Her (2013)

Spike Jonze only directed one film in the last decade, but we are all incredibly lucky that it happened to be Her. In what ultimately feels like his magnum opus (hopefully so far), this movie is the discerning director’s most poignant one yet. On the surface, Her just looks absolutely stunning – a crisp representation of an interconnected cosmopolitan world that somehow manages to be lush and distant at the same time. Her is all soft hues and picturesque skyscrapers until we enter one of its artful yet sometimes clinical spaces. Occupying these buildings are lovably quirky people living out polished, individualistic existences. They are yearning to reach out to one another, but many don’t know-how.

Jonze had the intricate task of making AI lovers and so-called “artificial” confidantes feel not only real but also logical and understandable. At first, this made me wary. As someone who has made long-lasting relationships online – not to mention found spaces like this very website that act as an outlet for self-expression – I was afraid that the film wouldn’t manage to capture the multifaceted potential of technologically driven relationships.

But Jonze is an empathetic filmmaker. We’ve long been aware of his fascinating, heartfelt takes on the human psyche, be it in Being John Malkovich or Where the Wild Things Are. So, although Jonze levels a certain amount of criticism at the prospect of technological over-reliance in Her, he is careful to be caring for the lonely. He affirms that virtual relationships can be potent, visceral, and totally tangible… but that there must also be balance. After all, it is through our interactions with others that we learn grace, humility, and compassion. The sheer beauty of Her – and the humble reason this film makes our “best of” list – is that, be it IRL or online, nothing means more to humanity than personal connection. (Sheryl Oh)