Companion opens with a gripping pace, immediately pulling viewers into its futuristic yet disturbingly familiar world. The sudden death of Sergey sets a dark tone, and from there, the film explores the concept of AI partners—robot companions built to meet human emotional needs in an increasingly disconnected world.
The premise is especially timely. In an era where many feel isolated and love can seem elusive or transactional, the idea of a companion who is always loyal, always present, and never deceitful is both comforting and unsettling. But the movie doesn’t stop at sci-fi curiosity—it dives into the darker corners of human nature, particularly toxic masculinity. We see how some men, both in real life and in fiction, desire partners they can control—who exist to serve, please, and never challenge them.
One scene that struck me deeply was the dinner table confrontation, where Iris, the robot companion, is restrained and humiliated. It mirrored real-world abuse I’ve seen friends endure—where a smile becomes something to be criticized, where confidence is chipped away in the name of “love.” That moment reminded me just how thin the line can be between programming and conditioning.
While the middle of the film dragged slightly, the final act pulled through with a powerful arc. Iris’s decision to reclaim her autonomy and inspire others to do the same—even those made of wires and code—felt both symbolic and earned. It left me with the question: if robots can break free from abuse, why do so many real people struggle to do the same?