Love Me

An oddly hopeful movie set in on a dead Earth, Love Me is about how even a robot might wade through the mess of societal expectations, internet white noise, and chronic self-doubt, and be able to achieve the truly radical — self-acceptance.

I rather enjoyed this. I had to let it overwhelm me because it's a bit of an interesting conception: thoughtful, funny, creative in terms of concept and execution.

Still, every so often “Love Me” finds a certain feeling and tone, where we can feel the vastness of human longing and measure it against the yet greater vastness and consuming blackness of space.

There are intriguing concepts at play and mesmerizing visuals, but the film feels a little tongue-tied.

The Zucheros bring a great deal of imagination to the task, and the sheer audacity of the movie is enough to make it worth watching, even if, at times, the gadgets’ sentimental education starts to feel repetitive.

“Love Me” is an empty-calories movie with not much food for thought.

Love Me tries to be a thinker, but it’s just a muddle of simplicities.

The kind of big swing that either leaves viewers cold and annoyed or totally transfixed on its wavelength. Or, like I was, both, landing somewhere in the middle.

Captures the vapidity of the social media age a little too well, just as it lives up to one of its own lines a little too well: “For a lifeform, you’re not very lively.”

Its commentary on the artificiality we create in our lives, white trite, is affecting in the end.