JunkDror

Leave it to a man to break a robot’s heart, and thank Drew Hancock for the revelation. 

His first feature film, Companion (which he wrote and directed) is a new addition to the sci-fi horror genre with an artificially intelligent romance and stupidly funny edge that makes you rethink every technological malfunction you have ever had. While the young adults may have out-grown his previous teen-drama projects, like My Dead Ex (2018) and Suburgatory (2011), they will be glad to see Hancock grew up along with them in this gory, undercover comedy of a film.

We have all heard of robots-gone-wild – James Cameron’s The Terminator (1984) and most recently Gerard Johnstone’s M3GAN (2022) – but not one with absolutely reasonable grounds to crash out. Iris (Sophie Thatcher) is a hunk of metal known as a “Companion,” whose sole purpose is to love and make love with its purchaser: a chronically misunderstood and desperate excuse for a man, Josh (Jack Quaid). Considering she is unaware of her manufactured existence and her programming has few loose ends, Iris is a full-time girlfriend without realizing it, and she is not leaving till death do they part. 

As in many horrors-past, there has to be a Stalin-loving, mustache-flaunting rich Russian man with a mysterious history. Companion is no exception as the film takes place in a vacation home owned by said Russian (Rupert Friend), who is hosting his mistress Kat’s (Megan Suri) friends, Josh and Eli (Harvey Guillén); each bringing their Companions – Iris and robo-boyfriend Patrick (Lukas Gage). Though seemingly out of place with the tone of the film, the Russian turns out to be a more innocent man than you would think, the group of friends (minus the robots) being the real mobsters who hope to steal his fortune. As tensions rise and blood spews, it is no wonder we see Iris as the cool, calm, and collected one. 

From meeting Josh’s friends for the first time to lying unsatisfied in bed, Iris appears more human than her breathing counterparts. With the help of Sophie Thatcher’s graceful execution of an endearing yet submissive Iris, both her built-in compassion and fluctuating aggression are demonstrated with a relatable ease. Iris is giddy with butterflies and thoughtfully understanding, even when the Russian tries to make an unwanted pass at her. Therefore, it is no surprise Iris feels betrayed when told about her true form, the nature of her pseudo-relationship, and the violent pawn she plays in Josh’s greedy con. 

With a horrible case of the “victim mentality” and approach to derogatory language like “fuck-bot,” Jack Quaid adds an insufferable spunk to Josh’s character that paints the picture as to why he had to buy a Companion in the first place (pre-murderous ploys). He is exploitative and self-destructive, growing more ruthless as the film progresses and hyperbolically representing an incel’s potential to wreak havoc on women’s lives and regress society as a whole. At the end of the film, Iris gets a chance to bruise his ego with similar sentiments, and in true Josh fashion, he lays victim to a disaster of his own making.

However, it is refreshing to see a man (Drew Hancock) write such a charming film. Still red with blood and violently jarring, sure. But through the opening sequence to the ending credits, Companion is super pink and wildly optimistic – a forward-thinking film just as much as it is a mainstream, commercial horror movie. He entertains the idea of faith in advancing technology by having the audience empathize with a robot protagonist, and simultaneously encourages the pursuit of self-love as the autonomous beings we are. While his filmography is not expansive, Hancock’s creative direction and storytelling proves great potential is in our midst.  

So the next time your air conditioning stops working in the heat of the summer or your air fryer burns your chicken nuggets to a crisp, you may want to consider your capitalist overconsumption and exploitation to be the problem. And if you are feeling lonely, there is nothing easier than downloading Tinder. At the very least, you increase your chances of finding love in the vessel of a breathing human on the other side of that dystopian screen – but then again, that is sometimes worse.