I wouldn't really call this a review. I would say I have an abstract flurry of ideas in my mind and I'm gonna try to shape it into words. I have 696 friends on Facebook. Two of them are my parents. A few hundred are former classmates, most of whom I'll never see again. Many are people I've encountered once, perhaps twice as I've made my way from show to show, event to event. I could count the friends with whom I speak to regularly on one hand. How many of my 696 fiends will read this? Certainly not all. In fact, I'd be surprised to get 10% readership. Despite the proliferation of technology and the constant connectedness available to us 24/7, many people are feeling more and more isolated. This is one of many modern issues at the heart of Spike Jonze's 'Her.' There are several scenes wherein the protagonist Theodore Twombley, masterfully played by Joaquin Phoenix, walks along around a peopled walkway or through a crowded square, and he doesn't so much as look at another human being. They don't look at him either. They're all talking to someone (or something) far, far away via a tiny earpiece ubiquitous in Jonze's world. Their behavior is no different than it would be if they were, in fact, pounding the pavement alone. These scenes are devoid of interpersonal communication as I like to think of it: two people standing fairly close to one another, sharing their feelings with expression and intermittent eye contact.
Twombley, not too unlike myself, only regularly speaks to two people in his life, his best friend Amy (Amy Adams) and Paul(Chris Pratt), his workplace receptionist. When he isn't talking to them, he's amorously gushing over Samantha (Scarlet Johansson), the operating system referred to by the film's succinct title. Their relationship forced me to question what the value of happiness is, and whether or not it detracts from genuine happiness if that happiness is derived from an artificial source. Relationships are often thick, murky, and difficult to navigate through. Perhaps there are certain advantages to be had in relationships free of strife. Free of challenges and disagreements. But can such a relationship be considered real? Is hardship not inherent to any worthwhile relationship?
The technology advancing everyday is supposed to make our lives better, bring us closer to each other, bring us joy. In many ways it does, but it's undeniable that a great deal of social media interaction is impersonal, cold even. Twombley finds warmth in artifice, as that same artifice cuts him off from finding warmth in other people. Certain people balk at Twombley's love, as many today criticize the nature of online interaction. Amy more or less approves of his love, which quickly drew a parallel in my mind to Donald Glover. He argues that the Internet has irreversibly shaped the way in which we deal with one another. He thinks we must accept that and learn to continue to grow and develop in conjunction with it. He hates people who say “Put down your phone and read a book.” I'll save my thoughts on books for another time. But at the end of the day, isn't it more important to really talk to people, to be vulnerable, to subject yourself to the possibility of rejection? How can you really love something when you own it? When it has no ability to run away or to go against you? What happens if the technology we build advances so quickly as to fly past us and leave us in its dust? What are we left with then?
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