‘Uncanny Valley’ Trust me
We’re all fans of the medium, so I think I have a good chance of throwing a strike with this one; Uncanny Valley (2015) is the sort of film that can inspire a filmmaker. It's a movie-goer’s short film, which is why I think I can trust you guys with this one. What I mean by that is - Uncanny Valley takes a very big swing, and it takes a film fan to respect that in the fullest sense. The scope of it is colossal.
Uncanny Valley posits the existence of some future faction of the people in the United States that are addicted to virtual-reality gaming. The film builds a world in which this addiction is tantamount to being a heroin addict, even building in a nurse that caters to “VR-dependent” neighborhoods. This is a much more insidious framing of VR technology than we’re used to seeing in movies. Argentinian director Federico Heller takes us through a crackhouse, filled with floating junkies, incapacitated by a small device that hooks into the nostrils. Let’s take a moment to consider just how easily executing this concept goes wrong - If any of the addicts interviewed oversells it, for instance, or if too much coverage makes the concept of floating as a result of being ‘plugged-in’ seem silly, then the the entire hypothesis of addiction in this realm is trivialized. Making a sci-fi short film is like driving on a narrow ridge through a mountain pass; death on either side. Luckily, safety is only nine minutes away. Oh and when dealing with that example specifically, cinematographers Fernando Lorenzale and Nicolas Trovato chose to leave the subjects a bit out of focus, prompting the viewer to confront this detail on a conceptual level as opposed to a more visual one. More of a “we won’t be taking questions at this time” approach. The kind of thing that could literally sweep you off of your feet, instill you with tremendous purpose and obfuscate your own perception of reality - floating is the physical embodiment of that phenomenon. To be out of touch in a literal sense, from what we know as reality.
One of the things that warmed me to this postulation of the future is the film’s visual style; the footage in the houses of these game players is pale, the contrast is high, and it’s all washed in a gross yellow - you could even call it “Fincher-esque”, in case you wanted everyone to hate you in a social setting. We come to know the subjects via documentary-style interview footage, as they each provide us with their account of what it is like to experience this drug, and what about it that keeps them coming back. Uncanny Valley then lets us into the game, the virtual reality absorbs us with its deep, rich blues neon reds. One of my favorite shots is @3:26 in the film; we’re close on a reflection of the dystopian virtual reality landscape in the eye shield of our protagonist’s avatar.
I am speaking about the first half a whole lot, but there is a reason for that. About 5 minutes into the film, it takes a turn that you won’t see coming. I always aim to preserve that blindness. But know that Heller is able to add an entirely different dimension to the film, almost in a literal sense, in the second half of the movie. Now even if you don’t necessarily like the shape of the storyline after this turn, you’ll again find it difficult to argue with the production’s execution.
And after less than ten minutes, look at all that Uncanny Valley is able to accomplish. An action packed sci-fi, with just a splash of documentary, that comments on our physiological dependence on technology… oh, and a whole lot more if you’ve seen how the film concludes. I don’t think it’s an overstatement in the least to say that films like this one can inspire others to think bigger; to attack large, complex concepts. I revere these things about Uncanny Valley, and I really hope to see more like it.