Many of you, and I myself, will feel the need to answer this statement right away with: But isn't that just what life is about for everyone? Men and all creatures alive are just as much victims of the threats mentioned above. The men go to war, for one thing, where they might escape harassment, but certainly will face both mutilation and violent death. Why put the word sexual in front of oppression that threatens us all? Shouldn't we try and find ways to escape together, men and women as well as all creatures alike?
OK, we can go down that road, but not this time. I am thinking of Alex Garland's Ex Machina. It's a beautiful film. It's the kind of film that will stay with me for a long time, and rewind itself in my memory, reworking my thoughts on it and reshaping itself, as time goes by. I only wish I had seen it on the big screen - but for reasons unknown it never reached the cinemas in my country Sweden.
It's a story of a modern Frankenstein - or a modern Bluebeard. Or both.
So he builds women. And he keeps them in lonely house out in the wilderness. He has a Japanese sex toy slash house keeper - her name is Kyoko. And he has a guest - a man hand picked from civilization - who comes there thinking he won a competition. And the prize is to meet the most ultra modern thing: a robot shaped as a lovely young woman. Her name is Ava.
The test - the Turing test - is the films's MacGuffin. The two men talk about it as a test of whether Ava is a conscious robot or not, whether she has feelings, wheteher she can manipulate men... But who cares what the out come of the test is? Of course she can do all those things. Of course she can feel, think and plan ahead. And of course she can fool both of them.
The charm of this film is how it builds on all the stories in Western culture about man and woman, man trying to play God and the creature running amok, man being punished for his vanity. The interesting thing here, is how Frankenstein meets Bluebeard - and how he, the master mind, the genius, the creator of AI, in the end looks like just another pervert, a man who hates women so much he has to keep them locked up.
There are a lot of doors and windows in this film. The first time we meet Ava, through the eyes of the male guest, is also through a window pane. She is locked up in a large glass cage, like an animal in a zoo. And the test that is to be performed will have to take place with a glass wall between them. It reminds me of the glass between Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling. There, in The Silence of the Lambs - the glass made sense, but here, why does Ava have to be locked up?
Her name is Ava, and of course it is in honour of Ava Gardner, the beautiful movie star. In a way it's very clever. Ava was a movie star, but what was she really? In her films she always seemed unreal, an angel or a godess who just happened to get caught in front of a camera. Ava Gardner was also a public figure, someone who was made to sell magazines and cover stories. In those stories she was never the struggling artist, a rebel or a feminist. Not even when she told her own story, in her memoirs, did she let us know anything that we didn't already know: that she was a Southern belle who got lucky and liked to party.
In Ex Machina, Alex Garland and Alicia Vikander imagine another fate for Ava, the perfect unreal woman. In the end, when the guest opens all the hidden doors and discovers all the women before Ava, we get to understand why, in the beginning, there was a glass with a great crack in it. One of them tried to get away and failed. Ava will be the one who will succeed.
So how does Bluebeard's wife get out of the castle? How does the mad woman in the attic - or the bunker - get away? She uses her power over men: her beauty, her allure and mystical appearance - and her intelligence. And how does she do it? She talks to the man, the male guest, and she plants doubt in his mind.
Doubt is something that both men can't handle: Bluebeard drinks himself into a constant stupor, and takes the knife in the back and heart as if he were expecting it. The guest transforms his doubt into the action that will liberate Ava. The beauty of the story is that the doubt will linger on after she is gone: Why didn't she save Kyoko or the guest? Did she really need the guest? Couldn't she have unlocked the doors of her prison by herself, considering that she orchestrated the power cuts in the bunker?
But those questions are not important.
What is interesting is how Alicia Vikander changes in the film, from a prisoner in a half finished body in a place that looks like a space ship, to a woman in a white dress and long brown hair, very confident of herself, entering reality. In the beginning, she looks like a hesitant deer, stepping quietly into a clearing. Or she sits on the floor, very subordinate and obeying. In the end, after the story has followed its predictable, but none the less fascinating path, she enters the green wilderness like an actress on stage, determined and in awe of the magic she is capable of. Who is Ava? Does it matter? She is a force of her own, a force that will endure.
And that is important. That is what I believe make this film so alluring - and why women will continue to use their beauty and their sexual power in order to trick their prison guards and get away. And why they will continue to do so, in the name of all those who can't.
"All that being said, depending on the reading of this film, it may be one of the most feminist films I’ve seen in theaters in years. "