Latest Strip of the Comic I Write, The Spookies, Is Up
It’s Wednesday, which means the comic I do the writing for, The Spookies (how many fucking times can I fit the word “the” into a three-inch space), has a new […]
The only bad thing I have to say about Her is that I keep slipping up and calling the film She when talking about it with other people, which in turn causes them to look at me like I’m a fucking imbecile who’s referring to it as “Talking Robot Movie With Harelip and Miss Milkers.” Other than that, I could lob a little at Spike Jonze because he’s the picture of dorky white guy-dom and I hate his twat name, but I remember enjoying both Being John Malkovich and Adaptation. I missed Where the Wild Things Are because I’m not a pedophile and thus didn’t feel the urge to take a kid on a date to view it, but that’s not a bad batting average for a director.
Her tells the story of a man who falls for his phone’s Siri-esque verbal operating system and, through his unconventional choice of partners, explores the nature and definition of love itself. If you think it sounds far-fetched, look in the mirror and say with a straight face that you’ve never had a little something for someone you’ve solely communicated with via Facebook, email or some other electronic means. (Then, while you’re still in front of the mirror, scream the words “Who could ever love you, you graying, balding fat fuck!” at your reflection so I don’t feel as alone in that behavior.) Hell, I don’t even think Her qualifies as prescient because its entire plot is already being lived out by the Japanese, whose birthrate has dropped to shit because everyone over there now marries talking body pillows instead of people.
While some might be intimidated or chilled by the vision of things to come presented in Her, I’m all for it. Think about it: Either this technology will be so great that you really won’t miss human companionship anymore, or you’ll be king of the castle simple because you’re one of three men left still sexually attracted to animate objects. Women clawing at each other to get to my vital seed before their own parts wither and die like a pumpkin on the vine? I’ve certainly heard of dystopian futures far less appealing than that.
Mark my words, Her is going to be one of those rare movies that works as a date flick as well as something you can watch with friends to discuss afterwards (or even as something to catch solo if you’re well on your way to falling in love with the talking robotics who already provide your only companionship). Let me know what you think about Her in the comments. And, while you’re acquiescing to my demands, read some of my other articles and comment on them as well, dammit.
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