
Runner, Prometheus,
and Morgan
also feature three amoral corporations (Tyrell, Weyland Industries, and
SECT), and three versions of “cold” parents.
In
Blade
Runner, Tyrell has given no consideration to his replicants, and the
fact that they might wish to outlive their four year life-span. He is a father
who has created life, but does not care about what happens to that life once it
is out in the world.
Weyland,
in Prometheus,
is not much better a father figure. He treats David like the “lesser” child in
his family, noting -- in public, no less -- that David possesses no soul. Also,
he ignores David’s search for meaning in life, in favor of his own search for
meaning. As the parent, Weyland puts his needs first, and expects David to put
those needs at the top of his list as well.
And
finally, we have the character that Morgan identifies as her mother, in Morgan:
Dr. Cheng (Michelle Yeoh). Dr. Cheng, in the past, has murdered her own “children”
(synthetic beings) when they became dangerous. When Morgan becomes dangerous
too, she falls back on the same behavior. She shows no emotion, no caring, when
she orders Morgan to be executed. In
fact, Cheng rejects Morgan completely, especially after Morgan has the audacity
to call her what she is: “Mother.”
The
three films in this unofficial trilogy all contend with one core idea: the
meaning of life. Is it any different for synthetic beings than it is for
organic ones?
Roy
Batty wants to outlive his termination date, so that the things he has seen --
the memories he has accumulated -- aren’t simply lost, like tears in rain.
David
wants to understand why he was created. And if he can understand why the
Engineers created mankind, he will be one step closer to his answer.
And
Morgan is learning to become herself, intriguingly, through her interfaces with
nature, in the wild. She rebels in the first place because her outside time, in
the woods, is taken away. She cannot feel the same freedom to explore herself
in the installation, apparently. Her closest friend is Amy (Rose Leslie), her “eco
therapist,” who introduces her to the larger world, beyond her cell.
All
three characters -- Batty, David, and Morgan – are very acutely on a journey of
self-discovery; of transcending their built-in limits. In all cases, they are
actually impeded by their creators/parents, who don’t seem to believe they are
unique, sentient life forms. Instead,
these adults would rather destroy them for making a mistake than help them learn
from that mistake.
Batty
and Morgan, at least, don’t get second chances. They step out of their “role”
and are hunted and exterminated.
In
some senses, the theme of Morgan is similar indeed to that
which we saw in Splice. Basically, it goes like this: we are ultimately treated by our children in the same manner that we
treat them.
I
feel that this too is a lesson, overall of the unofficial Scott trilogy. It is
clear that corporations like Tyrell, Weyland and SECT will create artificial
life, and trademark it. As they do so, they will also attempt to abrogate the
rights of those they have created, either with mandatory termination dates, or
through behavior which renders them second class citizen, and subject, finally,
to bigotry. In Morgan, Lee notes on at least two occasions that Morgan is not
a “she” and but rather the property of the corporation, lacking human rights.
The
“children” in these cases are all treated badly, and -- surprise, surprise --
treat their parents badly as a result.
They learn from their relationships with their parents how to be
duplicitous, how to be violent, how to kill.
Morgan is a coming of age story for a synthetic
person (or persons, in the final analysis). Morgan’s uncertainty and
instability mirrors some of the uncertainty and instability that human
adolescents feel as they take the final steps before “growing up.” This is significant, because everything about
Morgan -- from her attire (hoodie, especially) to her attitude -- is familiar.
She is the rebellious child/teen, testing the limits of the world around her.
Technically, Morgan is an accomplished
work. The film features fine performances, especially from Kate Mara, and is
suspenseful, and exciting. You may figure out the final twist in the film
before it is revealed, but it doesn’t take way from the action, or horror. Luke Scott does a great job using visual rhetoric, conveying through imagery the point of the narrative. He does much here with reflections, and Lee and Morgan balanced against one another in the frame, mirror-images.
But Morgan succeeds best, I
would argue, when one places it in the context of its sister films, Blade
Runner and Prometheus.
All these films remind us to treat
our (eventual) artificial children with a sense of responsibility but also humility.
As J.F. Sebastian would no doubt
remind us, there’s much of us in them.
I somewhat disagree, preferring an interpretation of explorations on what it means to be human, rather than artificial humanity (something explored since R.U.R, at least).
ReplyDeleteUsing artificial humans allows the other side of the equation to be explored. We >know< that it's wrong to treat actual humans in the ways they get treated in these films. But if they are artificial, we can more fully explore the actions of their human creators, as well as their own searches for humanity.