Humour

Getting under DeVito’s skin

T A Balasubramanian finds an exciting role in Baffle Corp for DeVito, the biped humanoid

Danny DeVito, the first biped walking humanoid from Ironica Robotica’s labs, is clearly miffed with his creator, Prof Ironica Asimova.

Doodh Byramji continues listening in, and so are the two pretty members of Robotica’s staff who are guiding him—Senior Researcher Nina Nilgiri and Chief Desig-ner Lola Lipton. Byramji is here to find ways to improve Chaibo, the rebel robot, if possible, using some of Robotica’s latest research. Doodh, or Doodhi, is the restless design engineer from Baffle Technologies. His diary keeps pace with the day’s events.

5.20 pm: Ironica, Nina and Lola take turns to placate DeVito, who finds the remarks about his budding intelligence too belittling.

“Hey, you know something?” he rails, waving his hands dramatically at all of us. “You, and you, and you, could each give me a little respect, you know. I can use embedded wireless to synchronise data processing with an externally connected PC, which means I can follow continuous speech in many vocabularies. You can try Spanish on me, or even Italian, and I’ll chat you under the table,” he snorts, walking around in agitation, like a caged tiger.

“I can do songs like a professional rock star, or vibratos and jazz numbers, if you like. You’ll never find the original DeVito doing all that, now, would you?”

“All right, Danny, take a break,” says Nina, tapping his forehead lightly. Instantly, DeVito walks over to the nearest chair and sits down, folds his arms and closes his eyes as though meditating deeply.

“So what do you think of our Debonair, Vocal IT Oddball, Doodh?” says Ironica, smiling.

“Touchy and sensitive, but impressive, Prof Asimova,” I submit, shaking my head. “A ditto of the Hollywood version, kinks and tantrums included, almost to the last detail. When I came in here, I was thinking more on the lines of discovering some way to add a small tweak to Chaibo, but this prototype blows Chaibo completely out of the water.”

“Oh, he’s light year’s ahead of Chaibo. We call it the power of applied cute. Our research shows that cuteness has great value, Doodh. Especially if it is designed as a life-like roly-poly and short version of a lovable human character, it’s easier for people to relate to emotionally. The more life-like the robot, the more people respond.”

“He gets cranky, too. Is that part of the design?” I ask.

“Of course, it is,” says Ironica. “One of the most interesting questions would probably be how a robot will deal with a substantially larger amount of sensory information. Since most of the information we gather through our senses is redundant, our brains have to extract the meaningful parts of it. Robots like DeVito will have to do the same, dealing with unfamiliar experiences, and part of that effort will create stress and disorientation at times.”

“We’re all clumsy when we learn,” I say, sagely.

“So we are, Doodh,” says Ironica, smiling. “The most sophisticated humanoid robots around today, such as Sony’s miniature QRIO and the latest version of Honda’s childlike Asimo, can dance and run, but they still do it clumsily, and only in environments he is familiar with. We’re one step ahead. DeVito represents the state of the art in robot locomotion—but he can do all that active walking around we just saw anywhere you put him. But he’s humanly clumsy, so just as people who have numb feet have trouble standing and walking sometimes, he’s likely to trip and stumble in unknown terrain. We think people are more sympathetic when they see chubby, cranky and clumsy, but lifelike, counterparts like DeVito, with skin and all. It adds up to putting in a degree of endearing eccentricity.”

“Chaibo’s pretty eccentric, too,” I say. “And that’s part of the problem we have on hand.”

“Even if they are in meetings to offer beverage support and improve office efficiency, we want to have robots that act and behave like quirky humans, not oddball machines that spin around on wheels and use stiff electronic voices,” says Nina. “If Chaibo is goofy, we tend to be upset because we still think of it as a clunky gadget because he still looks like one. But if we have a walking, talking, joking Danny DeVito that looks and feels like the real thing, with skin and body contours like a human being, we can build in all kinds of funny dysfunctions that would be acceptable. Even in a stuffy old place like Baffle Corporation.”

“That makes sense, Prof Asimova,” I nod, thinking of all the times I have been hugely entertained by the comic capers of DeVito in movies, with his diminutive stature, balding head and loud speech. And to find a replica of the man here, right down to the natural skin and the shuffling walk, makes me reel.

“We think it’s time to give the clunky Chaibo a more polished humanoid supervisor who can handle his career a little better than the mafia down at Baffle is doing now. Our plan is to have our dapper Danny DeVito slip into that company seamlessly in some role that would suit his talents,” says Lola.

“And what role would that be?” I ask, suddenly recalling that the real DeVito’s career went on an upswing when he portrayed a variety of repugnant characters, like The Penguin in Batman, with great success. “You know, the original became popular because he was perfect for playing the roles of comical, yet loathsome little men.”

“Ah, we would have to guard against that, of course,” says Nina, thoughtfully. “I will make sure that Danny’s programming keeps out the loathsome and the vile aspects, and keeps in the cuteness.”

“Which brings me back to the question. How, exactly, does Danny fit into the Baffle gameplan?”

“Well, we’re thinking of taking him in there as the new CTO,” says Nina, with a twinkle in her eye.

“Danny DeVito is being posted as Baffle’s new Chief Technology Officer,” says Ironica, solemnly.

“Ah, that’s very cute,” I say, after digesting the announcement slowly. “It’s the role of a lifetime, even for a Hollywood heavyweight.”

5.40 pm : It’s time for me to take leave of my delightful hosts, and I linger as much as possible while Lola and Nina fuss over me, making sure I am given a complete dossier on DeVito’s innermost workings, including details of the architecture that makes humanoids look, respond, and even fumble, like humans.

I also take home with me a special gift from Ironica—an electronic clone of Nikita, the cat. He’s called Felixa, and now we have a very cute domestic pet that does everything that a real cat does, except chase mice. That I still do myself. On the computer, of course.