The notion of artificial intelligence has been fodder for science fiction films since 2001, but it’s unsurprisingly become the topic du jour in cinemas as the real world comes increasingly close to achieving it. So far it’s been a mixed bag, with Her, The Machine, Chappie and Transcendence, and the Avengers haven’t fought off an army of Ultron’s yet, and another Terminator has yet to combat poor spelling and mind-numbing plotting.

Thankfully, Ex Machina is a lot more simple, and thanks to writer-director Alex Garland (Dredd, Sunshine), it’s sleek, stylish and beautiful. It’s also not as clever as it thinks it is, filled with mostly recycled bumper sticker philosophy.

But it mostly doesn’t matter because Oscar Isaac is endlessly entertaining. There isn’t another actor like him. Here he’s Nathan, a charming and dangerous egomaniac, often in the same breath, a secluded billionaire genius who gets hammered nightly and is annoying enough to be hitting the punching bag every dawn. You almost wonder if he’s the machine, because this is an actor operating on a frequency different than mere mortals, his energy and magnetism off the charts.

Isaac finds himself opposite his future Star Wars Episode VII costar Domhnall Gleeson, imbuing Caleb with his increasingly recognizable brand of awkward. Caleb won a lottery at work, selected at random to take part in a top secret study with Nathan, the head of Bluebook, a Google-like search engine. When he arrives in what is probably the most beautiful place in the world*, Nathan dumps a truckload of crazy on him: Caleb is to be the human component in the Turing Test (first realized cinematically in Blade Runner), to determine whether Ava (Alicia Vikander, about to blow up in The Man From U.N.C.L.E., probably not literally) has Artificial Intelligence.

*There’s waterfalls, forests, snowy mountains, the sparkling sun, a wallpaper-like background that violently juxtaposes Nathan’s empty bunker; each vista practically asks why we need to create AI when we live in a world where something this gorgeous exists, or it makes us wonder if it’s just another layer of Nathan’s programming, because it’s that perfect.

Over the course of a week, Caleb meets with Ava, and of course, he’s smitten with her, because sexy naked female robot. There’s an inkling that we shouldn’t sexualize robots, that we’re entering dangerous territory, and perpetuating stereotypes and male hegemony (you don’t see any sexy naked male robots in this movie), but Ex Machina does it anyway.

It doesn’t take long for Ava to warn Caleb that he can’t trust Nathan, something that might as well be blinking in bright red flashing lights every time you see him before she warns him. The real question is if Caleb can trust Ava.

There’s nothing too surprising about what happens, except by however Isaac is going to deliver his lines, but Ex Machina is fascinating and engaging to watch anyways. It helps that there’s a mesmerizing, hilarious and awesome dance scene with Isaac and Kyoko, his comically sexualized mute assistant, which is in the running for my favorite scene of 2015.

I love the frank discussions of technology; that yes, “you can fuck her.” That Isaac is practically telling the audience not to think too much when he admonishes Caleb for trying to poke holes in his AI or in the Turing Test, as if he knows that there isn’t much substance to Ex Machina’s sci-fi soup. The glimpses into the technology that we do see, that Ava was modeled after a search engine, is fascinating. For Ex Machina, AI is art, that it won’t be achieved with rational thought, but by the blind whims and brush strokes by a technowizard Jackson Pollock. Art, creativity and abstract expressionism is what unlocked AI for Nathan. Like Pollock’s art, Ex Machina is flashy, fun, crazy, chaotic, and probably a mistake to spend considerable time investigating any deeper meaning.

A24 will release EX MACHINA in theaters April 10, 2015.

Based on a novel by Patricia Highsmith, The Two Faces of January is a well-acted, reasonably well made, vaguely Hitchcockian suspense thriller that explores the similarities between star Viggo Mortensen (Lord of the Rings)and a guy who’s been labeled a future star so many times that he’s already leapfrogged over that stage in his career, Oscar Isaac (Inside Llewyn Davis).

Isaac plays Rydal, an ethnically ambiguous man who could very well be Greek, except he’s from Trenton, New Jersey, an ex-patriot who spurned a scholarship to Yale Law School to write never-to-be published poetry, swindle (and commingle with) beguiling young tourists (like actress Daisy Bevan), while acting as a tour guide in and around Athens. The year is 1962, and there’s a whiff of Jack Kerouac and the beat in Rydal’s soul.

Viggo is Chester MacFarland, a wealthy businessman with an exceptionally younger wife (Spider-Man’s Kirsten Dunst, as Colette/scene dressing). When Rydal spots him, patrolling the Parthenon with Colette, he’s reminded of his father. Rydal, of course, has a complicated relationship with his Dad (why else would he be in Greece instead of Law School?), one so difficult Rydal purposefully missed his funeral.

Perhaps because Chester reminds him of his father, Rydal wants to be him, wants his wife, his life. But, appearances can be deceiving. Rydal fashions himself Greek-ish and a friendly, lover of women, yet he never misses an opportunity to skim off the top whenever handling foreign currencies (said women). Chester appears to be a worthy and rich mark, but is it the other way around? Chester’s wealth and prestige is ill-gotten: he’s a con artist who stole money from investors, and he’s now on the run. Why else would he be in Greece? Because Greece is beautiful, you might say, and that’s normally an obligatory statement in such a European feeling movie, but I wasn’t particularly captivated by Athens or the various Crete villages that Rydal, Chester and Colette prance around, as its wonders were ignored or mere backdrop for their downward spiral.

Chester reminds me of Viggo’s character in A History of Violence, except that we know much sooner that Chester is not what he seems to be, that he’s not as good an actor, the simmering anger not far from the surface, particularly with whiskey close at hand.

Colette immediately takes a liking to Rydal, and vice versa, as the trio hatches an outing to explore the flea market. As these things inevitably go, after a wonderful evening (buoyed by Rydal’s date, an alluring Van Buren descendant), a smarmy private detective shows up at Chester’s hotel room, ends up dead, and Rydal finds himself in embroiled in the couple’s escape. Whether it’s for the money, for Colette or merely because he’s bored, waiting for something remarkable to happen, Rydal doesn’t get out, even while he still can.

Operating from his own script, Hossein Amini, an accomplished screenwriter and intriguing talent who wrote Drive, Snow White and the Huntsman and the unfortunate 47 Ronin, makes his directorial debut. The resulting film feels sort of like Anton Corbijn’s The American with more narrative thrust, and a con man instead of an assassin. While Viggo and Oscar get a lot to play with, Kirsten Dunst’s Colette is little more than a prop, a wedge piece between Chester and Rydal, a mutual interest. It’s a shame, because Dunst seems willing and capable of much more than being a bewitching plot device. How much of Chester’s criminal activity is Colette privy to? Why does she stay with him even as her homesickness for Brooklyn grows (and an accompany accent appears)? Chester and Colette’s past is a helluva lot more interesting than its present.

Amini proposes that Rydal and Chester aren’t much different (two sides of the same coin, two faces of January, etc.); in fact, we’re meant to believe that Chester is Rydal’s future, that despite fleeing to Greece, Rydal can’t escape his father, or becoming him. When they first meet, even when we believe what both of them say they are, neither trusts the other, and that never truly changes. The film hinges on this relationship and it doesn’t truly earn it. Despite what seems like a much longer period of time together than it actually is, I didn’t truly believe the characters’ evolution, nor was ever entirely invested in it.

THE TWO FACES OF JANUARY is now available on iTunes/OnDemand and in theaters Friday September 26, 2014.

On this “holiday,” that’s grown in meaning and popularity thanks to the promise of a bajillion new movies, I thought I’d riff on STAR WARS.

Like many in my generation, my first exposure to STAR WARS came with the re-releases in the 1990’s, preparing the world for EPISODE ONE. After watching and loving and being enthralled with the original trilogy…I launched myself into the Expanded Universe, devouring Rogue Squadron, Young Jedi Knights, the Jedi Academy trilogy, The Bounty Hunter and Timothy Zahn’s brilliant Thrawn trilogy. I think my addiction ended sometime during the New Jedi Order series, though not because I didn’t like it. I just moved on to different universes, and different book series, as STAR WARS not only made me love movies, but the Expanded Universe is what really got me into reading. And for that, I’ll be eternally grateful.

STAR WARS was one of the first things I was truly nerdy about, as I found room for Yoda and Han Solo alongside Shawn Kemp and Jay Buhner as idols, fitting in STAR WARS books with baseball and basketball practice. My first little league team name was Jedi Knights. Needless to say, we weren’t very good. I remember during the first All-Stars practice in 8th grade, my rival SS who was entirely too likable told the squad STAR WARS was his favorite movie (I’m not sure if he meant the first one, the franchise as a whole, or if he did say a specific episode). I said AMERICAN PIE to get laughs and garner popularity. I was a douche, and a liar, because I remember thinking to myself that Tim took my favorite movie.

I remember watching EPISODE ONE at the recently renovated Cinerama in Seattle, back when a visit to Seattle was a rare and exciting treat, for my friend Jacob’s birthday. Afterwards, I was excited about Senator Palpatine and seeing his transformation into Emperor Palpatine. For whatever reason, Jacob shot me down, calling me an idiot for thinking that would happen. It’s one of the more angry, perplexing, yet absolutely fortified memories of my life. What was he talking about? I honestly didn’t hate the movie when I first saw it. It wasn’t until I became older, smarter (not really) and more cynical, that I grew to loathe the Phantom Menace and everything it represented, though I’ll admit to deriving some satisfaction and joy from the rest of the trilogy. But it obviously wasn’t the same, not even close, and I think we all breathed a sigh of relief when it was over.

Now…it’s back, with Disney, Kathleen Kennedy and J.J. Abrams around to bring it into fruition. And…

I have no idea what to expect with EPISODE VII. I’m a huge J.J. Abrams fan, as LOST and ALIAS forever transformed the way I watched TV, and the kind of shows I watched. For my money, the first STAR TREK is one of the best blockbusters of all-time. But is the right person for STAR WARS? Is there a right person for STAR WARS? It rubs me (and everyone) the wrong way that they’re ignoring the EU, since the Thrawn trilogy just makes too much sense as inspiration for these three films.

While I’m as disappointed as anyone by the lack of ethnic and gender diversity with the announced cast, I expect the final ensemble to better reflect a more balanced galaxy far, far away (it better). Bring on Lupita. But I was impressed with all the young talent Abrams has cobbled together. I don’t know Daisy Ridley, but she looks the part of a Solo/Organa daughter, and certainly got my attention with this short film:

Adam Driver has one of the more enigmatic, unique and interesting screen presences on TV. GIRLS has all kinds of problems…but his character is fascinating, thanks to his performance. I wasn’t a fan of INSIDE LLEWYN DAVIS, but Oscar Isaac is going to win one of the very awards he may as well have been named after someday (unless STAR WARS ruins his career). John Boyega was terrific in ATTACK THE BLOCK, and is an awesome choice to headline the cast. And Domhnall Gleeson may be the guy I like the most of all of the young guns, since he’s just so charming and likable and funny. And then we get to Max von Sydow?! Andy Serkis?! Are you kidding me. Fucking sweet.

I can’t help but be caught up in it all, and speculate over what characters they’ll play, whether they’re Sith, Jedi, evil, good, both, alien, human, etc., while choosing to hope the original heroes are mostly background, supporting players there to help shepherd a new generation.

STAR WARS remains a part of me…and even if these future films blow…it always will. People love to complain about George Lucas, and what’s become of the STAR WARS universe since the original trilogy, but to me, it still doesn’t take away or tarnish my childhood. I will always love Chewy, I’ll always fantasize about Princess Leia and being a Jedi, and I’ll always want to be Harrison Ford. Well, that Harrison Ford.

And that’s what I choose to think about on May 4th (and not the below image). May the 4th be with you all.