The Claude Mono Blog

My kind of Dystopia – Her

PROLOGUE

I never watched Her when it was first released back in 2013. Strange as I was still going to lots of cinema screenings and I remember it coming out. After that I just never got around to watching it – until this year – until 2023.

It must have just been a lucky break for me because watching it now for the first time I am sure that Spike Jonze made his film about a decade before we all could really ‘get it’. And it was based on a screenplay idea he originally had a decade earlier back in the early 2000s. So now here I am two decades later and we can all see and relate to Her and its gentle foretelling of the age of lifestyle art via AI aka Planet Fantastique or AI assistance via ChatGPT.

But wait… there is another story within the story. The actual reason I watched Her was Sofia Coppola. I finally got onto it after only recently reading about the film’s touchpoints with ‘Lost in Translation’. I was not here for the film’s strangely colorful and beautifully costumed dystopia and its AI tale. But once here that’s why I stayed.

Its still a fresh viewing for me but I already want to put Her up there with my other favorite leftfield lo-fi styled and ‘quiet’ dystopian cinematic masterpieces (i.e. non-Bladerunner-esque) being Never Let Me Go, Under the Skin, Tales From The Loop and Gattaca – oh and also this David Lynch directed advert for Adidas from 1993.

PLOT

Kayleigh Donaldson (Spike Jonze’s Her: A Utopian Future or a Dystopian one?) writes:

“Her, Spike Jonze’s 2013 sci-fi romance, is a remarkably drama-free film compared to others in its genre with similar premises or themes. Everything is happening just below the surface. The quaintly named Theodore Twombly (played by Joaquin Phoenix) is a lonely introvert who works for a business that writes letters for people who are unable to express themselves emotionally. Theodore is great at other people’s issues, but not his own, and has been delaying signing his divorce papers for quite some time. Feeling a desire for companionship, he purchases a new operating system upgrade that includes a virtual assistant who names herself Samantha. She is curious, charming, and able to adapt and evolve to suit Theodore’s needs. She’s also lushly voiced by Scarlett Johansson. Soon their bond grows into one of romance that feels all too human”.

I should watch it again and more closely. A highlight for me that deserves much more attention are the little moments of tension between Theodore and Samantha as Samantha’s personality develops. Her showing nuanced traits just in her voice and Theodore quickly reacting as he reflects that hold on she is meant to be simply a product – Operating System 1. It really is brilliant intimate acting in these POV scenes by Joaquin Phoenix.

EPILOGUE

It does take the edge off just a little from this joyous cinematic experience but ‘gets it’ about right when Natalie Kuss in a random .edu journal I found on Brave New Worlds Utopias and Dystopias writes:

“The film warns of a future where real human connections are phased out by artificial intelligence. The deterioration of Theodore’s relationship with Samantha exemplifies how creating relationships with AI can potentially damage our ability to connect with other humans. Although AI can seem like an easy way to develop a utopian society, it can also prevent necessary relationships from forming. Without true human connection, humanity could spiral into a dystopia lacking empathy and socialization. Although Her exclusively shows Theodore’s experience with AI, the film still acts as a cautionary tale for society as a whole”.

LISTEN

The soundtrack to the film was composed by the band Arcade Fire working with Owen Pallett. Initially the soundtrack was not released in either a physical or digital format although promotional CDs were sent to critics and became very collectable. The full soundtrack became available via streaming and much wanted. It was finally released in digital, vinyl and cassette formats in 2021.

SPOILER:

Within the soundtrack the song is called “Alan Watts / 641 version” because in the scene where it occurs, quite late in the film, the AI introduces Theodore to the late British philosopher Alan Watts (of The Dream of Life). This moment is pivotal for Theodore’s aspirations and increasing understanding of the AI Samantha. Theodore learning that Samantha can speak with 641, or potentially millions of other people, dead or alive, at the same time as him, and still not have a truly human conversation with any of them, drives home the whole films point about real, human connection, and our inherent need for it.

MORE

In a 2013 an article in the New Yorker written by Mike Harris a photo by Todd Hido called 2563 is described:

“The woman seems like she must be beautiful, although you can’t see her face. In the photograph, she stands with her back turned, gazing into the woods on a sunny day in late fall or early winter, her dark-blonde hair brushing her shoulders, almost tangibly present but at the same time unreachable. She’s real, but only in her world, not yours.

The woman seems like she must be beautiful, although you can’t see her face. In the photograph, she stands with her back turned, gazing into the woods on a sunny day in late fall or early winter, her dark-blonde hair brushing her shoulders, almost tangibly present but at the same time unreachable. She’s real, but only in her world, not yours”.

The framed photo print hangs on a wall in the loft where Spike Jonze lives and works when he’s in New York. When Jonze started to write the screenplay for the film, he made a small editorial addition to the image—a ragged piece of a yellow Post-it note that he stuck on the glass over the photograph. Then he took it off, replaced it with another, and then another. On the one that he finally decided felt right, he had written three lowercase letters in black marker: her. It can be seen on the cover of the soundtrack vinyl LP released in 2021.

3D Recreation of the Apartment from ‘Her’ film

You have to really watch the film before you get the idea here. Vladyslav Hreben, Max Shpak, and Roman Kravchenko all really appreciated the direction of photography by Hoyte van Hoytema. So they decided to collaborate and recreate the apartment in the ‘Her’ film in 3d. The section on ‘Night Options’ with photos that light the apartment differently are great. Check the apartment out out here.

Lost in Translation // Her: An Unloved Story

Finding a common theme between two films and running with it in a video essay is, well, a common theme in video essays.

In 2015 video essayist and editor Jorge Luengo Ruiz explored the symmetry between Lost In Translation and Her in his Vimeo video Lost in Translation // Her: An Unloved Story. The two films are amongst a very few films that create a visual dialogue between two ex-spouse writer-directors.

Her is a cohesive whole as its own film, but gets more depth and more complexity when considered as being possibly a very personal “response” by the Director to a relationship he had with Director of Lost In Translation.

A perceptive Reddit user noticed and wondered if the ending of Her is the unspoken acknowledgement by Jonze of Coppola herself being at the core of Her. Its Jonze’s way of acknowledging that his film is (below the surface of its Sci fi tale) indeed a celebratory response to Coppola’s own work and an unbreakable (but broken) bond between the two films and their Directors.

At the end of Her, Amy Adams’ character puts her head on Theodore’s shoulder for the final shot. While not confirmed, this is directly similar to Lost In Translation’s most iconic shot — where Scarlet Johannson puts her head on Bill Murray’s shoulder. Lost In Translation, which was directed by Spike Jonze’s ex-wife, Sofia Coppola, has been highly regarded as the starting point for “Her”, “Her” being Spike’s companion piece to Coppola’s “Lost In Translation”.

More recently Collider Magazine explored this further

Back in 2003 the film gossip went that Giovanni Ribisi’s character John in Lost in Translation, a photographer working on a job in Japan, was rumored to have been based on Coppola’s first husband Jonze. Several critics suggested Coppola was writing about her problems with Jonze. Coppola vehemently denied any connection at the time, but in 2013 she said she was trying to figure out her marriage to Jonze while writing the script. Jonze continues this same principle and creates a very similar context for Theodore, but shifts the lens: he opts to look at how his protagonist relates to people, not the world he lives in. Naturally, Theodore’s world brings variables that Charlotte’s and Bob’s doesn’t have, which are technology and social media. While Sofia’s drifting on Lost in Translation speaks of a more “analog” feeling, Spike uses his whole personal context to reflect on how these two factors affect human nature and the process of connection. We can be connected all the time if we so choose, and to whatever we feel like connecting. Dealing with people, though, is a whole different thing.

The conclusion Coppola and Jonze each get to is diametrically opposed from one another, but both hopeful. Coppola, ever the dreamer, establishes a connection between two very different characters, in two very different moments in life. Still, everyone wants to be found, and it does happen, not even the neon haze of Tokyo dawn should stand in the way — after all, love may happen even in the most foreign of places. Jonze acknowledges the individuality of his former partners, both Catherine and Samantha, and understands that is perfectly possible to be alone in the crowd. Loneliness and solitude are two very different things.