While these two films are presented as light-hearted sci-fi comedies, they nevertheless tap into a philosophical conversation about the nature of sentience: If a robot seems to possess human-like emotion, as though it\u2019s capable of falling in love, at what point do we consider it (for all intents and purposes) alive? And if a machine can mimic a person to the extent that it can engage in a romantic relationship that an actual human being finds emotionally fulfilling, then does it really matter if it\u2019s experiencing organic love as we know it, or just an artificial approximation? This question will have implications not just for the robots, but for the women who find themselves falling in love with them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ulysses in Making Mr. Right<\/em> is no Gigolo Joe from AI: Artificial Intelligence<\/em> \u2013 he isn\u2019t designed to serve a romantic function at all. In fact, his creator Dr. Jeff Peters (John Malkovich, who also plays Ulysses) has constructed him for a scientific purpose. Since humans are ill-equipped to withstand the long periods of isolation required for deep space travel, he serves as a logical replacement. His programming gives almost zero consideration to human interaction \u2013 it simply won\u2019t be needed of him. But before he can be sent on his epic space mission, he first has to do a PR tour, and for that, the company that owns Ulysses hires a publicist, Frankie Stone (Ann Magnuson), to give him a crash course in human behavior. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Here, too, romance is hardly an objective. Frankie is horrified that Ulysses seems to have developed a crush on her. All the same, in her efforts to introduce him to humanity, she is in fact molding him into the type of man she prefers. She encourages (albeit begrudgingly) his natural curiosity, showing him television shows and allowing him to explore the contents of her purse. Despite being made in the image of a callous and misanthropic scientist, with Frankie\u2019s guidance Ulysses becomes kind, sensitive, and loving. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Their romantic attachment to one another has a stubborn persistence \u2013 although she recognizes the absurdity of dating an android, she doesn\u2019t put that much effort into discouraging his affections either. In fact, she clearly finds it charming, especially in contrast to her ex-boyfriend, a politician running for Congress whose every social interaction is tinged with cynical opportunism. But although they end happily enough, Ulysses\u2019 one robotic tendency \u2013 the fact that he short-circuits whenever experiencing an extreme (read: sexual) emotion \u2013 is a niggling reminder that however human he may seem, Frankie is still romantically involved with a machine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In I\u2019m Your Man<\/em>, by contrast, the relationship is not a happy accident, but entirely intentional. Maren Eggert plays Alma, a scientist who has agreed to test out a new robotic dating service and gauge its ethical value in exchange for research funds. Alma is entirely skeptical that an android could replicate human romance \u2013 even if one was programmed to meet her exact tastes, the knowledge that it was a machine would be off-putting enough to prevent her from emotionally engaging with it, let alone falling in love. When she is given Tom (Dan Stevens) to test drive, she struggles to hide her distaste for the whole affair. He is charming, affable, and eager to please, designed to replicate not just her specific preferences, but initiate actions that most women, statistically, find appealing. We learn early on that Tom\u2019s algorithm develops as it receives new feedback, determining which actions elicit a positive or negative reaction. He confidently tells her at one point that the more time they spend together, the more often he\u2019ll say or do something that will please her, and the fewer \u201cmistakes\u201d he\u2019ll make.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This is an interesting point, because we do see this over the course of the film \u2013 he begins to feel more in tune with Alma, and less focused on pleasing her as a part of his official capacity as love robot. From her perspective, these changes mimic the process of falling in love: She thinks that she\u2019s getting to know him better, and that he\u2019s becoming more human. But is that actually the case, or is what we\u2019re seeing just finely-tuned, state of the art software becoming more sophisticated?<\/p>\n\n\n\n The central conflict of Alma (and Frankie, to a certain extent) is not whether to develop an emotional connection with the robot in their life \u2013 that happens regardless of their intentions. But instead, it\u2019s an internal struggle of whether to accept that love, knowing that it comes from an artificial place. Is it better to be alone, having chosen not to embrace the inherent lie of carrying out a romantic relationship with a human-shaped mass of technology? Or is it better to be happy, even if that your chosen partner isn\u2019t human and, in the case of Alma, loves you because that\u2019s what it has literally been designed to do?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Both Making Mr. Right<\/em> and I\u2019m Your Man<\/em> feature two confident, self-possessed women who have been unlucky in love, and are given a chance to have an unconventional relationship with a mechanical paramour who has been molded into the perfect partner. But while Making Mr. Right<\/em> gives into the fantasy, I\u2019m Your Man<\/em> questions the entire premise of it, which has implications that go far beyond the realm of sci-fi romance. Whether or not we settle for a lie, the convenient delusions of happiness is a question that lurks beneath every rapidly disintegrating relationship, even when there aren\u2019t any robots involved. With Valentine\u2019s Day approaching, we look at a very particular subset of the romantic comedy: the stories of robots and the women they love. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":566,"featured_media":17859,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1399],"tags":[1422],"class_list":["post-17857","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-looking-back","tag-looking-back"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17857","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/566"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17857"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17857\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22052,"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17857\/revisions\/22052"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/17859"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17857"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17857"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17857"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"\"](\"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/02\/im-your-man-1024x577.jpg\")
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