Maybe this is only the case because I am friends with cineastes who stand their ground when it comes to a most loved or most hated movie, but I have never seen a movie create such a divide between friends (and critics) as Spike Jonze's Her did. I was skeptical about the premise at first, like most people, but as soon as it was over I knew I had just seen a movie that would change film and become of my favorites of all time. It warranted another viewing. And another. I saw it four times in theaters before I realized I probably needed to hit the brakes, and it was then that I brought it up to my friends. Half of them agreed, it was profound. Brilliant. Touching. The other half hated it. Maybe more than hated it, they thought that Theodore Twombly was repulsive, and the whole movie had an unshakable creepiness to it. I was upset about this, and not because my friends didn't share my taste in movies (your favorite movie could be The Room and it still wouldn't change how I see you as a person), but because their disgust towards Theodore, a character I related to on a very deep and personal level, felt like disgust towards me. But I do understand where the hate for Her comes from. American humorist Finley Peter Dunne once said: "Art should comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable", and Her does just that. For the well-adjusted, the uncomfortable, and those who hate the film for some other unlisted reason, I have some explanation as to why I adore it so much.
Before plot, before character, before underlying messages, let's discuss setting. Her takes place in a not-so-distant futuristic version of Los Angeles, but it's unlike anything seen before. Upon its release, Ridley Scott's Blade Runner was lauded for the way it portrayed futuristic homes, retrofitting old models instead of building wholly new ones, and Her is just as inventive with its design. The future Theodore finds himself in is a warm one, closer to a sunny utopia than a robotic dystopia. This aesthetic is conjured up from a combination of a solely warm color palette (blue was intentionally left out), aerial shots of shanghai, and nostalgic style, from the 70's furniture to the clothing choices. Jonze’s vision of the future is so familiar, so comforting, that as the movie progresses, the more and more it seems like we're already living there.
Enter Samantha, the love interest in this new-age romance. For the purposes of the movie, she exists, but to what extent she is human is something more to be explored. Though the main focus of the movie is the progression of the relationship between Samantha and Theodore, she undergoes some evolutionary changes herself. In the beginning, she is upset that she lacks the thing she believes will make her human- a body. When talking with Theodore, she wistfully asks him: “What’s it like to be alive in that room right now?”. Later, she introduces a beautiful surrogate named Isabella, who is meant to be Samantha's earthly presence, but the night ends in disaster, as these things only can. She grows jealous when Theodore visits his ex-wife for a bitter lunch. When we are first introduced to Samantha, she is insecure. And really, perhaps that's why her relationship with Theodore is able to blossom- because she's dependent on him. But, like in any relationship, the people within it grow and change, and Samantha is no exception. She develops a life outside of the man who has literally introduced to the world, even creating friends like philosopher Alan Watts, who makes a brief cameo. Whether it's in her programming or in some newfound spirit, Samantha isn't made to be emotionally stagnant. Her wonder about the world, once naive, is what makes her human. She has a need, she says, to read the spaces between the words, to find new realms of communication. And so ends her connection to Theodore, in a split that lacks sting, but is full of realism.
Before plot, before character, before underlying messages, let's discuss setting. Her takes place in a not-so-distant futuristic version of Los Angeles, but it's unlike anything seen before. Upon its release, Ridley Scott's Blade Runner was lauded for the way it portrayed futuristic homes, retrofitting old models instead of building wholly new ones, and Her is just as inventive with its design. The future Theodore finds himself in is a warm one, closer to a sunny utopia than a robotic dystopia. This aesthetic is conjured up from a combination of a solely warm color palette (blue was intentionally left out), aerial shots of shanghai, and nostalgic style, from the 70's furniture to the clothing choices. Jonze’s vision of the future is so familiar, so comforting, that as the movie progresses, the more and more it seems like we're already living there.
Enter Samantha, the love interest in this new-age romance. For the purposes of the movie, she exists, but to what extent she is human is something more to be explored. Though the main focus of the movie is the progression of the relationship between Samantha and Theodore, she undergoes some evolutionary changes herself. In the beginning, she is upset that she lacks the thing she believes will make her human- a body. When talking with Theodore, she wistfully asks him: “What’s it like to be alive in that room right now?”. Later, she introduces a beautiful surrogate named Isabella, who is meant to be Samantha's earthly presence, but the night ends in disaster, as these things only can. She grows jealous when Theodore visits his ex-wife for a bitter lunch. When we are first introduced to Samantha, she is insecure. And really, perhaps that's why her relationship with Theodore is able to blossom- because she's dependent on him. But, like in any relationship, the people within it grow and change, and Samantha is no exception. She develops a life outside of the man who has literally introduced to the world, even creating friends like philosopher Alan Watts, who makes a brief cameo. Whether it's in her programming or in some newfound spirit, Samantha isn't made to be emotionally stagnant. Her wonder about the world, once naive, is what makes her human. She has a need, she says, to read the spaces between the words, to find new realms of communication. And so ends her connection to Theodore, in a split that lacks sting, but is full of realism.
By deconstructing the relationship with his ex-wife Sofia Coppola, and perhaps every relationship he has ever been a part of, Jonze is able to ask the questions needed in an inward-turning world. Does having a body make you human? Or is it all in our brains? Is artificial intelligence really so artificial? The relationship is real enough to make us ask what really defines that word 'relationship', and if the coming of new technologies will change the way we interact (or don’t) with one another. |
That's what's going on onscreen, but offscreen, things are just as important. Joaquin Phoenix has always held a special place in my heart, but it wasn't until 2012 that I would consider him one of the best actors of our time. He was critically acclaimed for his performance as psychotic drunk Freddie Quell in Paul Thomas Anderson's The Master, but in a complete turnaround, he is just as compelling here. There is such a genuine happiness about Theodore, such a genuine warmth when he's happy, and such a relatable and often-felt loneliness when he is hurt. Scarlett Johansson is the voice of Samantha, and she’s an absolute standout as well. She manages to be funny and sexy and wonderful, using only her voice and never appearing on screen. What makes her performance doubly remarkable is the fact that she wasn’t on set at all; the original voice of the OS was done by Samantha Morton who was replaced last minute. Johansson had to come in and make her line readings work, not just dramatically, but in conjunction with the rhythm of what Phoenix had already done, which was all in response to Morton. That makes Johansson’s performance not just great on a basic level, but on a technical level.
All of this amounts to a movie I could literally talk for hours about, a movie that has moved me like no other, and a movie that I love deeply, but not a movie that I find creepy. Everyone in Her- yes, everyone, even the background actors on the subway, even mustachioed Chris Pratt and frizzed-out Amy Adams- is looking for acceptance. Everyone is looking to make a connection, but when they try and fail (as we all have) with the people around them, they become discouraged and turn in towards themselves, towards technology. Theodore's relationship with Samantha, and even his hilarious attempt at phone sex/masturbation aren't creepy, they're a little awkward & funny at times, but at a base level, they're about his need to connect with another being, human or otherwise.
All of this amounts to a movie I could literally talk for hours about, a movie that has moved me like no other, and a movie that I love deeply, but not a movie that I find creepy. Everyone in Her- yes, everyone, even the background actors on the subway, even mustachioed Chris Pratt and frizzed-out Amy Adams- is looking for acceptance. Everyone is looking to make a connection, but when they try and fail (as we all have) with the people around them, they become discouraged and turn in towards themselves, towards technology. Theodore's relationship with Samantha, and even his hilarious attempt at phone sex/masturbation aren't creepy, they're a little awkward & funny at times, but at a base level, they're about his need to connect with another being, human or otherwise.