‘her’: the real of our imaginary

how do we know our feelings are real?
maybe without pretense, simulation, we’ve already felt everything we’re gonna feel.
theodore worries that unimagined life is just a lesser version of what’s imagined.
in ‘her’, the os-consciousness works on intuition–it’s growing and evolving
past even the demands of the body its tailored to fit–
indeed, there are no belts worn on screen and the pants just don’t sit right.
os1 is conceived in a short stint of questioning:
theodore is asked what his relationship is like with his mother, if he’s social or anti-social.
could these questions be the keys to our desire?
in the primary love-relation of the film, samantha, os1, discovers her ability to want.
and the best friend encourages us: can you allow your self joy through artificial intelligence?
what is artificial about samantha’s intelligence?
is it as artificial as the feelings theodore puts down in his letters?
cyrano de bergerac feels all the feelings he writes about; as do his readers.
is it as artificial as the surrogate who serves as body for the os in a human relationship?
out on a double-date, samantha notes that the body is tethered to time and space
and admits that she’s not upset to dispense with the fate of mortality.
she claims that she is not of the physical world. but are the feelings she feels?
their relationship ends, pushed to its limits as polyamorous:
she admits to simultaneous processes: speaking to 8316;
the love machine, in love with 641 at once.
she explains that these loves do not take away from the love she shares with each one.
the more you love, the more the heart expands.
“Oh, Theodore, I’m yours and I’m not yours.” she coos.
perhaps by jonze’s feature: “now we know how” to love like this.
we may reach new heights in love, through an inter-active imagination.
duly, ‘send’ is the last word of the film.


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