REVIEW: For the love of 'Her'

Love is a crazy thing to do. But does it make us freaks? No. It makes us human. And in a world where machines “hand-write” our most sincere love letters and operating systems can get aroused, love is perhaps the only thing that makes us truly in-touch with our humanity, but it is also the one that scares us the most.

“Her” dwells in the idea of how love can exist in a technologically-dependent world, and constructs a gentle and emotive science fiction story to support it. Directed by Spike Jonze (Being John Malcovich, Adaptation), the film benefits from the haunting performances of its stellar cast and a soundtrack that elevates the film into a poetic vehicle of sadness (credits go to Arcade Fire’s amazing compositions).

We follow the story of Theodore Twombly (played by Joaquin Phoenix), a man who makes a living out of speaking to a computer as it writes down love letters for different people. His is a soulful man, and he finds relief in every letter he creates. But like everyone else, Theodore is lonely. He laments his failed marriage and tries to fill the void by partaking in depressing bouts of phone sex with strangers. Things turn around when he purchases a highly-intuitive artificial intelligence that serves as his computer’s operating system.

After a brief system set-up, an OS named Samantha (voiced by Scarlett Johansson) becomes a part of Theodore’s life. She abides by his every wish and understands his quirks like she understands his hard drive. Samantha’s insatiable curiosity – complemented by Theodore’s desperate need for affection – eventually leads to something called, well… love. And things start to flourish as a flower would bloom in spring, but inevitably leads to uncharted realms of winter.

Through Theodore and Samantha’s unconventional bond, Jonze magnificently shows us how love grows from the ground up. From the perspective of a computer that has no initial idea of what love is, we witness it develop human emotions simply by learning about the person it is connected to. It’s genius, really. How such simple placement of characters and scenarios reveal a truth that is utterly familiar, despite being set in a fictional universe.

Phoenix a Theodore fills every frame with honesty, displaying a deeply flawed human being who wants nothing to do with confronting reality. Love makes us feel like kings, but also makes us walk a tight rope. And Theodore wants none of that.

Johansson finally comes out of her shell and delivers an award-worthy performance as Samantha. Her often over-looked talents shine as her voluptuous body becomes absent from the screen. We get to see (or hear) Samantha evolve, and Johansson incredibly pulls it off just by using her voice.
And in another nuanced performance, Amy Adams (as Amy) delivers a pitch-perfect supporting role as she provides dimensions to Theodore’s character. She also delivers the dialogue that serves as the film’s very soul: “Falling in love is kinda like a form of socially accepted insanity.”

And that is what makes “Her” as perfect of a film as any film could possibly get. It is inventive but it runs on an honest narrative. Jonze is a budding master of melancholy, and he gets to deliver a meditative drama that is as gentle as a whisper but as agonizing as a splinter to your heart. He uses a beautifully-rendered pastel colored Los Angeles to explore the subtleties of an unchecked lifestyle. And only in Jonze’s world do we see a piano composition become a photograph, but at the same time see love as it takes its first strides, until it finally gets put down to rest. It is a sad, sad film – but it is a comforting kind of sadness. And aping Albert Camus’ famous line, this film shines with mournful solace. 

And if such things can truly bring us closer to ourselves as human beings, then I say this film nails it a hundred times over.