“Companion” Explores An Unsettling Reality

I had low expectations for “Companion.” January is often a dumping ground where studios release films in which they have little faith. It looked like a movie I’d seen at least twice, a thoughtless slasher cashing in on the artificial intelligence craze (think “M3GAN”), but I was surprised by how effective “Companion” was in disturbing me.

On the surface, “Companion” is a reiteration of the classic “robot gains sentience” motif. The predictable plot follows Iris (Sophie Thatcher), an unaware robot made for companionship, and her “boyfriend” Josh (Jack Quaid). They visit the lakeside home of friends. When Iris realizes she is not human, she begins to exercise more autonomy and uncovers an awful plot. There are many casualties along her journey to independence.

The film grapples with familiar questions, especially as we enter a world where AI has become a reality rather than a trope of science fiction. Neil deGrasse Tyson noted recently on “StarTalk” that whenever people try to define what humanity is, the spark that makes us different, the goalposts always seem to move. If AI starts doing what humans can do, humans change the definition of what makes a human being. When we act as a result of our experiences or traumas, are we that different from a robot acting according to its programming? Does it matter if an experience was real, if we can remember perceiving it? Many stories have grappled with these questions, and “Companion” continues the tradition in a sensible (and often humorous) way.

At the film’s core, however, I don’t believe “Companion” is about robots or sentience or the Matrix. Themes of manipulation and abuse, regardless of gender (one of the victimized robots is male) take center stage. It’s also about an unsettling, growing divide between modern men and women in a world of Andrew Tates and SheraSevens. AI only magnifies the problem.

The beginning of the film was difficult to stomach - you watch Iris, a robot woman, go through pain that many human women find all too familiar. Her sole purpose is to provide pleasure, household labor and emotional support to a woefully average man who rented her from a corporation because he could not find a human girlfriend to tolerate him. He wrongfully believes that he is a nice person who has been victimized and mistreated by women, so he resorts to paying for companionship in an entity he can completely control, without any attempt at effort or respect.

As Iris learns what she really is - and comes to see Josh for what he really is - a rift develops between them, and it is all too true-to-life. Her moments of faltering, where she tries to humanize him despite his bad behavior, make her vulnerable and subject to his domination. His festering anger and contempt at losing control overrides his sense of humanity and becomes his own undoing. Is this a film about robots or your average couple stuck in a cycle of domestic violence?

Jack Quaid was an interesting casting choice for Josh; his father recently portrayed a ghoulish caricature of misogyny in “The Substance.” In turn, Jack’s character is another archetype in the same family of toxic masculinity: the incel. He reads similarly to Harry Styles’ character in “Don’t Worry Darling,” a film that tackled similar themes. Joshes have always existed, in varying forms. If you’ve ever met a “passport bro” who seeks a submissive, vulnerable, foreign wife because no western woman would tolerate his behavior, then you’ve met a Josh. Soon, the Joshes of the world will have AI companions to affirm their most twisted distortions of what women are supposed to be.

The underlying message is truly disturbing.

Many men have become frustrated with their lack of control in an increasingly hostile economic environment, where being a male breadwinner is no longer easy or enough, and they fall down red-pill rabbit holes. In a world where bears are preferable to some of the dating pool and men are no longer required for survival, many women write off men altogether as useless and dismiss their feelings, or even lean into the toxic tropes assigned to them. Worst of all, everything in our lives has become more customizable, algorithmic and commoditised than ever.

The result is that the rift between men and women seems to be growing ever larger, and the empathetic connection between us - perhaps the very thing that makes us people - is growing more tenuous. Maybe we would prefer the company of robots who mirror our base desires. It’s easier than working on ourselves so we can build better connections with other messy, imperfect human beings.

This, of course, is not always the inevitable conclusion. Josh and Iris are juxtaposed against another couple in the film who are also human and robot. With this couple, you could argue that the love and connection were real, even if one party was a robot. Relationships do not always have to be transactional in nature; they don’t have to be about power and control - love can transcend boundaries we first think insurmountable. But as the extremely dark concepts of personal AI companions and deep-fake generators become a reality, I’ve come to the unsettling realization that perhaps the world of “Companion” is already with us.