[woman] Previously, on The Girlfriend Experience...
Do you know how to use your tongue, Paul?
Let me show you.
Not so fast.
He responded positively to me
putting him in a submissive position.
On your knees.
[Iris] He came twice
and seemed surprised by his own body.
[doctor] The water molecules
along your father's white matter tracts--
there's an increased activity.
[Iris] Nobody really knows
what's going on inside anybody's head.
Won't take you long to figure it out.
That'd be sloppy hiring if it did.
What's your pitch?
[Iris] When given a choice,
people essentially want a mirror.
You've got my attention.
Because we don't do sloppy hiring.
[woman 1] It's definitely the fastest way
for me to get off.
Boy or girl. I want variety.
[Iris] It's not about what they want...
[woman 2] It has to be a good handful.
But how they're feeling about it in the moment.
[woman 3] You can either give it to me or you can't.
The object of desire is a foil. It doesn't actually exist.
[soft dramatic music]
♪ ♪
[soft music continues]
♪ ♪
[phone chimes]
[soft beeping at each floor]
[distant, muffled TV]
[sportscaster, indistinct coverage]
-[crowd roaring] -Dodgers are on the board.
[man] Posey, Posey! Right up my fucking ass!
[indistinct announcer coverage]
[pounding]
[game continues in background]
Cassie?
[crowd sounds, announcer]
Brett.
[Brett] Ah, long day curating at the Met?
Come on in.
[game on TV continues]
Nice place.
You rent it out as a college dorm?
What?
Oh. [chuckles]
Uh, it's my manager's.
He lets me crash here where I get sick of Chicago.
And American chicks.
You want a beer?
[posh English accent] Bloody love one.
[ball cracks on bat, crowd cheers]
[Brett] Pimply fag in Jersey prints analysis,
averages over time.
Plus my personal knowledge of the guys, like--
like Corey, right?
Fuckin' love Corey.
I'd party till the sun comes up with Corey,
but would I bet on the guy? [scoffs]
No fuckin' way, man. UCL's fucked to shit.
[sportscaster continues]
[posh English accent] Baseball player?
[Brett] Mm.
With a fantasy baseball team?
[Brett] Math and money if you know your shit.
You know, a lot of the guys do it.
Kasabian's on mine, I'm on his.
You know, till I fucked my shoulder up.
You eat all the rice?
Oh.
So what about you, Princess Kate, huh?
What gets you all hot and bothered?
[posh English accent] Cricket? Soccer?
I like baseball.
[normally] [chuckling] No, you don't.
You don't have any baseball out here, man.
Fuck baseball.
I really do like it, though.
[Brett] Bullshit, you do.
What you know about baseball? All prim and proper and shit.
You got a fuckin' napkin in your lap.
Come on. Don't be polite.
I don't want you to like baseball.
Okay.
I don't like it, then.
Well, now you're just doing what you're told.
-[refrigerator door slams] -A'ight, a'ight, man.
If you like it, you like it.
That's the thing with you Brits, man.
Y'all ain't got no confrontation in your society.
All just all upright and agreeable.
Afraid to fuck shit up.
[game continues in background]
Seems to have worked for us so far.
[Brett] Yeah.
But you'll never be a world power again.
You know what happens to a stick in a windstorm?
It cracks. Can't handle it.
Too stiff to withstand the change in the air.
Reeds, on the other hand...
And that's you?
Floppy reed?
When I need to be.
♪ ♪
[crash register rings]
[Brett] Okay, turn around, turn around.
-[Iris] Yeah? -[Brett] Yeah.
[Iris] Okay.
♪ ♪
What are you doing?
-I wanna feel you. -No, not without a rubber.
Oh, come on, babe. I can't feel anything.
I don't believe you.
-[groans] Try making me mad. -I'm mad for you.
No, no, no, not--not-- not English mad.
Get pissy with me. Let me have it.
You want me to make you angry, big boy?
No, not angry. Mad, okay?
Let's fight and make things better.
♪ ♪
I'll be right back.
-What? -[Iris] Hold on.
♪ ♪
[Brett, whispers] Oh, fuck.
-Come on. Real girls give shit. -[door shuts]
[sighs]
[game continues on TV]
I just want to say it was really rude of you
having the game on like that when I arrived.
[Brett] Oh, yeah?
[crowd murmuring on TV]
It was a shitty way to meet someone.
Yeah, I don't believe you.
[purse hits floor]
[announcer continues in background]
Hey, I was watching that.
And do you have any idea how much of a turn-off that is?
I came over here tonight for a date,
not to babysit some benched man-child
wanking off to a make-believe game.
Yeah, I don't feel anything.
Do you think because somebody paid you a bit of money
to run around in circles trying to catch a ball
gives you some sort of authority on world politics?
[scoffs]
The U.K. may be on the decline, but so is the U.S.,
given your lazy choice of words.
Nobody says "fag" anymore, Brett.
Come on. It really gives you away.
Call me when you grow the fuck up.
[laughs]
-You think I'm joking? -Hey, hey, hey.
-Let go of me. -Don't--don't fucking
-walk out of that door. -I said let go.
It's fucking over if you walk out that fucking door.
-[Iris] Fucking let go! -[fabric rips]
What the fuck is this, huh?
You were-- you were recording us, huh?
That's illegal.
I just turned it on.
What the fuck for, huh? Blackmail?
Jesus fucking Christ.
God, Cassie, what is wrong with you?
[panting] What?
-You mad now? -[soft dramatic music]
[Brett] What?
-Mad now? -[Brett] uh--
-oh, you fucking bitch. -[chuckles]
[panting]
♪ ♪
[Brett] Don't ever do that to me again.
[panting]
♪ ♪
[groaning]
♪ ♪
[moaning]
♪ ♪
[woman's voice] Nobody thought she could pull it off.
There we all stood waiting,
freezing our bloody knickers off, eyes on the sea,
when lo and behold to my astonishment,
she emerged.
We all leapt and yelled and cheered,
arms around each other.
Best day of my life, truth be told.
I never remember feeling so--
[keystrokes clicking]
[Iris] [normally] Excited, proud.
The pupil has labeled it as, wait for it...
[click]
Deep. [sighs]
[woman's voice] Invigorated.
[Hiram] One must be gentle with the pupil, all right?
Actually, there's a wistfulness in her voice.
Not in what she's saying, but how she's saying it.
Sadness for a time that was.
Intonation, pauses between words,
anything that implies intent.
[Hiram] We'll get there.
We'll just break it down into different layers.
[Iris] Let's kick it up a notch.
We need to stop calling it the pupil.
We want this thing to read and write human emotions.
We have to start treating it like a human.
Hiris? Iram?
How about Cassandra?
[Hiram] Sounds Greek. Possibly tragic, too.
[keys tapping]
The prophet that lied?
Or at least everybody thought she did?
How about Model C? Emcee?
Emcee. That works for me.
Done.
[Hiram] Uh, now what was it? The wistfulness?
Yeah, towards the end there.
[garbled voice rewinding]
[woman's voice] We all leapt and yelled and cheered,
arms around each other.
-[Iris] There. -[garbled voice rewinding]
[woman's voice] Cheered, arms around each other.
Human connection.
Doesn't get more wistful than that.
[newscaster in background]
[newscaster] Still trying to verify...
[continues indistinctly]
Verhoeven, who is a citizen of Germany,
became head of the intergovernmental agency
less than a year ago.
[Georges] Over 70 million refugees worldwide.
[Sean] Another dog-whistler going down?
[Iris] It's a fake.
[Sean] Yeah? How do you know?
Just a hunch.
Hunch.
I'm talking a kind of carnage yet to be seen.
You reap what you sow.
[electronic chime]
Hey, Lief?
[posh English accent] Do you think I could pass
for a posh girl?
You know, like if I say "kittens" or "water."
Water.
Quite marvelous.
Less emphasis on the I might help.
As in PRIV-uh-see.
-[Iris] PRIV-uh-see? -Mm.
Or ahd-VER-tis-ment. -[Iris] ahd-VER-tis-ment.
-[phone chimes] -[keyboard tapping]
[sighs]
[softly] PRIV-uh-see, ahd-VER-tis-ment.
♪ ♪
[woman's voice] Nobody thought she could pull it off.
There we all stood waiting,
Freezing our bloody knickers off,
eyes on the sea, when lo and behold--
[keystroke clicks]
[Iris] [normally] Tone is right.
There's still no sense of circumstance or environment.
[sighs]
When the woman in the original recording
said the word "freezing,"
you could tell that she'd been there, the history of it.
This just sounds like she's repeating a line back to us.
No offense, Emcee.
[Hiram] You just called it a voice assistant.
-How dare you. -[chuckles]
[Hiram] Well, we could try bigger inputs.
You know, audiobooks, podcasts. Whatever, really.
What about the archival audio that came in?
I bet old radio plays
would have a ton of emotional valence.
[Hiram] Yeah, true. Why not?
And while we're at it,
I think that we need to diversify our inputs.
We have a lot of Brits.
I think we need to change it up a little bit.
It's a lot of Brits?
Look, playscript for a really good simulation
needs to be adaptive.
So what's it gonna be?
Uh, night shift
or proper, sit-down dinner?
I actually, um, can't work late tonight.
[suspenseful music]
But I would love to take this home for the weekend
and work on it,
so if you could shoot me the login to the current version.
I'm pretty sure it won't be accessible
outside of data center.
What'd you need?
[Iris] Uh, the emotion processing module.
♪ ♪
Okay, I'll log you in.
Just between colleagues, though.
Don't quote me on it.
I would never.
Paul?
[Paul breathing hard]
[sighs] This isn't working for me.
Get up.
♪ ♪
Well, can I use my hands? Please?
[Iris] No.
But I thought this is how you wanted it.
Circles around your clit, then sucking it.
♪ ♪
What did I miss? Show me.
I wanna make you squirt.
[Iris] Get up.
But you liked it the last time.
Well, maybe this is what I wanted last time.
And this time, I want something different.
What do you want?
♪ ♪
Go wash your mouth.
Now?
[Iris] Let me smell your breath. Come here.
[exhales lightly]
[Iris] Disgusting. Go to the bathroom.
♪ ♪
Okay.
♪ ♪
[sighs] No one's ever gonna want to be your girlfriend.
♪ ♪
[sighs]
[siren wailing]
[woman on phone] So they did find a mutation
in the APP, um, the amyloid precursor protein.
Did you hear me?
Yeah, I heard you, I just--
I don't even know what that means.
[woman on phone] It means no more fishing in the dark.
Now we know Dad has early-onset Alzheimer's.
[Iris] Wait. Just because somebody has a genetic marker
doesn't mean their symptoms are definitively linked.
[woman on phone] But Iris...
I want to get tested as well.
Why would you do that?
[woman on phone] I mean,
isn't that the responsible thing to do?
If I have it, I'm never having kids.
That sounds dramatic.
And--
[sighs]
I just don't see how knowing would make anything better.
[woman on phone] Well, they already took my blood.
The buck's gotta stop somewhere.
[soft music]
♪ ♪
[mouse clicks]
[computer chimes]
[phone buzzes]
[soft dramatic music]
♪ ♪
[Brett] What the fuck is this, huh?
You were-- you were recording us, huh?
That's illegal.
[Iris, posh English accent] I just turned it on.
[Brett] What the fuck for, huh?
Blackmail? Jesus fucking Christ.
God, Cassie, what is wrong with you?
[panting] What?
♪ ♪
What the fuck for, huh? Blackmail?
Jesus fucking--
♪ ♪
You were recording this, huh? That's illegal.
[Iris] I just turned it on.
[Brett] Jesus fucking Christ.
God, Cassie, what is wrong with you?
♪ ♪
[Iris] You mad now?
♪ ♪
[Rupert] How do you do?
Cassie, I presume?
[Iris, normally] Rupert?
Very pleased to meet you.
And I really must say, well, this is quite the surprise.
Insisting on picking you up, I hope,
didn't raise any eyebrows?
As gallantry shouldn't.
♪ ♪
It indicates that you are a proper gentleman.
[Rupert] That's very kind of you to say so.
[Iris] Believe or not,
I like to know who I'm getting into cars with.
[Rupert] Use it wisely.
♪ ♪
[indistinct chatter]
[Howie] How many variables are you looking at, ballpark?
[Hiram] The spectrum of human emotions,
from basic to blended, to combinant,
around 34,000.
♪ ♪
[Hiram] So we have an image processing pipeline,
the emotional classifier, the NLP classifier,
all working on a shared database
replicated across several data centers.
We've broken down the NLP into sizeable chunks.
Yes, the system's pretty good at producing raw speech,
but it just doesn't carry that emotional cadence.
So how do we turn unstructured sets
into something that's scalable
and how do we actually, you know, scale it?
Why don't we start using adversarial training
to create image-based sets?
Sorry, um, what is adversarial training?
Generative adversarial networks, GANs.
Large batches of data, synthesized and re-rendered
until they're indistinguishable from the real thing.
[table tennis ball tapping]
♪ ♪
[voices murmuring]
[ping pong ball bouncing echoes]
[uneasy music]
♪ ♪
[Iris] So it's kind of like a deepfake?
Same principle.
It's like pitting one AI against a copy of itself.
One of them generates the data
and the other points at where it's glitchy.
One side says, "Hey, look at this."
and the other side says, "Not good enough, try harder."
Then it keeps going round and round
until original and sim are indistinguishable.
♪ ♪
You enjoying this?
They're beautiful.
Mm.
Like dancers.
Indeed.
Would you excuse me for one moment?
What would you like? More of the same?
Oh, you know me too well.
♪ ♪
I love you.
♪ ♪
I love you, too.
♪ ♪
[indistinct chatter]
Let her play with herself. See what happens.
[Howie] Oh, it's a she, you think?
[Maurus] We'll let her decide,
you know, when she's old enough.
♪ ♪
[Sean] Iris?
Iris?
[indistinct chatter]
Hello.
Iris Stanton, getting a refill.
You know, I thought it was you.
Well, that makes two of us.
[Sean] Work or play?
An old friend invited me, and I just couldn't say no.
[both chuckle]
Wheels are always spinning, aren't they?
[Iris] So true.
[Sean] Well, it was nice running into you.
It's great running into you.
[uneasy music]
♪ ♪
[muffled, echoing sounds]