Her

[Author: Alessandro De Carli]

From the mind of Spike Jonze comes Her, a film released over a decade ago (back in 2013), but one that today could tell the story of an ordinary man just a few months into the future. It’s becoming increasingly common to find people having intimate conversations with AI or following Instagram channels of AI-generated models with whom they can interact.

The love between a man and artificial intelligence serves as a vehicle for a deeper analysis of highly relevant themes: loneliness, isolation, and the rediscovery of human relationships.

Her tells the story of Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix), a lonely man who, in a near-future world, works writing heartfelt letters on behalf of others. Struggling with the aftermath of his divorce, Theodore finds solace in an operating system equipped with artificial intelligence, named Samantha (voiced by Scarlett Johansson). What begins as a functional interaction soon evolves into an intimate and profound relationship, prompting Theodore to question the nature of love, human connection, and loneliness itself.

Without turning this review into a philosophical essay, it’s worth highlighting the delicacy with which the director handles the complex relationship between Theodore and Samantha. The emotionally charged scenes are often interspersed with close-ups of natural elements, objects, or landscapes: moments of visual pause that invite the audience to reflect and process what they’ve seen. The soundtrack by Arcade Fire perfectly complements this style of storytelling, easing transitions between emotional states.

If the screenplay reflects our current times, the performances are equally remarkable. Joaquin Phoenix delivers one of his most intimate and vulnerable portrayals, embodying Theodore with a masterful balance of melancholy, hope, and confusion. Scarlett Johansson’s voice becomes a character in its own right: she conveys palpable emotions without ever physically appearing on screen.

I must admit that, especially in the Italian version, it was difficult to get used to such a “human” AI voice. While the performance is undeniably emotional, I couldn’t help but think: "There’s no way an AI would really sound like this, with laughs, hesitations, and filler words." But that’s just my personal take—perhaps the future will indeed bring AI communication to such levels.

Every element of the film converges toward a clear goal: to emphasize Theodore’s emotional state. The setting, too, reveals much about the struggles faced by both Theodore and Amy (his friend), who also begins to use an OS as a relational figure. The world around them seems almost oblivious to this phenomenon: the film hints that others use OS systems, but what we see paints a different picture (XXXXXXX). When Theodore believes he has lost Samantha due to an OS update, he is the only one shown to be anxious and distressed. Another symbolic scene is at the beach: while everyone else is surrounded by family or friends, Theodore is the only one clearly conversing with an OS. These moments suggest that those who rely on the OS for companionship are the ones enduring particularly difficult periods in their lives. The ending is pure poetry: a perfect conclusion to the transformative journey undertaken by Theodore and Amy. It leaves the audience with a question that is both deeply personal and universal: What makes us human?