As a grammarian, I commend Spike Jonze for using the objective case to name his comedy Her, because this futuristic tale, about a man who falls in love with his computer’s artificially intelligent operating system, is preoccupied with the old subject-object relationship. The subject is Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix), a lonely bachelor in a Los Angeles of the near future; his bland, bespectacled face, lit by icy blue eyes and bisected by a cheesy Tom Selleck moustache, fills the screen in gigantic close-ups. My own reaction to the movie was strongly subjective; it didn’t do much for me though it was well made and obviously would be a big zeitgeist favorite. With its story of a man giving in to digital solipsism, Her clearly captures the tenor of the times. But for me the ultimate test is whether a movie also transcends them.
According to Rotten Tomatoes—which aggregates hundreds of opinions, purees them, and serves them up as a pleasing bisque—Her is “94 percent fresh.” So why can’t I get with the program? Maybe it’s a class thing. The movie takes place in the cool, clean, modern LA of the upper middle class; I’ll never figure out how Theodore affords his deluxe space-age pad, with its dazzling view of the downtown skyline, when he earns his wage writing fake letters. Or maybe it’s a Chicago thing. Having lived here most of my life, I’m accustomed to a world of greed, graft, and long workdays; I love LA, but the people seem so laid-back that they can barely engage with one another. Or maybe it’s a generational thing. Most people who’ve gushed to me about Her have been younger than I am, and some can barely remember a time when life wasn’t measured in keystrokes and mouse clicks.
Directed by Spike Jonze
