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At the heart of every truly great science-fiction film there is an emphasis on character that aims to reflect on some element of the human condition usually intended to open our minds to thought provoking predictions or eerily warn of an impending reality. We've seen numerous examples of these contemplative films throughout the very existence of cinema stemming all the way back to Fritz Lang's haunting futuristic piece Metropolis and has inspired countless others in its thoughtful wake as seen in memorable cinematic creations such as Ridley Scott's Blade Runner, Andrei Tarkovsky's Stalker, and even Duncan Jones' Moon. Never to be a director to back away from experimental presentation or psychological study, Spike Jonze's Her fully embraces this reflective science-fiction quality by peering into the deep sociable aspects of the human psyche giving us more of a prophetical reality than a fictional reflection. In his latest film Jonze creates a disconcerting yet equally endearing romance between a secluded depressive and his female operating system with an evolving consciousness, basically a HAL-9000 homage from Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, that brings to light a commentary on our dependency of programmed living and our need to maintain sociability when direct communication avenues have been stricken from life's normality. Rarely do ambitious films meet idyllically with their inquisitive potential, but Jonze has fashioned a delicately profound science-fiction contemplation that is depicted through the thoughtfulness of character alone that brims with wry humor, authentic pain, and charming revelation. Through the use of beautiful cinematography, impeccable production design, and subtle yet evocative performances, Her becomes a multilayered film experience where its character study of an isolated man afraid to become vulnerable again blends harmoniously with a truly unconventional yet naturally heartfelt romance. Jonze's affinity and ambition for presenting psychological challenges, as he has done before with Being John Malkovich, Adaptation, and especially in Where the Wild Things Are, finally collides with emotionally piercing conveyance within Her making it as thought provoking and as it is undeniably sweet. If the sole purpose of the science-fiction genre is to expound on societal, moral, and deeply psychological aspects of our human condition than Her fits soundly within that genre's capabilities by capturing our condition's essential need for sociability and love uncomfortably linking it with our antisocial dependency on technology.

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams, and live the life you have imagined," stated author Henry David Thoreau expressing a naturalist sentiment that bemoans the vicarious escapism of pure imagination and pleads with us to discover life through direct experience. This is the central theme that surrounds the emotionless title protagonist in the newest film adaptation of the infamous James Thurber short story The Secret Life of Walter Mitty and though it's sound advice to be sure it seems oddly displaced to be a driving refrain for the dreaming power of cinema. Within the latest remake of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty we unfortunately see director, producer, and star Ben Stiller in rather weak form despite his admirable decision to branch out creatively messily guiding Steve Conrad's overstated script to never fully articulate the true meaning of intended self-discovery. The film reeks of overt desperation attempting to fully separate itself from the original Norman Z. McLeod adaptation in utilizing state of the art pristine visuals and engulfing panoramic surrounding but inevitably loses touch with the heart of the message by embodying in the end an all too generic presentation. It might be too gracious to even suggest that Stiller knows of the influences he's admirably trying to invoke, but his The Secret Life of Walter Mitty tries to bridge the life affirming discovery of Akira Kurosawa's Ikiru with the comedic thoughtfulness of John Schlesinger's Billy Liar without ever approaching the depth of either. Stiller's fifth film as a director sees him trying to lift himself out of the conventions of his overbearing low-brow comedic past and though his impressive visuals are skillfully conceived the film's message gets lost in inflated clichés and naively mistakes living for reckless endangerment. As it is with most adaptations it's clear that this version of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty leaves behind the intention of Thurber's original story about dreaming beyond the confines of the mundane by replacing that contemplation with a theme of actual life affirming self-discovery that unfortunately falls flat due to the indiscernibility of consistent impeccable imagery, the blunt underlining of obvious metaphor, and an inability to humanly connect with our more adventurous sensibilities. If there's anything to take away from this rather uninvolving film about making the implausibility of dreams a felt reality it's that Ben Stiller in his admirable attempt to grow as a filmmaker has given us a demonstration that perhaps imagining something is actually better than seeing it become a reality.

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