What sells this strange romance, this strange story, this entire strange universe, is the acting. Phoenix is withdrawn but not weird, full of social anxiety and pain in anticipation of social-anxiety. It's reminiscent of other cinematic introverts searching for something, or someone, to fill the hole they don't want to acknowledge: Ryan Gosling in Lars and the Real Girl,Jim Carrey in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Bill Murray in Lost In Translation.Somehow, he achieves a status somewhere between "loner" and "lonely," maneuvering it enough to earn sympathy. He finds his partner in Johansson's warm voice, which is wholeheartedly deserving of the many nominations she's been named for as a Best Actress. She imbues it with depth, portraying the emotions she feels as genuinely as would an actor with a body to manipulate.
What makes Herso compelling is its believability: the blossoming love between Theodore and Samantha seems wholly natural, so much so that it feels acceptable within the bounds of not just their universe, but our own. Today, if one were to peek into any dining hall or lecture room, smartphones abound. Heris most certainly a partial-commentary on today's preoccupation with technology. But beyond that, it's also a commentary on the nature of relationships, and of love—both of another, and of oneself. In the end, Samantha comes to love herself, not "in spite of" her virtual existence, but because of it. What Hershows us is two adults who have been stunted, in some way, and the process of growing and learning together.
