‘Sometimes I think I have felt everything I’m ever gonna feel…’
One of the great things about cinema is that while the films themselves ostensibly don’t change, their impact does. The first time I saw Spike Jonze’s seminal classic Her I wrote quite a snarky, dismissive review comparing it unfavourably to both Lars and the Real Girl and Ruby Sparks. On this second viewing, Her is the same film now as it was when I left it in 2013. The difference is that with the benefit of hindsight and some more life experience, I have come to enjoy it much more than I did the first time around…
Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix) is a good-natured but desperately lonely writer who has never recovered from the breakdown of his relationship with his ex-wife and childhood sweetheart Katherine (Rooney Mara). Set in a near-future Los Angeles, technology has developed to the point in which Twombly can purchase an AI companion (voiced by Scarlett Johansson) and the two quickly fall in love. Amy Adams, Olivia Wilde and a fresh-faced Chris Pratt make up the talented supporting cast.
The first thing that struck me on this second viewing is just how prescient the film has become. While this concept seemed far-fetched in 2013, it now feels not just possible but inevitable. Jonze clearly had the foresight to see where AI was heading and in that respect, the film works as a great companion piece to Alex Garland’s AI fable Ex Machina (also released in 2013).
In a society that has never been more fractured and hostile, Theodore Twombly has become an unlikely spokesman for a generation plagued by uncertainty. Phoenix is typically sensational, bringing an authentic humanity to a character that so easily could have become caricature. It’s a tender, layered performance made all the more impressive by the fact that he is essentially the only person on screen for large swathes of the film. The supporting cast are great also with Pratt more restrained (and therefore funnier) than his more recent crowd-pleasing roles and Adams adept at portraying a deep sadness without having to say any of it out loud. Arcade Fire‘s subtle score also fits perfectly as well as Karen O’s beautiful contribution The Moon Song. Johansson also excels in the thankless task of bringing a character to life without the benefit of an onscreen visual presence.
Her is a film that understands how it feels to be ageing on the scrap heap. It’s a film that understands the siren song of loneliness and the insidious comfort of routine whilst also forcing the audience to consider what the hell we are doing with all this AI nonsense anyway. As ever, this is another example in which I was wrong. This is a brilliant film.
