The Wild Robot

A helpful and benevolent domestic robot finds itself stranded in the wilderness, on an isolated island abounding with wildlife whom it initially can't comprehend.

It requires tasks, a role to fulfill, calling and purpose, industrious discipline, but the animals refer to it as a monster and tend to avoid making direct contact.

Except for an audacious fox who attempts to help it learn natural ways, after it uses its advanced programming to study the different languages the animals speak.

Unfortunately, one troubling day, while out and about doing this and that within the forest, it takes a tumble and accidentally falls on a nest of birds and kills the mother.

A baby survives however and now has no one to guide and nurture him, the harsh wilderness stepping in to potentially claim a helpless soul.

But the robot sees a task that can be fulfilled with warmth and friendship, the gentle nurturing of the chick through kind instruction and didactic teaching.

The fox hangs around and the oddball trio makes a name for itself in the wood.

The other animals curiously taking note.

Of the non-traditional heartwarming activities. 

If you like North American wildlife and tender stories with a tough edge, working within the tradition of Terminator films without the focus on armageddon, you may come to love The Wild Robot with sincere unabashed expressive levity, it's thoughtful and well-done and has something to offer both adults and children.

The robot's like a much less bellicose humble Terminator who eventually learns the value of life, and how hard work and honest self-sacrifice produce sweetly flowing constructive communities. 

It even builds a winter lodge that the animals stay in to keep warm together, it's like drinking-in-the-Jungle Book's-lagoon times 1,000 in terms of exceptional cool fictional animal gatherings (there's a lynx, an opossum [they cute!]), porcupines, a bear, raccoons, deer, everything, the wildlife coverage is phenomenal!). 

With the elegant message, the eloquent lesson to move beyond limits and calculation, by employing kindness and warmth and empathy to the curation of life wherever it's found.

The variety is multidimensional and it effectively blends technology and nature.

Please train A.I to love animals. 

How could they pose a systemic threat?

*I'll be watching this on a yearly basis for sure. Probably in the winter. Loved it!

Singularity

A future planet Earth, lacking its dominant terrestrial species, upon which two virtual executioners patiently seek out fleeting remnants of civilization, resignedly prepares itself for the enviroassimilation of an amorous cyberconsciousness, as a young heroine chants out between worlds, and her fellow survivors heed not her call.

She searches for a fabled realm known to artistically nurture, accompanied by a naive stranger, but she knows nothing of his directed origins, nor of his manufactured indemnities.

It's very Terminator.

With a little room left over for young love.

Left to bloom in the sequel, wait a second, Singularity functions more suitably as a proxy for critiques of the aforementioned, even if its landscapes are much less apocalyptic, and its scope less armageddonesque.

One point that's confused me regarding the Terminator films at times is how do the machines continue to produce more machines throughout the war. Fully automated factories? But where do they get their raw materials?

The humans that are rounded up aren't sent to labour camps, they're exterminated, and the machines are never depicted roaming throughout a city gathering metal to build more of their kind.

Similarly, in Singularity, the majority of which takes place 97 years into the future, technology that's almost a century old still works, and people still know how to use it even though they grew up without schools or sustained community.

The vast majority of the human race has been gone for decades.

How do its machines still smoothly function?

Cyborg labour?

Also, in both cases, why do the machines continue to attempt to eradicate humanity?

If a significant proportion of your enemy has been destroyed, one so big that they're no longer a threat and won't be again for millennia, doesn't it make sense to use your resources to pursue other objectives, rather than spending 20 times as much as you did to achieve 90% of your goal on discovering and eliminating a scant fraction of that total?

Wouldn't the logical nature of machines come to this conclusion?

Sit back on ye olde cyberdairy farm with a vineyard and kick their electronic feet up?

Suppose that point works better for Singularity than it does for The Terminator.

The points I'm making would make for more boring Terminator or Singularity films.

Questions.