Her is one of the best experiences I’ve had at a theatre in a long time.
I was sold on the trailer instantly: directed by Spike Jonze (Adaptation, Being John Malkovich) with a score by Arcade Fire? Sign me up.
Coming out of the theatre with my friend Greg, we both had those big goofy smiles you get when you’ve had an experience that makes you inexplicably happy.
Her is one of those few movies that is able to fill me with joy afterwards, because the beauty and brokenness within cause me to turn my face heavenward.
If there were more movies like this playing in theatres, I’d be broke.
Set in near-future L.A., we meet our endearing (disconcertingly so) protagonist Theodore Twombly, a man whose job it is to “write” letters for people, usually for couples. He’s a broken man going through a divorce, and can’t quite fit people into his life, except for awkward interactions at work and occasional visits with his best friend Amy.
He jokingly says he would go out more if he weren’t too busy playing video games and watching porn. Amy retorts, “That would be funny if it weren’t true.” Theodore laughs it off, but it’s a key moment for the film: he is a sad, lonely man who doesn’t know how to function anymore.
On a whim after seeing an advertisement, he buys a copy of OS1, the world’s first intelligent Operating System. His OS is named Samantha. And they fall in love. Most of the movie revolves around their relationship; it’s not played for laughs – it’s real, even if it grows complicated.
It brings to mind a whole host of other films: Upstream Color, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Ruby Sparks, Certified Copy. Movies that use a slight sci-fi premise to explore deeper questions about what it means to be human. About what it means to love someone.
Her questions what makes a relationship genuine. If Theodore is happy, then does it matter if he’s dating an incorporeal voice built by programmers? As Theodore’s divorced wife Catherine calls out, “You’re dating your computer?”
The film doesn’t condemn technology, but questions how long a relationship built around non-physical contact can survive. Theodore’s relationship with Samantha helps him to move on and get his life in order again — he feels alive because he knows that “someone” is in love with him.
But how long can it last? Imagine courting someone long distance, perpetually. It’s a little weird at first perhaps, but then soon you get to know the person, laugh with this person, and understand him or her. Still, however good it feels or looks from the outside, it’s not a long-term substitute for an in-person relationship.
Her goes far beyond the static experience of sitting in the dark while light flickers into our eyes. Its beauty inspires something far more precious than good conversation: it awakens a deep longing. It might even instil a sense of wonder and an aching for a beauty that is unrealized in this life. God only knows what we’re missing.
As C.S. Lewis writes in The Great Divorce: “The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing.”
So in light of this, Her reminds me that there is no perfect relationship.
There’s no way any person can carry the burden of lifting one’s loneliness or inadequacy. It’s only a pale imitation of the God who has already carried our burden.
