Ascher’s A Glitch in the Matrix

If Elon Musk and Plato agree something might be a possibility, you have to take it seriously, but lemming Robin Hood users can’t invest in the “Matrix.” The idea that our world is a pre-programmed illusion goes back to Plato’s Cave, but it gained major new currency with the releasee of the Wachowskis’ The Matrix. Rodney Ascher explores the philosophical underpinnings of “simulation theory” through the lens of The Matrix and other science fiction films in A Glitch in the Matrix, which releases tomorrow on VOD and in select theaters, following its Sundance premiere.

There are a lot of people out there who suspect we might be living in a simulated construct, several of whom discuss their theories at length with Ascher, or rather their avatars do. Yet, the most important voice in the film is Philip K. Dick, seen in archival footage giving a speech to a bewildered French science fiction convention about his experiences perceiving alternate realities. It really was a keynote for the ages.

Ascher covers heady concepts, like Plato’s Cave (illustrated by Sam Weiss’s animated short, narrated by Orson Welles), Descartes’ “Solipsism,” Nick Bostrum’s “Simulation Hypothesis,” and the old “Brain in a jar” thought experiment. Ascher uses ample clips from science fiction films to exemplify their points, obviously including the Matrix trilogy and just about every PKD adaptation, but there is one conspicuous omission. Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s World on a Wire (streaming on Kanopy) anticipated the themes of The Matrix and Tron way back in 1973, when it was produced for Western German television.

There is a lot of egg-headery in Glitch and some cool visuals. However, Ascher maintains an agnostic tone, fully exploring the dark side and shortcomings of the theory as well. On the plus side, media critic Emily Pothast compellingly reminds us of the tangible emotional benefits of human connections, very definitely including the physical kind. Conversely, Joshua Cooke provides a harrowing account of the murders he committed while in throes of extreme Matrix-fandom, allegedly believing his adopted parents were constructs of the Matrix.

Radio Free Albemuth: Revolt of the Eggheads

Transrealism is a sub-genre of science fiction in which the author frequently appears as a character in their own work, freely melding the fantastical and the autobiographical. The style has several proponents, but they are all largely swimming in Philip K. Dick’s wake. Amongst his most transreal works were his VALIS trilogy and a related posthumous novel. While many Dick novels have been loosely adapted for the screen, the courageous John Alan Simon took a shot at a comparatively faithful take on the more self-contained latter novel. Things will get all kinds of transreal in Simon’s Radio Free Albemuth (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

In this alternate world, America is crypto-fascist state, but ironically there is less intrusive surveillance afoot than under the Obama Administration. President (for life) Ferris F. Fremont (FFF = 666) continues to be re-elected despite his bizarre campaign against “Aramcheck,” a supposed shadowy cabal of Soviet sleeper agents still conspiring against the country, years after the fall of Communism. Science fiction novelist Philip K. Dick will chronicle his pal Nicholas Brady’s ill-fated attempt to foment an uprising against Fremont. We know it will be ill-fated because of the decidedly dystopian framing device.

Frankly, the Orwellian state was working quite well for Brady, at least for a while. Thanks to subliminal messaging sent to him by a hive-mind alien entity he dubs VALIS (Vast Active Living Intelligence System), Brady leaves his Berkley record store gig in favor of a position at a record label, where he quickly advances. Due to his previous visions, he is convinced he should sign the mysterious Sylvia to a recording contract when she applies for a receptionist position. She has no idea what he is talking about, but appreciates any opportunity because of her unfortunate surname: Aramcheck.

Eventually, we learn those who commune with VALIS have an egg implanted in their heads, the Roman Empire never really fell, but continues to be the power behind the curtain, and perhaps Fremont was a Manchurian Candidate-style Soviet plant. Strangely, it all mostly makes sense in context.

Simon goes for a trippy, hallucinatory vibe, but unfortunately he succeeds too well. There is indeed a far-out atmosphere to the proceedings, but that consequently slows the pacing down to a somnambulist shuffle. This also gives viewers more than enough time to fully acknowledge the MST3K-worthy special effects. Frankly, it would be better not to show VALIS’s Satellite of Love than to green screen something that looks cruder than Overdrawn at the Memory Bank.

Clearly, Dick was not holding back the weirdness in Albemuth, yet it now seems somewhat dated, not just in terms of the escalated surveillance. There are weird L. Ronian echoes to the VALIS egg-implants, while Dick’s Cold War disdain seems rather naïve in light of Eastern Europe’s independence movements and Putin’s subsequent  Neo-Soviet imperialism. Frankly, the best thing about Simon’s film is the self-reflexively ironic Dick character and the understated but intense performance of Boardwalk Empire’s Shea Whigham.

Albemuth also boasts Alanis Morissette in her first substantial dramatic role, but it is nothing to write home about. Yet, Jonathan Scarfe is even more dour and dull as Brady. At least Hanna Hall seems to enjoy playing the fascist vixen toying with Dick (that doesn’t sound right, but so be it).

As if it needed any stranger credentials, Albemuth also boasts Robyn Hitchcock’s original song “Let’s Party,” which is bizarrely effective playing a critical role within the narrative. In fact, Simon’s ambition is admirable, but there are just too many disparate parts in conflict with each other. It is easy to see why his Hollywood predecessors opted to crank up the action instead. A noble car crash of a film that “Dickheads” will have to see regardless of mere mortal criticism, Radio Free Albemuth opens this Friday (6/27) in New York at the Quad Cinema.

On-Stage: Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep

They enthusiastically call themselves “Dick-Heads.” They are fans of the postmodernist science fiction writer Philip K. Dick and they certainly appreciate irony. No doubt, they will also flock to the Untitled Theater Company’s new stage adaptation of Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, now officially open at the 3LD Art and Technology Center in Lower Manhattan.

Director Edward Einhorn’s adaptation is much more faithful than any cut of the movie Blade Runner, also loosely based on Dick’s original source novel. Though undeniably a classic, Ridley Scott’s film seems to have a different ending every few years. Still, Einhorn also takes his own liberties, at times to emphasize gender differences in the brave new world of the future.

The so-called World War Terminus left most of the Earth radioactive. Nearly every species of animal is extinct, but lifelike replicants are available for those who can afford them. Unfortunately, bounty hunter Rick Deckard just killed his electric sheep. That is what he does. He tracks down and terminates renegade humanoid androids as a freelancer for the local police. Deckard has become disturbingly good at it.

There are several methods for determining if a suspect is human or an “andy,” but Deckard prefers the Voight-Kampff test, designed to measure a suspect’s ability to feel empathy. However, Deckard’s ruthlessness towards the synthetics is starting to raise questions about his own capacity for empathy. He also finds himself increasingly attracted to an android, Rachel Rosen, the spokesperson on Earth for the Mars-based Rosen Corporation and the ostensive daughter of the company’s founder. Three of Rosen’s most advanced androids have gone rogue, perhaps including Rosen herself, or an identical model.

Neal Wilkinson’s sets eschew the slick cyberpunk look of Scott’s film, deliberately evoking a 1950’s sense of the future, with grainy monitors and low tech devices that even pre-date the 1968 publication of Dick’s novel. It is effective world-building though, creating the atmosphere of a crummy dystopia, but not one so oppressively regulated by Big Brother that Deckard’s services would not be required.

If anything, Sheep might be too stylized. For those going into the theater with only a long past viewing of Blade Runner under their belts, it takes a few beats to catch up with some of the gizmos and lingo. Yet, the play’s thorough deconstruction of “Mercerism,” a strange ideology of empathy and resurrection that seems to offer a glimmer of optimism, renders the world of Sheep a rather soulless, materialistic place. Indeed, the bizarre visions of Mercer in the “empathy boxes” appear to serve as stand-ins for religion writ large, all of which, we are duly lead to believe, are false.

Sheep’s cast often find themselves in challenging positions, frequently zonked out on mood enhancers, half-fried by radiation, or otherwise existing in some explicitly inhuman state. They largely sell it, even when that requires them to sink into the backdrop rather than rise to the fore. However, Alex Emmanuel is quite compelling as Deckard, progressively agitated as the humanity of everyone around him (and even his own) is called into question.

Sheep is at its best when asking the philosophical questions the Untitled Company specializes in. Specifically, the replicants directly challenge the notion of “empathy” as a higher virtue. If one is just imagining one’s self in another’s position, is it not simply a projection of selfishness? Unfortunately, Sheep does not have a good corresponding answer, leaving audiences only the hope of survival in a nihilistic world. It is a meaty production, but ultimately also a cold one, yet Dick loyalists should definitely appreciate its literate ambition. Now official open, it runs through December 10th at the 3LD Art and Technology Center.