17 January 2014

Last night I saw that new Spike Jonze film, which I guess is called her (lowercase “H”) (★★ (out of four)), and I sure did like that first hour. And then I started shifting in my seat because I didn’t really want to be there in that theater anymore, and then the film took a nosedive and got sentimental and cheap and saccharine sweet and I thought, “Well, I definitely want to leave now” and I made some sounds with my mouth and didn’t look at the screen during a few scenes because I felt repulsed and betrayed that the movie I had enjoyed so much only an hour before had turned into a Hallmark greeting card.

Anyway: there were flickering moments of genius, and I liked those flickering moments. For instance at one point Theodore, the protagonist, is lying in bed in the middle of the night in his Los Angeles high-rise apartment, and he’s talking to his computer girlfriend, saying something like, “Sometimes I think I’ve felt everything I’m ever going to feel, and that all the emotions I’ll experience for the rest of my life will just be lesser versions of those original ones.”

And when I heard this I nervously darted my eyes back and forth, thinking, oh god, they know—they know and now they’re going to kill me now. They’ve read my thoughts and they’ve watched my dreams.

That was my favorite scene in the movie, probably because it made me feel anything at all. And I quote unquote related to it. The end!!!!!