December 21, 2013
It may sound like a bad joke to say that the most intimate sex scene of the cinematic year is between a man and his computer, but that is exactly the type of magical web Spike Jonze weaves in his new film, "Her."
The scene features nothing more than a black, existential screen and what you would imagine phone sex between a madly-in-love couple set apart by distance would sound like. Unfortunately for the lovers in this case, that distance can never be lessened.
Theodore Twombly (played by Joaquin Phoenix) is at a lonely crossroads in his life. His appearance is upbeat, consisting of high-waisted pants, brightly colored button downs, thick-rimmed glasses and a caterpillar mustache, yet there is a sadness in his demeanor. For work, he writes beautiful, moving love letters for other people whose relationships he traces. Though his writing reveals his sweet soul, Theo has little use for it in his own life. The nearing end of his relationship and marriage to a woman he grew up and "experienced everything with" has left him pessimistic about life. If he has already experienced everything with Catherine (Rooney Mara, who looks much better with eyebrows), he wonders, won't everything else from this point on be redundant? In reality, the relationship has been over for sometime. All that's left is the signing of the divorce papers; the validation of an end that Theo is not yet ready to accept.
Feeling spontaneous in his mopey boredom, Theo purchases a new, highly advanced operation system. He assigns the system a female voice and soon enough she has given herself a name. "Samantha," (a revelatory Scarlett Johansson) is sweet, bright and witty, and strikes a nerve in Theo. Though he remains stuck in the shadow of his past and is not interested in real women for anything more than bodily urges, Theo's relationship with Samantha is as honest and free-flowing as it is confounding to him. She is constantly evolving and developing a deeper desire to want, feel and experience the world the way humans do, and he, a hopeless dreamer, is looking for new ways to look at the world. He finds just that in Samantha and the two soon find themselves so deeply in love that they are able to make love through nothing more than their voices.
To tell much more of the plot would be to ruin Jonze's wonderfully introspective love story. It is refreshing to see such an unconventional concept treated with the delicacy and skill it deserves. The script, also written by Jonze, is wholly original and often hilarious. It is peppered with social commentary on the possible impact of the new age of technology on humans in the not too distant future (the film keeps a healthy balance between sci-fi and actuality) through the use of things like interactive video games played by Theo.
The film also effectively balances humor with pathos; there are many scenes that at one moment, have you on the verge of laughter, yet remain one cut away from a major emotional revelation. One that jumps out features a surrogate body service for human-operating system relationships. After Samantha experiences some difficulties in her relationship with Theo, some relating to Theo's divorce and others to the physical limitations between the two, she hires a young woman to act as her "body" while the two make love. At first funny, the scene quickly shifts to intensely awkward viewing when Theo finds the experience too weird to go through with and then accidentally reveals reservations he has about the relationship.
Certain parts of the film delve briefly into metaphysical matters (in Samantha's existence and its meaning), but they are largely used as metaphors for cycles of the modern relationship, Jonze's depiction of which is perhaps the most accurate and honest in recent memory; don't be surprised if any or many of the conversations between Theo and Samantha are carbon copies of ones you've had with a significant other. As a result, all of the joy and heartbreak are palpable.
If ever a voice were to be deserving of acting nominations, it would be Johansson's. To be able to carry a scene without actually being seen is at least as difficult than carrying one with just actions and no sound, a favorite of the Academy (I'm looking at you, "The Artist"). The range she is able to cover merely through intonation is deeper than most actors' or actresses' on-screen range.
Phoenix, meanwhile, is as powerful as ever. Some may label him as a tight-cast flawed, wanderer, but a comparison between this role and his previous in last year's "The Master" should quiet such talk. Last year's "Freddie Quell" was a a flawed wanderer indeed, but he was a volatile, rude, often thoughtless damaged soul. In that role, it was Phoenix's intensity coupled with emotional range that brought the performance to into the realm of greatness. Theo, on the other hand, is a thinking man; he is a skilled and poetic writer in addition to a polite and socially comfortable man despite. His flawed wandering stems the vulnerability that the ending of his marriage brings upon him. The characters are similar on a very thin surface layer, but, in fact, could not be more different. Phoenix covers both flawlessly.
Amy Adams, who seemingly can do no wrong of late, has a small role as Theo's longtime best friend and neighbor. Her screen time is brief, but she still remains impressive as a more subtly damaged counterpart to Theo.
Also noteworthy in the film are the score, featuring songs by Arcade Fire (like Supersymmetry, which was written specifically for the film though it appeared on the band's most recent album) and Karen O, and the cinematography, by Hoyte van Hoytema. All of the intangibles help build Jonze's vision of a warm, yet technologically dependent not-so-distance future.
At its core, "Her" is the most intimate, timely romance in many years. It asks many questions of its viewers, perhaps the broadest, yet most important of which is: what makes love? Considering how intimately crafted the chemistry between Theo and Samantha is, it's hard to imagine that Jonze is far off from an answer. (Grade: A+)
