issy 🥝’s review published on Letterboxd:
Her depicts this perfect blend of loneliness and togetherness so beautifully. when i watch it alone i am aware that i am alone, but i don't wholly feel it. i see pieces of myself in the characters, especially amy whom (yes i just used the word whom on letterboxd dot com, correctly? i don't know) i feel so close to. i know it's not the happiest film in the world, and others seem to think of it as particularly sad, but i don't; i see it as the middle ground. it's not completely black or completely white, it's the grey area that amy was talking about - around 6pm in the winter when you can't tell if you should consider it to be day or night. it's an exploration into that middle layer, not feeling sad or happy, feeling too much and too little. it's like pricking a pin into the back of your knee, which i imagine would be the weirdest fucking feeling, but it jolts you up and makes you aware of who you are, you're a human with a body and a mind and you feel. worst metaphor ever typed out but you get what i mean - this film covers how it is to be a person and to grow, and it does so through a narrative based around artificial intelligence, which is smart and thoughtful and i'll keep coming back to remember that others feel what i do and they're doing it in this unimaginably beautiful universe where they all wear clothes in shades i can't describe and talk to themselves in public with no shame.