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November 18, 2013

Scene and Heard: Spike Jonze


Photo Credit: Timothy Norris

Editors' Notes

Spike Jonze at AFI Fest presented by Audi before a screening of Her.

Photo Credit: Timothy Norris

Editors' Notes

Spike Jonze speaking with Lane Kneedler at AFI Fest presented by Audi before a screening of Her.

Photo Credit: Timothy Norris

Editors' Notes

Spike Jonze at AFI Fest presented by Audi before a screening of Her.

Photo Credit: Timothy Norris

Editors' Notes

Spike Jonze speaking with Lane Kneedler at AFI Fest presented by Audi before a screening of Her.

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

Editors' Notes

Joaquin Phoenix in a film still from Her.

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

Editors' Notes

Joaquin Phoenix in a film still from Her.

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

Editors' Notes

Joaquin Phoenix in a film still from Her.

Editors' Notes

Poster for the film Her.

“When Samantha is created, she doesn’t have any fears or doubts, or insecurities or baggage, like when we’re created. We learn self-doubts, we learn those things,” said writer and director Spike Jonze, speaking with Lane Kneedler at AFI Fest presented by Audi in Los Angeles on Wednesday, November 13. Jonze and Kneedler chatted at the Egyptian Theatre before a screening of Jonze’s new film, Her, set in near-future Los Angeles. Jonze explained that he was discussing Samantha, the entity referenced in the film’s title who is a personalized operating system voiced by Scarlet Johansson, with the actress. Jonze continued, “And she [Johansson] was like, ‘Oh, okay this is going to be hard to try and unlearn those things.’” As with other Jonze films including Where the Wild Things Are and Being John Malkovich, the ability—or lack thereof—to make connections is paramount in Her.

Though Samantha is an adaptive computer program who yearns for a body as her relationship with Theodore Twombly (played by Joaquin Phoenix) progresses, those who have one find themselves living a comfortable life. They dwell in a futuristic version of L.A., and find themselves in city where men neatly tuck collared shirts into high-waisted pants, a Metrorail system connects downtown skyscrapers with sunny coastal beaches, and Tahoe is just a train ride away. Sure, individuals hire writers such as Twombly to craft Beautiful Handwritten Letters to be sent to their loved ones, but at least there’s still some semblance of a postal system. Yet, Twombly’s job highlights people’s deteriorating communication skills.

And despite all the advances this world Jonze has conjured up (the city’s skyline includes architectural wonders that look as though they’ve been crafted by a dozen Pritzker prize winners and production designer K. K. Barrett is said to have talked with the firm Diller Scofidio & Renfro), the lines of people streaming in and out of the buildings talk with operating systems through phones and earpieces rather than with their fellow humans. The devices are very basic and not at all eye-catching. In fact, the film resists fetishizing technology, and instead focuses on the way it affects how people interact with each other. Samantha is a dream for a moody guy like Twombly. She says what she thinks, lacks inhibitions, always listens, and is generally upbeat and happy. Conversely, Twombly’s ex-wife Catherine (played by Rooney Mara) has all the complexities of a human, and the accompanying range of emotions. But as a study in human evolution, Samantha is fascinating. She’s forthright, yet ultimately engaged in computations and ideas much larger than the problems of two little people. Jonze’s moody study of Twombly’s relationships and missed connections is a fascinating exploration of how messy and melancholy human nature can be.

By Elizabeth Varnell

 

Pictured: Spike Jonze at AFI Fest presented by Audi before a screening of Her.
Photo by Timothy Norris

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