Humour

Digital action heroics

T A Balasubramanian on removing the last barricade of human discrimination—our ability to tell whether the person on the screen is real or simulated

“Here’s the quiz, guys. Do you see the wrinkled face of the villain, Dr. Nono—that shiny bald head with a few curls on both sides, and with all those forked veins, crow’s-feet, and moles?” says Georgio Lucasi, CEO of Digital Reality Amplified to Mimic Anything, an emerging entertainment software company that is referred to by the envious snobs in the business as plain DRAMA. He stands next to a DVD system, while the scene plays on.

“And can you see those tiny dimples and windblown hair of the lovely Momo? Now wait and watch for the hero, Gogo. You can see the frown on Gogo’s brow, and now you can see that he is angry and frustrated. See his perspiration as it dribbles in complex ways, tracking every fold of flesh on his face.”

Lucasi is talking animatedly to the DRAMA market development and promotion gang under his charge. This includes Bimal Rao, Chief Marketing Manager and Sellina Reddy, Regional Sales Manager, and their assorted team members.

“Dr. Nono certainly must be Anoop Kher, while Gogo—of course, he is our dynamic hero, Akshun Kumar,” says Rao brightly.

“And Momo, of course is Katrina Kapoor,” says Reddy, smugly. “I can recognize her eyes anywhere.”

“You are both right, and you’re both wrong,” says Lucasi, beaming triumphantly.

“What?” say the two simultaneously, with open mouths.

“That’s the beauty of our technology—the people you see on the screen do, of course, look exactly like Anoop, Akshun and Katrina—they are designed to be so. But they are not the real actors playing Nono, Gogo and Momo. In this little clip from the movie, ‘Follywood Mashup’ these characters do look, move, and speak like human beings, but they are computer-generated animations, as artificial as Donald Duck or Shrek.”

“That’s amazing, Boss,” says Sellina, looking glazed. Rao, however, is speechless.

“Ah, so they are amazing creations,” sighs Lucasi, looking pleased. “One last barricade of human discrimination—our ability to tell whether the person on the screen is real or simulated—is about to crumble, and we, at DRAMA, will be responsible for this magical subterfuge. When this film opens next year, it will signal a change not only in cinema but also in television, computer monitors, handheld displays, and the other ubiquitous screens of modern life. Already thousands of people worldwide are exchanging talking-head emails, getting news from synthetic broadcasters, even holding eye-to-eye conversations with face-based databases. From now on, expect technology to literally have a human face.”

“Boss, how did all this happen?” says Rao, finding his voice.

“Well, Bimal, you might modestly say that we digital demons are behind this. With films like Follywood Mashup, you can expect to see legions of computer-generated, photo-real human actors or ‘follystars’ in special-effects parlance. In a way, they have been creeping towards us from under the arc lights of animation movies for more than a decade. From those terrifying dinosaurs in Jurassic Park to the tragic vertically falling passengers on the sinking Titanic, computer-graphic creations have been steadily evolving from the eerie to the heart-breakingly intimate.”

“That’s interesting, Boss. But why has it taken so long?”

“A close-up, photo-real human being is surprisingly complicated to create with just pixels—it is the most difficult thing to render because it is the most familiar sight for us finicky humans. The tiniest flaw, and you—the critical viewer—will instinctively realize that it is not right.”

“But we have a lot of great hardware and software to correct all that, don’t we?” says Reddy.

“We have the technology, yes, but not the techniques, as yet. As always, Sellina, the devil is in the details—or so my software artists tell me. The human face—like mine and yours, for example—is full of what they call micro-movements. I am told that the little twitches of the bottom eyelid, or even the skin folds alone are incredibly complex. Even the big guys at Pixar have not been able to capture that yet. Imagine looking at the evil animated incarnation of Anthony Hopkins playing Hannibal Lecter in close-up and not finding those almost-invisible micro-twitches.”

“Of course, Boss,” says Sellina, shuddering. “He’d suddenly stop being menacing—and I would feel the difference at once.”

“So what do we do next?” says Rao, ever the practical man of action.

“Ah, but we are not quite there yet, either,” says Lucasi, spreading his hands wide. “While Dr. Nono and his gang are amazingly realistic, they are just a little short of being photo-real. If you watch this preview closely again, you will see skin that is a shade too opaque and faces that are slightly too stiff—which is unacceptable for DRAMA productions. Even so, they are so close to perfect—shall we say 95%?—they prove that the next jump is achievable. The acid test will be when we are ready with a computer-animated Katrina and the real Katrina on-screen at the same time—and it would be impossible to tell who is who.”

“I couldn’t tell the difference even with this 95% impersonator, Boss,” says Sellina, looking crestfallen.

“Never mind, we are all bound to fall for it,” says Lucasi, laughing. “In the meantime, we launch the revolutionary FaceChatter.”

“That’s better, Boss. What can we do with FaceChatter?” says Rao, eagerly.

“It’s a signal to our customers. A path-breaking DRAMA software package that lets you send and receive talking-head emails. You will be able to have a digital representation of your own face scanned from a photograph, and it will speak using a recording of your own voice.”

“Oh, no, Boss. I could never use it,” says Reddy.

“And why not?” says Lucasi, looking flabbergasted.

“Imagine the lines under my eyes not twitching. It would look terrible. And just not me!”