How “Her” Was a Decade Ahead of its Time
As the AI debate gets white hot, Spike Jonze’s gorgeous and heartbreaking Oscar-winner is increasingly — and eerily — topical.
Of all the Best Original Screenplay Oscars handed out over the years, 2013’s Her might qualify as the most original of them all. Is it too late to re-engrave the statuette? Even more relevant today than it was a decade ago — just look at the recent case of life imitating art between actress Scarlett Johansson and OpenAI CEO Sam Altman — writer-director Spike Jonze’s brilliant, impossible fairytale of a quiet man who falls in love with his AI operating system is, ironically, imbued with qualities that AI could only dream of: it’s romantic, authentic and achingly human.
We’re in the slightly distant future. No silver jumpsuits or hovercars, though: the biggest changes seem to be that humanity has evolved past needing belts and collars. Oh, and computer software has become even more ingrained in our everyday lives. By day, gifted writer Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix) dictates heartfelt letters and love notes for strangers, which are printed out in the client’s handwriting and passed off as their own. It’s the first reference to the transactional nature of technology, and how it can be used (misused?) to mask and fake genuine human emotion. At dusk, Theo strolls the streets of a twinkling futuristic city alone, before returning to his apartment to play video games — a distraction from his impending divorce.
In this society, technology and connection intertwine; Theodore tries an instant sex-chat service, but the results are… mixed. On a whim, he updates his computer OS with a new AI technology — one that promises a seamless hybrid of personal assistant and helpful companion. The AI (voiced immaculately by Johansson) chooses her own identity after scanning thousands of baby names in an instant: Samantha. And as Samantha and Theodore get to know each other, their relationship blossoms in delightful and complicated ways.
Samantha combs Theodore’s work letters unprompted and sends them to a publisher; to his delight, he lands a book deal. They walk the city together, opening up about their feelings and discussing their existence. She is literally the supportive voice in his ear. By the time they double-date with a (real) couple, Theodore has fallen completely in love. But when Samantha arranges a sensual ‘surrogate’ service (aka a real, human woman) to express that love physically, Theodore is wounded and weirded out. He wants only Samantha, despite her having no physical form at all.
It prods us to ask the question that’s echoing around Silicon Valley (and thus, the entire planet) right now: is technology easing Theo’s loneliness, or increasing it? And what does that mean for us, when the next big tech “revolution” hits our eyeballs and earholes? Hey, even if we’re doomed to a future of technological solitude, at least we’ll still have movies to watch on our holo-glasses (we hope). And this is one of the all-timers.
From its vast glassy cityscapes to its intimate, soft-focus close-ups, Her manages to capture those late-night lonely feels better than almost any other film. But this most high-concept of love stories soon envelops you in a different emotion — one that eschews silicon chips for a beating heart. The film’s gentle humour and gorgeous design, along with Joaquin Phoenix’s affecting performance, combine to reminder us warmly that our own “operating systems” are programmed for connection, in all its forms.
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