Ex Machina review: A sharp and exhilarating sci-fi horror

Director: Alex Garland; Screenwriter: Alex Garland; Starring: Alicia Vikander, Domhnall Gleeson, Oscar Isaac, Sonoya Mizuno, Corey Johnson; Running time: 108 mins; Certificate: 15

Stripping his sci-fi remit back down to basics after the high-profile excesses of Dredd, Alex Garland makes his long-awaited directorial debut with the taut, intimate Ex Machina. A high-concept AI thriller told like a chamber play, Garland's script puts the focus heavily on his powerhouse young cast, their loaded interactions posing questions that are as frequently emotional as existential.

Domhnall Gleeson, who after Frank is becoming known as the everyman thrust into a brave new world, plays a meek young software engineer selected in a competition to take part in a groundbreaking robotics experiment. Transported by helicopter to a remote, sleekly futuristic compound, Caleb is enlisted by reclusive genius Nathan (Oscar Isaac) to test the limitations of a remarkable new AI crafted in the shape of a young woman, Ava (Alicia Vikander).

Specifically, it's Ava's humanity – or the appearance of it – that is being examined using a version of the Turing Test, a plot point which makes Ex Machina's release mere weeks after The Imitation Game fortuitous in ways that can only be coincidental. Nathan's goal is to create a truly conscious artificial intelligence, indistinguishable from a human being, and sends Caleb in to converse with Ava in order to see if she can pass for a real girl, thus fulfilling the requirement of the Turing Test.

The low, windowless rooms and unnervingly smooth lines of Nathan's facility create an uneasy stage upon which Ex Machina plays out as a series of lengthy conversations. Garland has described the film as "basically people talking in rooms", and though modest the description is not incorrect; there is no action to speak of until the film builds to its jarring, haunting climax.

But nobody is exactly what they seem, and nothing they say is exactly what they mean, and from this ambiguity arises mesmerising tension as well as the kind of philosophical questions Garland has always tackled as a writer, most recently in 2010's Never Let Me Go: what does it mean to be conscious? What does it mean to be human? Is there a fundamental difference between the organic machinery of a human body, and the manmade machinery of a robotic body?

As thoughtful as it is thrilling, Ex Machina is a razor-sharp and nimble character drama which takes a controlled nosedive into exhilarating sci-fi horror.

By all appearances, the soft-spoken, politely curious Ava passes the Turing Test with flying colours, except that her body is designed in such a way as to leave no uncertainty that she is a robot, intriguingly suggesting a kind of cruelty on the part of her designer. Nathan, played with force by the always compelling Isaac, is a character shrouded in almost as many question marks as Ava herself, and Gleeson's comparatively straight-shooting Caleb seems equally bamboozled by both.

As the screws gradually tighten on this central triangle – which becomes a quadrangle with the enigmatic presence of house maid Kyoko (Sonoya Mizuno) – Garland ramps up the stakes with shifting power dynamics and reversals of expectation. One strikingly blunt conversation between Nathan and Caleb about Ava's sexuality seems to be laying the groundwork for a more kinky and psychosexual thriller than Ex Machina (thankfully) ever becomes, and though female nudity abounds throughout it is framed with a specific intent, as are the two very different and very significant moments in which Ava gets dressed.

Tired though 2001: A Space Odyssey comparisons inevitably feel, Ava's growing self-consciousness in contrast to the humans around her is thoroughly reminiscent of HAL's, though Vikander's graceful and deftly modulated performance makes Ava very much her own beast. There are twists here, but not the ones you expect – in one key moment Garland plays on what would have been a predictable character twist, teasing it out as though daring us to believe it before pulling back.

As thoughtful as it is thrilling, Ex Machina is a razor-sharp and nimble character drama which takes a controlled nosedive into exhilarating sci-fi horror.

Emma Dibdin

Emma Dibdin is a freelance writer based in Los Angeles who writes about culture, mental health, and true crime. She loves owls, hates cilantro, and can find the queer subtext in literally anything.