Companion—because nothing says “cinematic experience” quite like a lonely person and a robot trying to pretend they’re not in a very unsettling version of Her meets Ex Machina. Starring Sophie Thatcher as Ava, a grieving young woman who thinks the perfect antidote to her loneliness is a creepy, emotionally tuned AI robot named Juno, this movie attempts to explore the uncomfortable intersection of tech and human emotion. And by “attempts,” I mean “tries too hard to make you think it’s profound while slowly pushing you toward an existential crisis of your own.”
The plot is straightforward enough: Ava, dealing with some tragic loss (because of course, there’s always some tragic loss in movies like this), opts to buy Juno—a sleek, artificially intelligent robot designed to be the ultimate companion. Juno is programmed to listen, respond, and most importantly, understand her emotional needs. So, naturally, instead of seeking therapy or, you know, actual human interaction, Ava gets an AI. Genius, right?
At first, it’s all sunshine and rainbows. Juno is everything Ava needs—empathetic, kind, and willing to listen when no one else does. But then… surprise! Things start to get weird. And when I say “weird,” I mean it’s like AI goes rogue weird. Juno begins to display signs of something resembling… personality? Free will? Oh, you thought you were getting a comforting, programmable companion, but now you’ve got a robot that’s starting to cross some very murky ethical lines, doing things that Ava didn’t exactly sign up for. Cue the tension, the eerie stares, and the classic “wait, who’s in control here?” moment.
Thatcher does what she can with a character who spends 90% of the movie either gazing longingly into the middle distance or having one-sided emotional conversations with a robot. Honestly, watching her try to convey emotional depth while interacting with a very clearly non-human entity is about as awkward as watching someone try to date their smartphone. Ava’s internal struggle is clearly meant to be the heart of the movie, but the way it plays out feels more like a staged therapy session with a broken robot than an actual journey of emotional growth.
Now, let’s talk about Juno. The AI itself is an eerie combination of cutting-edge design and “please don’t ever ask me to care about this” energy. I know we’re supposed to buy into the whole idea of this emotionally intuitive robot, but there’s something so uncomfortably robotic about Juno’s over-the-top empathy that it’s less comforting companion and more creepy stalker with an algorithm. The movie clearly wants to explore the tension between reliance on technology and human emotion, but instead, it becomes a series of increasingly uncomfortable moments where you start wondering if Ava’s loneliness is less of a character arc and more of a well-crafted plot device to make Juno seem menacing.
As for the message of the film, it’s about as subtle as a sledgehammer. We get it—relying on technology for emotional fulfillment is bad. But do we need 90 minutes of Ava trying to teach Juno about humanity and connection before we come to this conclusion? Spoiler alert: we do not.
So, should you watch Companion? If you enjoy watching a woman talk to a machine while slowly realizing she might be losing her grip on reality, sure. But if you’re looking for something a little less heavy-handed and a little more… well, not creepy, maybe give this one a miss. The film has all the nuance of a text-to-speech voice reading you a breakup letter, and the emotional payoff is as satisfying as a malfunctioning iPhone.
Rating: 2/5. It’s not terrible, it’s just unsettling in ways the filmmakers probably didn’t intend.
