Tag Archives: AI

Is AI art Art? Who cares.

by

0

As someone who works and recreates in the Arts, I have struggled to make sense of the current conversations about the roles or sins of artificial intelligence in the creative arts, however you might personally define those.

Like many in my fields, I have worried that AI tools were going to pick my pocket or put me out of work. And I have worried about the dumbing down, the dilution, the commoditization of the Arts.

What a load of egotistical bollocks on my part!

As I said, I work and play in the creative arts. For me, that involves writing pretty much anything that can be written, live storytelling, and improvisation, and I dabble in filmmaking, drawing, and even singing. And I consume most of the creative arts in one way or another.

But is any of this Art, deserving of the capital A? I’m not sure that I care.

I enjoy what I enjoy and don’t what I don’t. I hope the same is true for you. If our choices overlap, great. If our choices completely conflict, great. I am just happy you have found things that make you happy.

At the risk of offending the artists I follow, I suspect that The Establishment – that mysterious arbiter of acceptable tastes – would call most of what I like pedestrian – as if there’s something wrong with walking – or outright trash.

I read thrillers and Shakespeare. I follow and own prints and paintings by street artists. I love The Three Stooges and The Flying Circus. And my musical tastes range from Gregorian Chants and Bizet to The Monkees and Ray Stevens (YouTube “The Streak”).

For its part, can anything I create be described as Art? Again, I am not sure that I care about the uppercase A or that I am truly in a place to judge.

Some of my writing has been brilliant, says me and, on occasion, others. Most of my writing has been serviceable, passable, or utilitarian. And quite a bit of my writing has been weak, bad or downright embarrassing. (I leave your opinions of this piece to you.)

I enjoy my live storytelling and improv, but not every story or set comes off or is received as I might hope. The same is true for my other artistic efforts.

And most of the planet’s population will never experience any of it. (Thank you for experiencing this.)

So, what does my creative resume have to do with AI?

Two things: One, the concept of “big A” Art is hubris of the highest order and exclusionary. And two, the artistic merit of anything is a personal decision rather than something with tangible metrics.

Art evolves with every passing generation because tastes evolve with every passing generation. In some ways, Mozart was the Ray Stevens of his era and The Abduction from the Seraglio is his Gitarzan, a piece of music considered frivolous by “those who know” and yet highly successful in its time.

Charles Dickens and Arthur Conan Doyle were newspaper serialists long before their works were considered classic literature. And most famous crime and science fiction writers published chapbooks – aka “cheap” books or pulp fiction – before they became known as Masters of their genres.

AI, like the printing press, is simply a tool that facilitates the production of creative arts on a scale not previously imaginable. Whether the output of that production is “good” rests soundly in the eyes and ears of the beholders, just as communities once warned of the sins of comic books and English translations of The Bible.

I do not actively use AI tools in my creative arts – I even avoid the AI results of a Google search – not because I think AI is evil but because I have not found a use-case for AI. The typical reasons most use AI, it seems, actually serve to replace the steps that I find make my creative artistry most enjoyable.

That said, I appreciate that not everyone thrills at the sight of a blank page like I do. Not everyone has the same confidence in their passions or themselves that I have developed. I meet many of these people when I teach a screenwriting class or improvised writing workshop. And I personally know the hesitation of self-doubt in attempting creative arts I consider outside my natural skillset.

If AI tools serve as a gateway for self-expression for these souls, I am all for it, and I will support and encourage them just as I would support and encourage those who choose to experiment and risk failure under their own steam.

And if AI tools are used to mass-produce materials – aka Content – to be consumed by the seemingly bottomless pit of the online world, so be it. People, including possibly me, who want it, will consume it. And maybe it will whet consumers’ appetites for creative arts produced by humans. Maybe even for mine.

Although there remain environmental and intellectual property factors to consider in choosing to use AI tools, the artistic (or Artistic) merits and values of what it produces seem trivial and egocentric to me.

Over my lifetime, I have consumed trillions of words by seasoned and novice writers. I have seen pens, pencils, and keyboards used to stunning effect, in both the positive and negative sense. I expect no different of the words generated by AI tools.

I wish any creator, any artist using any tool much joy in the creative process, whatever theirs might be. And I look forward to making up my own mind on their end product, however it came to be, no capital A required.

Who is this guy?

An award-winning screenwriter and filmmaker, Randall C Willis has told stories his entire life, writing for every medium, but has recently caught fire live on-stage. He describes himself as a story evangelist, a practice that he preaches as a screenwriting instructor at George Brown Polytechnic. In January, Randall launched the workshop Out of Our Minds and Onto the Page, which fosters freewheeling creativity and spontaneous storytelling using improv games and writing sprints. And through his company So, What’s Your Story?, he helps storytellers of all media to find their voices and explore their ideas.

Randall has told stories across Toronto, grateful to take the spotlight at Funny Bone, Listen to This, Page to Stage, Tales Toronto, The Yarn, Tight Five, and Replay Storytelling.

Ex machina – a review

by

2

ex_machina

Ex machina tells the story of Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson), a young computer programmer slaving for a large unnamed corporation that we eventually learn is somewhere between Facebook and Google. As the movie starts, Caleb’s computer flashes that he has won a company contest to visit the mountain-retreat home of recluse company founder Nathan (Oscar Isaac).

Upon confused arrival, he is welcomed warmly by Nathan and escorted through a labyrinthine maze of non-descript hallways where Caleb learns he has access to some rooms and not others based on his ID card. As Nathan explains, the austere design reflects the space’s use not as a home but rather as a research facility.

Nathan explains his AI breakthrough to Caleb

Nathan explains his AI breakthrough to Caleb

Nathan eventually divulges that he has been working on building an AI or artificial intelligence, and that Caleb’s role during his week at the retreat is to apply the Turing Test to the AI; that is, through a series of questions to elucidate whether the interviewer is speaking with a human or a computer.

Which brings us to Ava—played by Alicia Vikander—the ingénue AI that Caleb is to test. As she sits before her inquisitor, Ava is mostly metal and wires, but that hasn’t kept Nathan from endowing her with sexuality in her form, a soft approachable voice, and a human-like face.

Caleb becomes Ava's inquisitor through plexiglas

Caleb becomes Ava’s inquisitor through plexiglas

Through a series of conversations—between Nathan and Caleb, and Caleb and Ava—the film explores questions of identity, freedom, inalienable rights and love. But therein lies my primary problem with the movie: It is a stage play performed as a film.

Without giving too much away [doing my best to avoid spoilers], the interactions between the characters are almost as sterile as the environment in which they occur. Simply put, damned little happens aside from a series of conversations.

A labyrinthine maze of halls and locked doors

A labyrinthine maze of halls and locked doors

I am confident that this was done on purpose by writer/director Alex Garland—best known for the films 28 Days Later and 28 Weeks Later. I have no doubt that the minimalism of film is in itself a metaphor for the lifeless character of the AI.

But whereas minimalism is expected in a live theatre, it feels off-putting in a cinema. Ex machina engages the conscious mind but not the eye, unless your eye is drawn to beige. In fact, given the lack of action in this film, it would even work–possibly better–as a radio drama.

Domhnall Gleeson, Alicia Vikander and Oscar Isaacs (L to R)

Domhnall Gleeson, Alicia Vikander and Oscar Isaacs (L to R)

The performances were good, but I didn’t feel like the actors were given a lot to work with.

As I found so ironic with the movie Prometheus, the character of the android Ava was the most deeply developed (compare Ava to Michael Fassbender’s David). You could actually see her character evolve as the movie progressed at its leisurely pace. And full marks to Vikander for being able to imbue so much internal communication through subtle verbal intonations.

Subtle intonations and expressions bring Ava to life.

Subtle intonations and expressions bring Ava to life.

The character of Nathan showed the most potential, however, as you could see a brooding darkness within him that vacillated between wilting depression and disturbing malevolence. But as with so many aspects of this film, the potential was never really explored and we were left with a subtextual emptiness.

And Caleb proved to be the type of antagonist that I find least appealing—the victim—mostly bobbing like a cork on the eddies and currents outside of its control. He is neither hero nor anti-hero and so leaves me cold and uncaring, and if I don’t care, I am not engaged.

Ex machina is a very cerebral movie, dealing with deeply philosophical questions about humanity and self-awareness, and to a lesser extent about emotional connection. And in many ways, it is only because of Ava that the film does not devolve into an Open University lecture.

There is little doubt that the robotics and artificial intelligence enthusiasts will get a hard-on from Ex machina, a biological function that forms a humorous sidebar in the story.

But for those who like these subjects and want to be entertained by a gripping story, I suggest you take another look at Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner, where identical questions are discussed in a backdrop of a film noir story line.

Ex machina is not completely without mystery, and I did find myself asking questions about the characters, including wondering if the audience wasn’t part of some Turing Test. But if I ever opened my mouth in anything approximating a “wow”, it was merely to yawn at the film’s glacial pacing.

There are small moments of tension, but they dissipate quickly and rarely result in any shocking revelations. There are moments that are squirm-inducing to start but do not really linger or pay off.

But for all my complaining, the ending of the story was satisfying. Although, for my money, that’s when the story finally got interesting.

Like Transcendence before it, Ex machina had a lot of potential, but failed to deliver.

Perhaps an AI film director will do better.