I've never been a big fan of superhero movies. If you've followed me or read through my articles, you'd know this is true. So, you can imagine my reaction when I heard about Netflix's new release, "Atlas."
Based on just a few stills, I was convinced in less than a second that it wasn't my cup of tea. It looked too much like those blockbuster movies—Marvel, DC, or any other big studio—that leave you feeling awful after watching. But eventually, I went back to it because it's a story about AI. I can't help it; I'm a huge AI movie fan.
If you ask me what exactly I like about AI, I'd tell you without hesitation: first, I love the ethical issues in human-machine relationships; second, the AIs in movies are often too advanced to exist in reality, and I happen to like things that don't exist in reality. This is one of the reasons that can apply to all movies and any other art forms: we all need to escape reality from time to time. So, I watched "Atlas" with these two expectations in mind. To be honest, I was prepared to see it fail, but surprisingly, it wasn't as bad as I imagined.
The ethical issues in human-machine relationships aren't that complex. In movies, there are essentially two scenarios: first, humans can become close to and trust AI; second, this leads to human disaster and destruction. Representatives of the first scenario are Steven Spielberg's "A.I. Artificial Intelligence" (2001)—where a robot boy strives to return to his human mother—and Tom Hanks' "Finch" (2021)—a futuristic "survival" story where the protagonist is accompanied by a robot dog instead of a wild man named Friday. The second scenario has even more examples: "The Matrix" (1999), "Ex Machina" (2014), "Westworld" (2016)—each darker than the last.
The cleverness of "Atlas" lies in its refusal to take a side in the pro-AI or anti-AI debate. Instead, it takes a middle ground. The writers were smart not to delve into the grand question of trust versus distrust. Instead, they focused on the micro-relationship between a person and a specific AI. Our protagonist, military intelligence analyst Atlas Shepherd, initally distrusts AI, but after interacting with an upgraded AI robot, she chooses to trust a particular one. In other words, it's a story of a human teaming up with some AIs to defeat other AIs. This is its novelty.
This novelty might be a happy accident, rooted in Netflix's DNA—Netflix always aims to create content that appeals to the global market, capturing as broad an audience as possible. Thus, it excels at blending various elements together. In the case of "Atlas," those who are fond of AI will love the AI character Smith, while those who are always wary of AI will also find their place in the movie.
The blending extends to the overall style of "Atlas," both visually and narratively. At times, it feels like an artsy, auteur-driven indie sci-fi film, especially during the nuanced, philosophical dialogues between Atlas and Smith. But most of the time, as I mentioned earlier, it feels like a mainstream superhero movie. Its sci-fi scenes—the buildings, aircraft, mechs, robots, and even the fluorescent special effects—cater to fans of franchises like "Star Wars." This makes its sci-fi concepts and visuals seem quite mediocre. In other words, it didn't meet my expectation of "surpassing reality."
Finally, I want to return to the issue of human-machine ethics. I wondered what this story would be like if it wasn't made by Netflix—how the question of trust in AI would be more complex. Perhaps the conclusion would be that whether humans can trust AI depends not on a subjective emotional perception but on human capability—if AI can't be trusted, it's simply because humans haven't designed it well enough. Wouldn't that be more interesting?
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