Her

On the face of it, Spike Jonze’s Her sounds way too far-fetched a love story—a man and his operating system, OS1. Set in the not-so-distant future, it has the bespectacled, bushy-browed and moustached nerd Theodore Twombly (Phoenix) giving words to inexpressible thoughts and feelings, writing love letters for those not good at it. His own marriage, though, is on the verge of collapse; he stays wedded to his computer and earphone. A telling portrayal of an anaestheti­sed, automated loneliness and alienation, a heightened evocation of modern lives, spent a lot more online than for real. Theodore’s love for OS1, named Samantha (voiced by Johansson), isn’t entirely unbelievable then. Aren’t we all finding empathy, sharing confidences in the virt­ual world these days? There’s an overarching poignancy to the relationship with a disembodied, intangible, yet so genuine a presence as Samantha. Her intuitive perceptiveness helps ebb his desperation, when he tells her he is unable to feel anything new but “lesser versions” of feelings he has already experienced. Like all compelling love stories, this one too is built on conversations. Quite like Before Sunrise/Sunset/Midnight. Only, the woman here isn’t visual. Love is not who you see but what you hear from her. Touching with sound, with words, a date with a voice—all this feels real. The montage of happy times Theo spent with his wife (Mara) looks a mere illusion. Watch it if you are in the mood for love.