Dir:

Spike Jonze

With: Joaquin Phoenix, Amy Adams, Scarlett Johansson

Running time: 126 minutes

AS all lovers not fighters will know, tomorrow is St Valentine's Day, otherwise known as the National Day of Tat. It is traditionally an occasion on which good taste bids goodnight Vienna and heads for the exit, particularly in the cinema. On a bad romcom night, a cinema can be almost as bad a place to be as an overpriced, overstuffed restaurant.

In such an atmosphere one can quickly fall in love with Her, Spike Jonze's achingly cool romantic drama with top notes of gentle comedy.

In a wasteland of vulgarity, Her, up for five Oscars, is a Rossetti poem and a mini-break to Berlin, a foot rub and Apple shares, airport pick-ups for a year. In short, something you want, and something the broken-hearted may well need, for this is a funny, sad Valentine, as much for those newly out of love as those still in it.

Set in Los Angeles in the near future, Her is the tale of a him. Played by Joaquin Phoenix (The Master, Walk the Line, Gladiator), Theodore works for a company that, for a fee, will write a personal letter for you, be it a thank you note to granny or an anniversary letter to a spouse.

Expressing emotion on behalf of others is something Theodore finds easier than confronting his own feelings. In the middle of a thorny divorce, Theodore's heart is an open wound, his only consolations his work, his best friend Amy (Amy Adams) and the video game he plays in which an impish Alien Child (voiced by writer-director Jonze) must be led through a series of trials.

Trudging from his lonely flat to his keyboard every day, Theodore looks to have little on the horizon to cheer him up until, that is, he learns of a new upgrade to his computer operating system. Oh for the days when the lovelorn embarked on the grand tour to salve a sore heart. This upgrade, he is promised, is new, improved, a real blessing to the modern young dude about town. It is so human-like it even has a human name, Samantha.

Voiced by Scarlett Johansson, Samantha might be seen by some as the ideal woman. Smart of brain, husky of voice, she makes no demands and gives of her time and talents freely. Talk about letting the side down, lady.

Theodore soon warms to Samantha and her ever cheery ways and the relationship progresses from work-related chats to pillow talk, albeit it is only Theodore's head on the pillow.

Just to underline the perfect nature of this man to disembodied voice relationship, the screenplay sends Theodore on a blind date with a real human (Olivia Wilde). Though she has obvious advantages, her flaws, as least as far as Theodore sees them, are only too evident. Burned in love like Theodore, she wants to know not so much that his intentions are honourable but that she will still be seeing him a week from now.

Jonze (Being John Malkovich, Adaptation, Where the Wild Things Are) continues to cleverly turn Freud's old query - what do women want? - on its head by asking what modern man desires. Is it the intimacy of a lover but without the emotional entanglement? And what does his choice say about where humanity is heading?

All weighty questions, if they were allowed to become so. Instead, Jonze keeps matters as light as a heart-shaped balloon with lots of lovely comic touches and, courtesy of the Alien Child, some full-throated cursing if matters are in danger of becoming too lovey-dovey. In keeping with the female friendliness of the piece, the funny lines are shared around the cast, with the Amy and Samantha characters given equal opportunities to shine.

Boosting the light factor still further is the design of the film. In this LA there is no smog and little bustle. Everything outside is bright and candy coloured, people stroll along plazas instead of sitting in cars. Homes are full of just the right pieces of furniture. Life is thoroughly modern but with nods to the past. Theodore's airy offices, with photo frames around computer monitors, typifies the style. That said, the choice of trousers in a future America, high in the waist and tweed, is a stretch too far.

Adams and Johansson earn their crusts as supporting players, as does Rooney Mara as Theodore's ex. Other voices ring out too, among them Brian Cox. The heaviest lifting, however, is done by Phoenix. Jonze's camera cannot get enough of Phoenix's face, whether he is happy, forlorn, excited or despondent. As we see him in such vulnerable states we cannot help but hope that all will turn out for the best. But this is a movie after all, and, like Samantha, we are engaged but not engaged, there for him but not there. Does that matter?

Jonze poses many a question. Lots of filmmakers can. The difference with Jonze is that he has the skills, confidence and imagination to provide the answers, and to know when there are none.