Why I Want to Vomit When I Watch the Movie Polar Express

Oh, yes! The delightful holiday movie Polar Express! A movie that reminds us of our younger years, when we irrationally believed in an overweight pervert who sneaks into homes and leaves us presents but steals the remote control and then your dad blames you for it being gone after he's had a bit too much eggnog and his favorite local sports team lost the big game. Simpler times, when you could sit back, put your feet up, bask in the warm glow of a fire, and be content with life.

WRONG.

Polar Express is a movie that is so repulsive, I have to leave any room in which it is on or I will start projectile vomiting all over the drapes. It's not due to the subject matter. I have very fond memories of the Christmases of my youth. My family didn't bask in any fires (except for the great tree fires of '87, '92, and '96), but we were able to not strangle each other for about a week and remember that it would not be a good idea to kill one another. After that week, it was promptly back to the strangling.

No, The Polar Express movie, or should I say, vomit party, is so very disgusting because of a little robotic theory called "The Uncanny Valley." I will present to you this graph to make myself look smart: The basic premise is as follows: as something becomes more and more like a human, the natural emotional response is to empathize with said thing. Example: a bear in a top hat. A-DOR-ABLE!!! You see, it's a bear but it is wearing HUMAN clothes!! How cute! The more a bear starts acting like a human, the more we will enjoy it's crazy, picnic basket-stealing antics. However, there is a point where the bear becomes so close to being human, almost indistinguishable, that the minor imperfections that are present make us want to either rise up and slay the bear, or eat our own eyeballs in disgust. This phenomena is called the Uncanny Valley (the point where the graph dips to its lowest point).

You are thinking, "When will a bear ever become so much like a human in real life?" And I would say out loud to this thought, "You are right, I am an idiot for using a bear as an example. Allow me to rectify this by continuing with a better scenario." Then you think to yourself, "How in the world did this crazy know what I was thinking?!??!?" And then I say, "Because I can read your mind a-hole. You shouldn't say bad things about a crazy telepath, it will only lead to trouble. FOR YOU." And then you sit quietly with your hands folded in your lap, prepared to listen further.

The Uncanny Valley really comes into play when we are dealing with humanoid figures, particularly robots, or in the case of the cinematic abortion Polar Express, realistic 3D computer animation. Let's reference the graph to understand this better.

1. Far left, Industrial Robot: perhaps something you would see in a car factory. It has movable joints, grabbers that might resemble hands, and it can do work a human used to do, but was fired because he was too inefficient. Familiarity and likeness, close to zero.

2. Middle, humanoid robot: as we slide up the graph, the robots become more human in shape and appearance. Arms and legs, torso, head. They can speak and walk like humans, but clearly still not alive. Imagine C-3PO from Star Wars or Robbie from Forbidden Planet or that nice servant robot from The Jetsons. They all have weaseled their robot asses into pop culture as fun characters that we cherish. We empathize with them.

3. The high point: This is the closest something can get to resembling a human before the roller coaster of death. We can still distinguish the robot as non-human, but it is a damn fine replica.

4. The Uncanny Valley, zombie: KILL IT!!!! KILL IT WITH FIRE!!!!!!!!!!

5. On the upswing, the Bunraku puppet: "What is a bunraku puppet?" you ask. Well, it's an evil Japanese puppet that will kill your family in their sleep if you don't shut your piehole.

6. The tippy-top, a healthy human: A robot at this point would be completely indistinguishable from you or I (except maybe you in the corner over there, you've got robotish features). Imagine Rutger Hauer running through town causing all sorts of robot havoc and no one knows he is a robot unless Harrison Ford gives him an emotional test.

I'd say Tom Hanks in Polar Express falls somewhere on the downslope towards the uncanny valley. Enough to make you puke your lunch or permanently blind yourself but not quite the level of the overwhelming fear and disgust you would get from seeing a zombie (I myself am impervious to the emotional effects of zombification because I am fully trained in zombie survival. I speak only of the reaction of the common folk).

So yes, The Polar Express animation is just way too creepy to be enjoyable and has probably ruined thousands of Christmases for thousands of little kids. But the really interesting part about the Uncanny Valley is how it will unfold through future robot development. Those crazy Japanese have already created a robot that is teaching in the classroom that looks way too human for my liking:
Meet Saya. Yuck.
What I am really interested in is the point in the future, where all robots are approaching the precipice of this Uncanny Valley. They are as close to it as you possibly can get and all it will take is one tiny tweak, one small development in their appearance and they will all plunge into the dark, expansive abyss. I look forward to that day, because it is my dream to see an entire country, NAY, the entire world, spontaneously vomit all over their drapes at home.

I predict it will happen right before the Zombocalypse. I hope to be alive to see both.




*DISCLAIMER: I am just a lunatic with a computer. I know nothing about the details of robotic study. Do not take any of this is science fact.*