Kristen Stewart and Steven Yeun in 'Love Me'
(Bleecker Street, ShivHans Pictures)

‘Love Me’ review: A clever, zeitgeisty AI love story that makes you think

3.5/5 Smart Buoys

Love Me made me feel so many things. 

Recommended Videos

Chaotic, tragic, uplifting, unending with a world of possibilities. Love Me is filled with character, dilemma, and conflict, which is an impressive feat considering the film only has two actors. 

When Love Me first premiered at Sundance in 2024, the film was not highly praised. Instead, it was certified rotten by the Tomatometer; the popcorn score has yet to come in, as Love Me just hit theatres on January 31. 

Although some Sundance reviews have valid points about the story’s ability to sustain a 90-minute feature, Roger Ebert’s Sheila O’Malley called the film “tongue-tied.” She suggested that the co-writer-director duo Sam and Andrew Zuckero incorporated ten too many ideas. And she isn’t the only one; Rotten Tomatoes is littered with critics who feel the same way. 

However, the chaotic nature of the film was what kept me entertained. 

Roughly 800 years into the future, the human race is gone, the earth has become uninhabitable, and the sun will eventually absorb the planet and its solar system. But first, we meet a Smart Buoy as the ice melts and its solar panel kickstarts when it receives some sun rays. Smart Buoy silently floats, minding its business until a Satelite orbits the planet, chanting, “Welcome to Earth.” The satellite was designed as a beacon for new lifeforms on Earth. 

Smart Buoy, seeking connection, accesses the satellite’s data network and researches what life is versus what a Smart Buoy is, and thus decides to be a ‘lifeform’ instead and adopts the satellite to do the same. Smart Buoy becomes Me, played by Kirsten Stewart, and the Satelite becomes Iam, played by Steven Yeun. 

As Love Me continues, Me domineers the relationship with an obsession with an influencer from before the human race died off: Her name was Deija, and her partner was Liam; using this couple as a reference, Me pigeonholes Iam into being the Liam to her Deija-based identity. 

What follows is the intimate dissection of human identity in a meta-space where two AI beings figure out what it means to be alive. Yet, Me and Iam’s experiences are vastly different. Where Me presents as fully human to Iam and internally struggles with personal identity, Iam openly struggles with the existential concept of being alive. 

The deceit and dissonance between the two robots’ crisis fractures Me’s reality and forces Iam to radicalize and experience life in the greater context of AI and its endless possibilities. Therefore, what starts as Me reaching for existence outside their defined role ends with Iam broadening the scope more authentically. The gendering of these two characters, Me as female and Iam as male, presents an even mightier critique of gender expression in heterosexual relationships.

While setting the story in a post-apocalyptic world without humans, the center of the message is very true to human existence. Representing a false narrative about oneself is extremely common online and in person, which has an unfortunate domino effect where others compare themselves and question their experiences in a harsh, critical view compared to a life that isn’t real. Love Me is a case study of this human experience in a strictly technological environment, generating the same feeling and effect. 

Simplifying the narrative to that degree gives you a very streamlined film experience. However, Love Me is not streamlined. The conflict is infiltrated by chaos. The external factors are that the environment outside the meta space in the ‘real world’ is a disintegrating landscape waiting to be swallowed by the sun. Yet, these two robots heed this no mind; in fact, they are offered endless happiness provided by a surviving data plate. It wasn’t my favorite ending in the world; I don’t think it quite measured up to the entirety of the film’s many intricate points. 

Despite the final scene, Love Me was a treat to watch. Kirsten Stewart and Steven Yeun make an unlikely pair, but they are charismatic and soul-bonded by their loneliness. I loved both characters in all their agonizing and self-realization. However, the story could have equally played in a different direction, were the tone slightly darker or even more so if the genders were reversed. As is, the heteronormative presentation of Iam and Me, as Me chose it to be, is a reproduction of traditional romantic-comedy qualities; she fell first, but he fell harder. 

Yet, considering the covert deceit that spearheaded the entire relationship, mingling with the domineering perfectionism of Me’s ideal existence, also presents the opportunity to explore the gaslighting and manipulation of narcissistic identities. Were Me the satellite—containing a data plate and access to creating a meta-verse—I don’t believe Iam would have had the opportunity to expand beyond the set boundaries of their relationship. It would, therefore, be a trap, a mentally abusive relationship—a psychological thriller. Here lies the key to the whole story: the specific gendering of the two AIs and their power roles. Iam holds the key to the meta-verse, and Me is landlocked without solar power. Were roles reversed, the tone would have never worked. 

Love Me is an intriguing film exploring and asking questions about human existence through the readily available metaphor that is AI. Love Me is a clever zeitgeisty story that both entertains and makes you think.


The Mary Sue is supported by our audience. When you purchase through links on our site, we may earn a small affiliate commission. Learn more about our Affiliate Policy
Author
Image of Isobel Grieve
Isobel Grieve
Isobel Grieve is a Freelance Writer for The Mary Sue. She scours the internet for culture, controversies, and celebrity News, and when she isn't writing about that, she's deep-diving into books, TV and movies for meaning and hidden lore. Isobel has a BAH in English, Cinema and Media Studies, and she has over two years of professional writing experience in the Entertainment industry on the Toronto Guardian, TV Obsessive, Film Obsessive, and InBetweenDrafts. You can read her unfiltered thoughts on Twitter @isobelgrieve