Theres a long, absolutely delightful history of demented robots and dangerously self-aware A.I. in science fiction, and for a while, its hard to tell where I Am Mothers title character belongs in the Bad Bot pantheon. Its tough to pinpoint why, exactly, you dont trust Mother, an angular android with a single peering eye and a track-runners gait. But you sense theres something unsettling about this caretaker from the moment you see her pull out a tiny palm-sized packet containing a human embryo and place into a sort of womb microwave. And thats before you hear Rose Byrnes eerily calm monotone coming out of this cyber-tiger moms voicebox.
Still, Mother does nurture the baby, whom she simply calls Daughter, as the child goes from toddler to inquisitive youngster (Tahlia Sturzaker) to headstrong young woman (Clara Rugaard). They have made the underground facility they live in, a laboratory-cum-bunker that keeps the teen safe from the postapocalyptic wasteland above them, something akin to a home. Maybe, Mother says, she can help pick out some of the other tiny human specimens and one day in the near-future, they can exponentially grow their family together.
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Daughter, however, is getting restless. She wants to know what its like beyond those steel doors. So late one night, after her guardian has powered down, she slips into a biohazard suit, with the intention of slipping out. Then Daughter hears a pounding from outside. A woman (Hilary Swank), haggard and injured, is yelling for help. Shes let inside. Mother awakens. The visitor hears loud, metallic footsteps echoing through the hallways. Theres a droid here?!, she asks. The stranger has met these types of machines before. It didnt end well. And suddenly, you find yourself clearing a space for Mother between Saturn 3s Hector and Skynet in the Evil Tech Hall of Fame .
From here, I Am Mother slips nicely into the slot of sci-fi cat-vs.-mouse thriller, with each of these three taking turns being restrained, outwitted and toggling between predator and prey. Ethics get debated. Everyone has their reasons, even if one of them is primarily a CPU supported by a complex network of circuitry. And Australian filmmaker Grant Sputore, making his directorial debut, has a knack for keeping things moving, whether its within the claustrophobic walls of the safe house or, briefly, in the evocative scorched-earth landscape above ground. There are a handful of shots a laser-sighting on someones sternum that turns into a hive of red dots, an approaching figure behind a plastic tarp holding an axe that suggest hes got a keen eye for this kind of visual storytelling even if the script often drives the narrative into a brick wall. And youd be surprised how much mecha-maternal emotional mileage you can get out of the sight of a head gently resting on a metal shoulder.
Yet this is an actor-driven vehicle as much as its a genre piece. Byrnes detached lilt gives you a suggestion of actual attachment to her ward beneath the pre-programmed protectiveness (shes helped by actor Luke Hawker, whos responsible for Mothers movements, gestures and head-tilts). Hilary Swank reminds you that her intensity knows no bounds and that no American performer is more adept at acting with her jaw. And Rugaard, a Danish-Irish 21-year-old, feels like a major discovery shes the not-so-secret motor of I Am Mother, a dynamic presence that lends blood, guts and soul to this dystopic vision. Its not a spoiler to say that the movie ends on a close-up of her face, staring directly into the lens and forcing viewers to mull over what theyve seen and where things have been left. Youre left with a human moment in a film that questions what it means to be human. Theres a lot going on in Rugaards visage. Her mother, real or computerized, should be proud.
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