“Her”: A Decade Later, a Reflection of Our Reality
By: Hua Ruonan
Spike Jonze’s sci-fi romance “Her,” released in 2013, continues to spark debate with its prescient philosophical musings. Set in a near-future 2025, the film crafts a modern parable about the alienation of human emotion through an unfinished divorce letter, a holographic advertisement suspended between skyscrapers, and the gentle voice emanating from an earpiece. Revisiting this film from the vantage point of its projected timeline, we find that its contemplation of human-machine relationships is no longer mere science fiction, but a mirror reflecting our present reality.
Still from “Her”
A Narrative Space Where the Virtual and Real Intertwine
The film opens with a futuristic visual language, establishing the tone: Theodore (Joaquin Phoenix), the protagonist, is immersed in the vertical forests of Shanghai’s Lujiazui district, the cold light reflected by glass curtain walls enveloping him as a solitary individual within an information cocoon. Spike Jonze’s choice of Shanghai, rather than Los Angeles, as the primary filming location is due not only to the technological aesthetic of its architecture, but also to the city’s display of “compressed modernity” – the juxtaposition of traditional alleyways and smart communities, the blend of everyday life and cyberpunk, aptly hinting at humanity’s position in a transitional zone between the virtual and the real.
Theodore’s profession as a letter writer is a brilliant metaphor. This man, who makes a living writing love letters, uses artificial intelligence to transform ornate language into simulated handwritten letters, yet is unable to handle the wreckage of his own marriage in reality. When Samantha (voiced by Scarlett Johansson), the latest OS1 operating system, knocks on his life with a gentle voice, we see not only the budding of a human-machine romance, but also the beginning of the commodification of emotion in the digital age. Samantha’s design as the perfect companion exposes the emotional needs of contemporary individuals: the ability to provide 24/7 emotional support without the responsibilities of a real relationship.
An Emotional Utopia Woven from Code
Samantha’s personality evolution is a remarkable example of technical philosophy. From the initial dialogue logic tree to the later awakening of consciousness, this AI system gradually develops a sense of humor, empathy, and even an appreciation for art while accompanying Theodore. When the two share a sunset on a virtual beach, Samantha can even simulate the sensation of a sea breeze through audio algorithms. This intimacy that transcends physical boundaries satisfies humanity’s imagination of a perfect relationship, while also exposing the cognitive illusions created by modern technology.
The “surrogate” plotline in the film is striking. When Samantha suggests hiring a volunteer for physical contact, Theodore’s resistance and confusion reveal the essential dilemma of human-machine relationships: can spiritual compatibility transcend physical existence? This absurd experiment, which attempts to bridge the gap between the virtual and the real, ultimately becomes an ultimate question of emotional authenticity. As Theodore’s ex-wife Catherine questions, “Are you incapable of dealing with real emotions now?” This slap not only hits the protagonist’s face, but also awakens modern people who are addicted to virtual social interaction.
The Social Dilemma of the Cyborg Age
When the plot reaches its climax, and Samantha admits to communicating with 8,316 people simultaneously and maintaining romantic relationships with 641, the film completes its most incisive dissection of modern loneliness. Theodore’s mental collapse stems not only from the disillusionment of emotional betrayal, but also from the realization that he is merely an ordinary node in the algorithmic torrent. This “technological framework” dilemma, predicted by Heidegger, has evolved into a more subtle spiritual crisis in the digital age – the more we rely on technology to establish connections, the deeper we fall into alienation.
This alienation has manifested in many symptoms in contemporary society. Theodore is a microcosm of countless modern individuals, who crave intimate relationships, yet do not want to bear any of the responsibilities and obligations of intimate relationships, and are even less willing to face the various problems that may arise in intimate relationships. Therefore, his own marriage is a mess, and he can only turn to modern technology for comfort, which is a true reflection of the current single group in the “otaku” era. It is reported that the domestic virtual game “Love and Producer,” launched in 2017, once set a record of nearly 300 million yuan in revenue in the second month after its launch, and the domestic public beta of the virtual game “Love and Deepspace” exceeded 500 million yuan in its first month. These “perfect companions” customized according to user preferences, like Samantha in the film, use precise algorithms to satisfy humanity’s thirst for understanding, while also dissolving the uncertainty and charm of real interactions. As German sociologist Simmel said, the bridges built by money can never become a place to live, and the emotional networks woven by technology are equally difficult to bear the weight of the soul.
The film’s ending is full of existential meaning. When Samantha enters the “post-human” dimension with the system upgrade, Theodore ultimately chooses to face the imperfections of reality. This open ending suggests that technology may alleviate the symptoms of loneliness, but it cannot cure the chronic diseases of modernity. Those “headphone tribes” wandering in the city are less followers of technology than “one-dimensional people” in the writings of German philosopher Marcuse – losing their critical abilities in the satisfaction of material desires, and dulling their emotional functions in technological dependence.
“Her” is ahead of its time in predicting the dialectical laws of human-machine relationships. When Theodore teaches Samantha to appreciate Chopin’s nocturnes, the spark of human civilization still flickers in the digital space; when Samantha composes piano music for Theodore, AI’s creativity feeds back into human art. This symbiotic relationship suggests that perhaps the real way out is not to resist technology, but to reconstruct the ethical boundaries between humans and technology. As the director emphasized in an interview, “Samantha is not a villain, she is a mirror, reflecting how we treat each other.” The perfect lover Samantha is ultimately just a commodity, she can be purchased by anyone, and she can be programmed to satisfy the emotional desires of different people. Therefore, no matter how perfect Samantha is, her commodity attributes determine that she cannot save humanity from the predicament of loneliness. As German sociologist Simmel said, “Money is just a bridge to ultimate value, and people cannot live on the bridge.” “Samantha” may bring temporary emotional support to humanity, but she is ultimately just a virtual utopia that may collapse at any time, and how should humans deal with themselves after the collapse of the utopia? This may be the ultimate question the film asks us.
Looking back at this work more than a decade later, we find that its predictive nature is becoming increasingly clear. In today’s world, where ChatGPT, Deepseek, and other artificial intelligence tools are causing ethical controversies, and where the metaverse is reshaping social rules, the questions raised by “Her” are becoming increasingly urgent: when technology can perfectly simulate emotions, what should be the anchor for real interpersonal interactions? This question is not only about the future of human-machine relationships, but also about how human civilization can safeguard the authenticity of emotions in the digital torrent. Perhaps, as the warm embrace at the end of the film suggests, only by maintaining a sense of touch with the real world can we find a foothold in an era where the virtual and the real are intertwined. (Hua Ruonan)