Brian and Charles Imagines an Optimistic Future for AI

Cowriter Chris Hayward finds most real-life robots terrifying. But if the future looks like the film's sentient droid, he says, “we'll be fine.”
David Earl  and Chris Hayward  playfully fighting with sticks in Welsh countryside landscape
Courtesy of Focus Features

In the era of robot dogs and jocked-up AI machines doing shudder-inducing feats of parkour, sometimes it’s comforting to consider a potential future where bots are just warm, squishy friends, or—better yet—a future where they all look like Charles from Brian and Charles.

Standing about 7 feet tall and with a boxy abdomen that’s made of what seems to be a washing machine, Charles trots around the Welsh countryside like a newborn foal, as content with a plate of boiled cabbage as most of us would be with a seven-course dinner. His creation comes when Brian (played by writer David Earl), experiencing a bout of depression, decides to take a wack at inventing something new. Lightning strikes—perhaps literally—and Brian and Charles’ lives are changed forever.

As Brian and Charles hits cinemas, WIRED caught up with Earl and cowriter Chris Hayward to talk about optimism, character comedy, and how the pair worked to find the intersection of American Movie and AI.

WIRED: David, you've been doing the Brian character for some time, though he's gone through some changes and tweaks over the years. How would you describe where he is in this film emotionally and mentally?

David Earl: He's always come up with silly ideas. When I did him live, he'd come up with jokes, but the jokes were a bit wonky and didn't quite work. Now, it's the same in that he's building inventions that aren't quite right and aren't quite working. In this film, he's just a bit more likable, and maybe a bit more lovable. We tried to make the film more accessible.

When I played him in comedy clubs, I would be a little bit more bristly, a bit more defensive. In the film, he's a bit more likable, hopefully.

He is, and he's a little sad too. Not in a bad way, but in a way viewers can relate to, because that loneliness is very real.

Earl: But it is positive! He's always looking on the bright side, all the time.

He has a level of confidence in his own creations that I think anyone would admire. How do you relate to that?

Earl: When we were writing it, we looked at some documentaries, like American Movie, which is my favorite movie. In that, it's just about [Mark Borchardt's] determination to get films made. Maybe they didn't turn out very well, but he got it done. So there's definitely an influence on Brian there.

There was another one called Monster Road about a recluse who made these little clay models.

I feel like if you're ever creating anything, most things you make aren't very good, or they at least have the potential to be appalling. So you're always treading that fine line whenever you come up with something new.

Brian and Charles first came to life a few years ago as a short film. Where did the idea of Charles come from?

Chris Hayward: David was doing Brian as a stand-up character, and he had a little internet radio show where people would call in and he would talk with them. Our friend Rupert [Majendie] called in, but he didn't talk. He used this computer software where he would type in what he wanted to say and it would read it out in various strange voices. One of the voices was the voice of Charles.

I was listening to it—we were all friends at that point—and their dialog was so funny that we talked about doing it as a live show. I had no idea how I could build the robot costume, but for a few years we did it as a live gig at comedy shows where I'd been in the Charles costume talking to Brian, and Rupert would be typing the dialog.

We just did that for fun, while hoping it took off in some way. It didn't, so we ended up making the short film. That eventually led to the feature, but it was a long process.

How does it work on set? You're working from a script. Is Rupert still sitting there on the side with a keyboard hitting cues?

Hayward: All of Charles' dialog in the script was prerecorded. When we were doing scenes indoors, Rupert could trigger the dialog. He could also improvise if we were doing an improvised scene.

If we were filming outside, I would say the dialog, because we couldn't get the laptop to work outside. So I'd have to either memorize the dialog, or sometimes we'd improvise little scenes. Then, in post, we could mess around with Charles' dialog, which meant we could tweak all the lines, or we could change them completely. That gave us a lot of freedom to finesse.

How did you tweak Charles for the movie? He looks a little different than he has in the past. What's new about Charles 2.0?

Hayward: For the original one, I just bought one head on eBay, and because we've done a lot of live gigs, after three years, he was looking sort of bashed.

We needed to get about four heads all together for his various incarnations in the film, so the first problem was finding these heads, because I just got this one about seven years earlier. [Director] Jim [Archer] was scouring the internet looking for these heads, which was mad, but he finally tracked them down.

When they turned up, though, they actually came from America and they looked slightly different. They were more handsome and more tanned, and they had sort of pink lips. It was sort of Charles, but it was like the Hollywood version, so that's what we went with.

So many things in the movie are never really addressed, which makes it slightly magical. Like, we don't really know how Charles came to life or how he eats his beloved cabbages. How did you decide not to explain anything?

Hayward: Well, when we first see Charles coming alive, for instance, we wanted the lightning to be a bit of a red herring. There's also the idea that Mr. Williams, the mouse, had got inside Charles' head.

We actually filmed a scene that had the mouse coming out of Charles' mouth, but it looked so revolting. It looks like Raiders of the Lost Ark where a python comes out of the skull. It looked so grotesque that we thought, "Well, this isn't the comedic effect we're going for." So that's why we have Brian explain what happened.

Earl: Brian hasn't got a clue how it happens.

Hayward: It doesn't really matter if it's a mouse. He's not even sure how it happened himself.

Well, just because the mouse made the electricity work doesn't explain how Brian learned how to do AI programming.

Earl: Yeah, we don't want that thread to be pulled.

Why is Charles what Brian needs during the movie and why is Brian what Charles needs?

Hayward: Initially, Brian is slightly in denial, because he says he's building a robot just to help around the house and lift things. We know, though, that he's clearly alone, but he would never acknowledge it. He might not even know it, but he clearly is. So he's building Charles kind of as a friend.

It does seem to help him grow up, or to become more emboldened.

Hayward: He does become more responsible. If you have kids, you do become more responsible. It makes you grow up. And I don't want to get into spoilers, but it also makes him stand up for himself and have more confidence to talk to people.

Has working on Brian and Charles for so many years made you two think more about AI? Have you learned about it? Do you have thoughts about the joys or dangers?

Hayward: I regularly look at AI things, and for the most part it terrifies me. When I look at those robots ... there's a video of these massive robots doing parkour and I watch it and I just think, "Those things could be hammering my door down at some point in the future and marching us all down the streets." Whenever I hear about robots, it's all like, "Oh, we're gonna put weapons on drones now," and you go, "Oh, OK."

I mean, if the culmination of AI is Charles, we'll be fine, because we can just push those robots over. But I'm more worried about those robot dogs that I've seen on videos walking around, trying to attack.

They really are terrifying. If they made them look like Charles, we'd all be on board, but instead they just look like war machines.

Hayward: Exactly. It's those weird dogs that walk with their arms bent. It's like, "What? What is that? Why have you made that? What's it gonna do?"

Earl: I just put my head in the sand. I don't know about any of that.

Playing one character over the course of many years isn't something that we necessarily see a lot of in the States, though it does happen. The tradition is stronger in the UK, where a character can live over multiple projects and decades.

What do you think keeps calling you back to Brian? Do you have him mastered, or are you still trying to figure him out?

Earl: I think it's just finding a project. When we were writing this, After Life came at the same time, and I didn't really think into the future. Eighteen months down the line, both projects have come out at the same time and they both have the same character. I really didn't think ahead.

It's always been just wanting to find a project to put Brian in. I wanted to find a story to plunk him in. Also, now, I just find it really easy to slip into those mannerisms and react to other characters and robots. It's like a habit.

Is there a germ of you in Brian? Is Brian just an enhanced or downgraded or parallel version of you?

Earl: I don't know what Brian is, because there have been so many different incarnations. He's gone from shy to rough and aggressive to jokey. I don't know what he is.

So, I have to ask, how does the Charles costume actually work? It seems obvious looking at it, but what is it like inside?

Hayward: So, it's a reinforced cardboard box. The mannequin head is on a stick that you pick litter with, and the picking bit is the mouth. I operate the head with one hand, and my other arm is sticking out the side. So I've got one arm that I can move and the other is false.

I also put a big set of armor on my shins, like a knight's armor on my legs to give a bit of a joint on the knees. We're always trying to make the legs look less human. So I had to wear big puffy trousers and put bits of metal wherever we could to try and make it look less like my spindly legs. Along with the blue eye, there you go, that's Charles.

Earl: We always wanted the audience to go "Well, that's just a bloke in a box." It's just about the cheekiness.