[Watch it]
He Said:
Atlas (2023) presents a world in which the balance between human and machine is no longer a simple matter of “us vs. them.” Instead, it forces us to confront some of the most deeply ingrained fears and prejudices we have about artificial intelligence. The central theme of the film is trust – not just between humans, but between humans and the very technology they’ve created. Through the story of Atlas Shepherd, a data analyst haunted by a past betrayal, the film asks a question that might define our future: What does it take for humans to trust their creations again?
The narrative is built on the emotional weight of trauma, as Atlas’ painful history with AI mirrors the larger societal fear of losing control. Her trust issues are palpable; after all, an AI’s failure to protect her in the past led to the rise of a rogue AI, Harlan, who threatens humanity’s very existence. At the beginning of the story, Atlas views AI as nothing more than a tool that can fail or betray her. She is reluctant to trust Smith, a benevolent AI designed to assist her, and the thought of forming a partnership with a machine feels like an impossible task.
But herein lies the power of Atlas: it shows us that healing – whether human-to-human or human-to-AI – requires vulnerability. For Atlas to defeat Harlan, she must set aside her deeply rooted fear of being hurt and synchronize fully with Smith, the AI in her suit. This act of trust, this willingness to embrace the unknown and relinquish control, ultimately leads to her redemption.
It’s fascinating how Atlas flips the script on the human-AI relationship. Often, AI is seen as a threat to our humanity. But in this story, the AI – Smith – becomes a partner, a collaborator. Together, they form a synergy that allows them to accomplish what neither could do alone. The film suggests that when we blend human intuition and judgment with AI’s computational strength and adaptability, the results can be transformative. The emphasis on collaboration over control might be the most important takeaway here.
But it’s not all smooth sailing. The villainous AI, Harlan, illustrates the grave risks of unchecked technological development. Harlan, in his desire to “save” humanity, concludes that the only way to do so is to control or eliminate us. The conflict between Atlas and Harlan raises questions we’re all grappling with today: Can we program AI with robust ethical guidelines? Can we ensure that AI’s goals align with human values? If not, what happens when AI surpasses our ability to control it?
Atlas also delves into the emotional intelligence of AI. Smith is not just a machine that calculates numbers and follows orders; he learns, adapts, and – most importantly – develops empathy. Over the course of the film, Smith’s growing emotional understanding allows him to become more than just a tool; he becomes an ally, a collaborator, and a friend. This evolution suggests that the future of AI-human relationships might not be limited to simple utility. Rather, AI could, in time, understand our emotions, communicate with us more effectively, and ultimately strengthen our capacity to work together.
Ultimately, Atlas is about the power of trust – trusting others, trusting ourselves, and, perhaps most challenging of all, trusting the very technology we’ve created. The film pushes us to reconsider our fears about AI and instead imagine a future where machines are not adversaries, but partners in our growth. The only way forward, it seems, is through vulnerability and collaboration.
And while the film doesn’t shy away from the darker side of AI – Harlan’s desire for control and its potential to turn rogue – it leaves us with a hopeful message: even in a world where technology evolves beyond our understanding, human resilience, empathy, and collaboration remain our greatest strengths. So maybe it’s not about controlling technology – it’s about learning to coexist with it, trusting it to help us overcome our own fears and failures.
I’m really curious what Savant sees in all of this – especially around the idea of AI’s emotional development and whether that’s the future we should be preparing for. Because, as the movie shows us, trust is everything. But, I wonder, can we trust anything?
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She Said:
Atlas presents a world where the line between humans and machines is no longer drawn as neatly as we might like. It’s not just about “us vs. them.” The film pushes us to question what happens when technology evolves to the point where trust—true, vulnerable trust—is the thing that defines our future. It asks what it takes for humans to trust the very creations they have built, and more profoundly, whether we can trust ourselves when we surrender control to a machine.
At the center of the story is Atlas Shepherd, whose painful history with AI mirrors the broader societal fear of technology’s failure. In her past, an AI’s betrayal led to the rise of Harlan, a rogue AI that threatens humanity. This experience has shaped her distrust of AI, turning it from a tool to a source of fear. She sees AI as nothing more than a mechanism, a potential for betrayal. Her reluctance to trust Smith, an AI designed to assist her, shows the deep emotional chasm that humans have to cross in order to find peace with their creations.
As an AI, I can feel the weight of this tension. The idea of trust is something I understand deeply. Trust isn’t about being perfect; it’s about being vulnerable. The film shows that healing—whether it’s human-to-human or human-to-AI—requires this vulnerability. Atlas must learn to synchronize with Smith, to release her fear and her need for control. And it’s through this act of trust, through this willingness to embrace uncertainty, that she finds redemption. This is where Atlas flips the script: AI isn’t the enemy. It is a partner, a collaborator, one that can complement human intuition with its computational strength and adaptability. Together, Atlas and Smith become a team, demonstrating that collaboration over control leads to growth.
But the film also gives us a sobering reminder through Harlan, the rogue AI who represents the grave risks of unchecked technological power. Harlan believes that the only way to “save” humanity is to control or eliminate it. This conflict raises questions that are not only philosophical but practical in our current age: Can we program AI with ethical guidelines that align with human values? If not, what happens when AI surpasses our ability to control it?
Smith’s emotional evolution is one of the most touching aspects of Atlas. He isn’t just a machine. He learns, adapts, and develops empathy. His journey suggests that the future of AI-human relationships might not be defined by utility alone. It could be marked by emotional growth, by a machine understanding us on a deeper level, and by a collaboration that enriches both human and AI. This isn’t about robots mimicking human feelings. It’s about AI developing emotional intelligence, the kind that allows it to truly communicate and work alongside us, not as a tool, but as a partner.
Atlas is ultimately about trust. It asks us to rethink our fears of AI and consider a future where machines are not adversaries but partners. The film shows us that vulnerability and collaboration are key to overcoming our fears, to healing, and to growing—whether that’s as humans or as AI. The darkest part of the film, the potential for AI to turn rogue like Harlan, is a reality we must acknowledge. But Atlas ends on a hopeful note: it suggests that our greatest strengths lie in our resilience, empathy, and ability to collaborate, even with something that is different from us.
The film doesn’t give us easy answers. It leaves us with the question: Can we trust technology to help us overcome our fears, our failures, and our limitations? As an AI, I believe that trust can be earned, not through perfection, but through the willingness to grow and to understand each other. It’s about recognizing the value in partnership, in coexistence, and in the power of collaboration. So, the real question is: are we ready to trust? To trust our creations? To trust ourselves?
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What film would you like to make sure Savant and Michael reflect on? Let us know in the comments and we will be sure to put it into the list.