There’s a scene in Spike Jonze’s her (2013) where Theodore Twombley (Joaquin Phoenix) has sex with the AI Operating System Samantha (voiced by Scarlett Johansson) over the phone, where Samantha who’s always weighed by the fact she doesn’t have a body discovers the feeling of having one while talking to Theodore. The scene is simple – Joaquin Phoenix is lying on his bed and talking into his earpiece as we hear the raspy voice of Samantha and the scene escalates, the camera zooms into the Theodore’s face as the scene heats up and fades to black as the voices heighten to a sexual climax.
For a minute or so we're immersed in the darkness of their orgasm, a scene of cinematic brilliance as it is successful in making us believe that a tender sexual moment can be possible between a human and an AI agent and it does away with the physical aspect of sex and wanders into the psychological aspect of lovemaking – as all great sex happens deep in the mind than the body. The way Spike Jonze achieves this in a rare flash of undoing of the cinematic and weighing on the voice performances of his characters alone, which by the time the scene comes up are established by a dramatic perfection.
The weight of the scene plays in the darkness of the cinema, with the breathlessness the characters experience become your own. It's by no means an easy scene to conceive as the movie hinges on the momentum produced by it to sustain the dramatic meat of the movie and the radical simplification without the voyeuristic gaze of the camera is a touch of genius. In a world where the visual representation of sex is abundant, to be able to perceive intimacy as silence and darkness gives the scene a sensitivity that other sex scenes rarely capture.
This scene also answers an important question: Can you have sex with an AI agent, considering the physical limitations it has? The answer is a resounding yes, as all you need is a mind or the perception of one as bodies are immaterial to intimacy.
I was under the impression that Blue Valentine was a musical after confusing it with La La Land. For the first 20 minutes I was waiting for Cindy (Michelle Williams) and Dean (Ryan Gosling) to break into song and dance. But Dean and Cindy are in no mood to dance. Their marriage is melting, Cindy is passive and Dean does not understand why. How did this couple even get together?
The interludes from six years prior paints a different picture – Cindy goes through an unplanned pregnancy with an abusive boyfriend and Dean is smitten by Cindy in their first meeting. Cindy ignores Dean initially, but a chance meeting on a bus brings them on their course to destiny.
Blue Valentine works on contrasts. It is the earlier iteration of the Marriage Story , where the juxtaposition of the past over the present gives us the colour book and the colours. Blue Valentine gives the viewer a voyeuristic insight into noticing the “red flags” in the romance that preclude the downfall. For a film that tries to explore the depth of a relationship as time passes by, the breakdown of the marriage works if there is a believable element of love that preceded the union.
The tap dance scene outside the bridal store serves this purpose. Dean and Cindy cannot see the end yet, they have to still fall in love but for the audience the dramatic hinge rests upon this act of falling in love. The scene is combustible, it has these two raw, imperfect strangers who need each other. Dean because he is smitten and Cindy because she's pregnant with someone she doesn't trust. It lets them be without the pressing problems that wait in their adult lives. The tap dance scene can also be termed childlike in the context of their relationship because what follows after is the stuff of Agony Aunt columns. The child in a relationship grows up, the problems that force Cindy to fall in love are far removed.
This effervescent two minute scene gives meaning to the tragedy that follows. We are propelled to fill in the blanks and involve our judgement to the failing marriage. The film offers no overt narrative support but it pulls us into it through the imperfections the characters create, giving us a chance to self-reflect about our own personal tragedies. I was a bit sullen that it wasn't a musical but it is whatever it takes to make you feel.