"Absolute Denial" is a fine animated sci-fi marked by delicious ambiguity and experimentation, with a "Primer"-like feel. Introverted whizz-kid programmer David decides to build a supercomputer in a secluded warehouse and attempts to "wake it up"-to create a "strong AI" capable of general intelligence and understanding the world beyond narrow tasks. Knowing this is risky, he "air gaps" the computer, isolating it to prevent its intelligence from spreading beyond the warehouse.
The title Absolute Denial holds a dual meaning: it refers to both the AI failsafe-a protocol invented for the film to prevent an AI from acting autonomously-and to David's psychological state. As the AI challenges his authority, David avoids its arguments and distances himself from those around him, remaining in "absolute denial" about both his creation and the world outside his control-a kind of silicon solipsist.
David's precautions seem like a belt-and-braces approach to controlling an AI that might grow beyond his intentions. However, Manhunter fans may recall Hannibal Lecter's ability to manipulate others from his cell, casting doubt on the idea that David's measures can truly contain a supercomputer with vast knowledge and insight speeds 1,000 times beyond human capability.
The film raises complex questions: Would a superintelligent AI be malevolent or benevolent? Does opening this 21st-century Pandora's Box release evils-or might it bring humanity's freedom? There are particularly fun touches, such as the AI creating a simulation of David himself to manipulate him, and fascinating questions about how a general AI might experience time. Would a five-minute conversation with a human, to such an AI, feel like 500 years, each sentence taking as long as a tree takes to grow? The key with Pandora's box is that there's no going back. In some ways, David's reality becomes like those in eXistenZ or Fassbinder's Welt Am Draht: once the switch is flipped, David cannot know whether he's inside a simulation, suffering psychological collapse, or being manipulated.
As an aside, we still don't know what would happen if we created a true strong AI-or if it's even possible. Some experts suggest a strong AI must experience the world to truly understand it, requiring trial and error in 3D space to grasp it fully. A computer might mimic human descriptions of 3D space but lack an actual concept of it. Perhaps it's better to admit we don't know what strong AI could do. Current 'wisdom of crowds' predictions place a 50% chance of achieving the 'singularity' of strong AI by 2060-called a singularity because, like a black hole, we have no idea what lies beyond. Absolute Denial taps into the fear of this unknown future, which feels closer with every technological advance. Yet the story of Absolute Denial is centuries old, drawing not only on the archetype of Pandora's Box but also on the Golem of Prague; the value of this continuation of tradition lies in the film's nuanced details and cultivated ambiguity.
The film's evolving ambiguity is vividly captured by kaleidoscopic and surreal animation, with a grisaille aesthetic that blurs boundaries between man and machine, reality and simulation. Absolute Denial is inventive and thought-provoking-a unique experience that deserves a much wider audience.
