Companion film review
- Dr Chrissy Jayarajah MBBS FRCPsych DFSRH
Consultant Perinatal Psychiatrist Chelsea and Westminster Hospital and Clinical Research Lead, CNWL Perinatal Mental Health Services, London UK.
Firstly, before you read any further, if you happen to find yourself in the rare circumstance of not knowing anything about this film and have yet to read a review or watch a trailer and/or plan on watching this film—stop here—because I do not want to deny you the pleasure of seeing this incredible body of work spoiler-free. If not, then read on at your peril….
*Trigger warning: contains SPOILERS and adult themes of sexual abuse and domestic violence*
COMPANION is a fresh take on a dystopian feminist sci fi horror film, written and directed by emerging star Drew Hancock, casting a flush suite of Jack Quaid, Sophie Thatcher, Megan Suri, Lukas Gage and Harvey Guillen. The story starts innocent enough – Iris (Sophie Thatcher) and Josh (Jack Quaid) are a young twenty-something couple driving through the scenic “Stepford wives” county to a little cabin in the woods (the perfect backdrop for any psychological thriller, in my humble opinion). We get introduced to them through an idyllic meet-cute, reminiscent of the perfection of early romance, except it is anything but. Companion is filled with twists and turns, as we soon learn that Iris is not only his girlfriend but also his property – an artificial intelligence companion for physical and emotional intimacy. She is pre-programmed to all his preferences, including his ideal shape, vocal register, eye colour, and intelligence. Iris cannot lie and exists only to make him feel better, hopelessly devoted to him.
A simple plan devised by Josh and his aide Kat (Megan Suri) to kill her wealthy Russian lover takes an unfortunate turn when Iris discovers her identity and fate. In a desperate attempt to save herself, more accidental casualties accumulate in the secluded location. Hancock, building on the growing repertoire of films that explore our complicated relationship with artificial intelligence (2001: A Space Odyssey, Ex Machina, and Her, to name a few), raises important ethical and moral questions regarding the dynamics of power between men and women. The film draws heavily on concepts within feminist theory regarding the dangers of power and control in intimate relationships, a theme ever prevalent within the discourse on toxic masculinity. There is also a poignant scene where we see both women side by side, realising that although one is human while the other is not, they both share disturbingly similar characteristics of being exploited and abused by men for pleasure, prompting us to question the validity of the AI “sex-bot” and paid sex work debate. I found it striking how Josh, who believes he has (literally) gotten away with murder, blames the tragic events on his “malfunctioning robot error”, only to learn that her hard drive is not located in her mind but in her womb – a symbolic nod to the reproductive power and prowess of the female species, and her ability to carry life and give birth to the next generation (“update 2.0”, if you will).
Despite being a sci-fi horror at its core, Companion carries a lighter and simpler tone than expected, with moments of comedy sprinkled throughout, reminiscent of Y2K’s coming-of-age “Scream-ish” vibe. Companion promotes essential dialogue on the seamless integration of artificial intelligence and technology in our rapidly advancing digital landscape. As a psychiatrist, I am both excited and fearful of the changes in equal measure – I cannot help but wonder whether virtual reality will increase the risk of actual mental illness and the interpersonal relationships that may develop with inanimate objects. In my practice, which predominantly involves women, the film highlights concerns about intimate relationships and the vulnerability women face, which spans across cultures and generations and increases during pregnancy and the postnatal period – from coercive control to domestic violence and everything in between. There are moments in the film where the dangers of the power imbalance between Josh and Iris become uncomfortable to watch, with heavy themes that we see time and again in abusive relationships. Iris becomes trauma-bonded to him, aware of his cruelty yet feeling powerless (both literally and figuratively) to leave the relationship. Although she is “just” a companion robot, her portrayal of visceral emotions is palpable, and I am reminded of the harrowing fact that, on average, a woman is killed by an abusive partner or ex every five days in England and Wales. We find ourselves rooting for Iris to escape, running through the woods, echoing our affection for Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. The film ends just as it should, with her driving away into the sunset in a classic red Ford Mustang, waving her exposed metallic hand, hopeful for a better, autonomous life (and perhaps a sequel).
