Fantastic Machine

Excluding a short passage at the beginning, big screen movies are touched upon much less than you might expect here; they certainly take second place to the “viral video” phenomenon.

Using a storytelling approach that shows as much as it tells, Fantastic Machine relies on archive footage and video content from the web to remind us that the camera is a tool - or as the title (and King) says, a machine. And, as we know, machines can be used for both good and for bad.

At times it felt the title was mocking us; the word “fantastic” looming ironically over our heads as we’re forced to endure footage from some of mankind’s greatest atrocities.
Not long after we were celebrating the brilliance of the camera, we are forced to question how “fantastic” something can be when it’s been manipulated to such extremes.

With so much vague social commentary to wade through though, unclear is the filmmakers’ message (except for the all too done “people, politics and phones are bad”.)

While the film does rely a little too much on the shocking (both ha-ha and heartbreaking) there are some points of interest and it’s not an experience entirely without opinions.

One particular highlight was the witty juxtaposition of Netflix CEO Reed Hastings talking about the streaming giant’s seductive algorithm, swiftly followed by a Venus flytrap luring and trapping its prey. The messaging may not have been subtle, but it made for a good bit of viewing.

Leaning in an almost gimmicky fashion on borrowed content from around the web does mean the film is at times abrasive as it cuts and chops in a way that, ironically, would be better suited to some of the mediums it seems to critique.

Had this been a film released during a lockdown, when we were filling our boots with made-for-TV documentaries, we might have been happy enough spending 90 minutes laughing at memed videos or rolling our eyes at girlish influencers anally editing photos. Yet in a time where cinemagoers are finding absurdity (Poor Things), hyper-specific subcultures (Saltburn), and emotional resonance (All of Us Strangers), I can’t help but think that Fantastic Machine will fall flat, and already feels a little after its time.