WALL-E opens deep in outer space, and as the camera draws closer to Earth, sinister

music accompany and highlight the cosmos, galaxies, and stars. This music also
amplifies our view of Earth from space. But as we get closer to the landmasses and
oceans of Earth, they are obscured by brown and gray floating masses of space
garbage that become clearer as the shot moves toward a cityscape piled with
skyscrapers built from trash.
The portrayal of humans in the film Wall-E is unflattering, a representation that is
comedic in its extremity and absurdity. Each individual sits in his or her own hovering
recliner with a holographic screen directly in front of him or her. Without so much as
lifting an arm or turning a head, the resident-passengers of the Axiom can interact, feed
and entertain themselves, all from the comfort of this physical arrangement, with a broad
spectrum of artificial intelligence acting as its prime facilitators. Ironically, in this ultimate
stage of convenience, the level of ease with which these displaced Earthlings live makes
them fully dependent on the robots and computers that have been constructed to serve
them.
Beneath this facade of a obese and infantile human race is a drastic reordering of the
social structure in which we currently live. It is the exaggerated extension of our current
consumer-driven lifestyle whereby convenience and complacency have supplanted
personal liberty. The residents of the Axiom are happily unaware of this arrangement,
waking up only when their robotic servants attempt to prevent them from returning to
Earth. Technology has made humans much lazier than before, this is when people in
the movie can get food from the hover chairs and pretty much live their life in them.