Pages

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Finding Love in the Age of Digital Reproduction

StarGazer



        Every so often, there comes along a cinematic voice so distinctive, so brazenly talented you can’t imagine what the movie world would look like without it. Despite having only four feature-length films under his belt, Spike Jonze has made a persuasive argument that he deserves a place within that elite group, emerging as one of the best directors of the past decade. His past work has been characterized not only by its originality and a preoccupation with existential musings, but also by rare emotional sensitivity, a keen eye for the nuances of human thought and feeling, and his newest effort is no different. Unfurling like a sublime, whispered daydream, Her uses the story of a depressed, soon-to-be-divorced letter writer who develops a close relationship with his newly-acquired personal operating system to explore the thrill of falling in love, the pain of letting go, and the ways in which technology has changed how people connect with each other and understand themselves, for better or worse.

        Meet Theodore Twombly. He’s a middle-aged writer for a company that composes personal letters for people who, for whatever reason, don’t want to do it themselves. With a thick mustache covering his upper lip and a pair of large, plastic-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, Theodore displays such acuity and honest affection in his letters that a colleague (played by Parks and Recreation’s Chris Pratt, endearing as always) regularly compliments him on his work. Yet, when it comes to understanding the intricacies of his own life and relationships, he’s at a complete loss. One of the reasons his wife Catherine left him is his inability to communicate and open up about his innermost thoughts and fears. Joaquin Phoenix, his uncannily clear gray eyes constantly caught between a smile and tears, slides into the role with such apparent ease that it’s tempting to overlook just how impressive his modestly soulful performance really is. Frequently the only person occupying a scene, he carries the movie on his hunched shoulders and serves as the audience’s chief human connection to Jonze’s sleek yet distant futuristic world. The director regularly shoots him in tight close-ups, allowing us to appreciate every facet of Phoenix’s embodiment of quiet, aching loneliness. Instead of cutting himself off and wallowing in the self-pitying moodiness that too often characterizes cinematic loners, Phoenix becomes an open book and makes each thought and emotion accessible, an almost painfully relatable Everyman.


        Desperate for romance and intimacy, Theodore finds both in the most unconventional place possible: a personalized, artificially intelligent operating system named Samantha. Jonze could have taken this human-falls-in-love-with-computer premise in practically any direction, from merely putting a spin on an otherwise cookie-cutter romantic comedy to an absurdist satire or dystopian cautionary tale, but instead, he opts for the rather formidable challenge of mixing philosophical meditation with a romantic drama that has its fair share of funny moments but is mostly played straight. The result feels like a close cousin of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind or Lost in Translation, the latter of which was perhaps not-so-coincidentally made by Jonze’s ex Sofia Coppola and makes an excellent double-feature companion.

        Because Theodore’s relationship with his OS has to feel utterly believable in order to make any of the project work, the casting of Samantha’s voice was pivotal, and thankfully, Scarlett Johansson turns out to be an inspired, pitch-perfect fit. Boasting a warm, textured voice that crackles with energy and pure feeling, Johansson expands any preconceptions of what a voice-only performance can achieve and arguably steals the film – no simple feat, considering the excellence of Phoenix as well as the rest of the supporting cast, particularly a wonderfully down-to-earth Amy Adams in the best friend role and Rooney Mara, who turns Catherine into a fully-realized character despite very limited screen time. Even though she never physically appears, Johansson has such a strong, vibrant presence that it takes no imagination at all to understand why Theodore falls in love with her. When he says he can feel Samantha in the room with him, we believe him without hesitation, and a sex scene that could’ve come off as unintentionally comical instead turns into one of the movie’s most profound, soul-bearing moments. The chemistry that develops between Phoenix and Johansson must be significantly attributed to editors Jeff Buchanan and Eric Zumbrunnen and the sound department, since Samantha Morton was actually originally cast in the role and voiced the OS during filming, but this fact does nothing to reduce how tangible the actors’ bond feels. As their relationship blossoms and morphs, bursting with a liveliness and fresh-faced clarity rarely found in onscreen romances, it works its way under your skin until you feel like you’re a part of it too.

        In addition to depicting a unique, honest love story, Her stands out for evoking a future that feels entirely possible. However, it never presents the ubiquitous presence of digital technology as a definitively good or bad prospect, taking a more reasoned approach at a time when the world seems infatuated with the extremes of a utopia or the apocalypse. Jonze allows the audience to project their own anxieties, hopes and dreams onto his vision, and the effect is a work that becomes more personal than political as he questions the nature of emotions, relationships and humanity itself. As an experienced music video director, he proves to be an expert at melding visuals and sound to generate a specific ambiance, just as he did with Where the Wild Things Are. In this case, Arcade Fire’s dreamy, atmospheric score, which incorporates both stripped-down acoustic elements and more rhythmic, electronic beats in an auditory tug-of-war that echoes the narrative’s real versus virtual world conflict, flawlessly enhances the pensive but ultimately joyous tone of the movie.

        With Her, Spike Jonze cements his reputation as one of the most thoughtful, inventive and exciting filmmakers around. He’s a creator of universes that are one-of-a-kind but feel universal while we’re in them, that manage to be as cerebral as they are affecting, that revel in the contradictions and infinite complexities of the characters at their center, characters who feel so alive even if they aren’t technically living. I already can’t wait to see what he has in store for us next.                                
                 



Photo Link:

No comments:

Post a Comment