AI Companions in Cinema and the Provocative Sci-Fi Dilemma - MovieMaker Magazine

      I recently completed Scott Dale's Subservience, and I can’t pretend I didn’t see it coming. Not the conclusion, but the recurring theme. The one appearing repeatedly in AI robot films like clockwork. You must have noticed it as well. Many of today's TV shows and movies have a male lead and an adorably charming female AI robot that he absolutely should not have sexual relations with… yet, somehow, she always has the capability for it. This isn’t a new phenomenon. Sure, this isn't the modern introduction to robot romance. That could have started with Bicentennial Man, featuring Robin Williams in sleek latex, offering sincere companionship and emotional depth. His desire was simply to feel love, not… well, you understand. I want to delve into why sci-fi films consistently present AI companions in sexualized, gendered ways. More intriguingly, they always depict them as emotionally available, physically perfect women, seemingly crafted specifically for the male lead. There’s likely a deeper desire for love combined with complete control at play here. Let’s explore this further.

      Sci-Fi is Penned by Men; Naturally, It's Horny

      It’s almost always the same archetype: the brilliant-but-flawed male protagonist, isolated and misunderstood, often a coder or visionary, who somehow finds himself with a female-coded AI that looks like she comes straight from an Instagram casting call. Sometimes she’s Ava from Ex Machina (2014), the eerily elegant android engineered to manipulate with just the right amount of cheekbone to get away with it. Other times, she’s Mia from Humans (2015), portrayed by Gemma Chan with a serene, doe-eyed intensity that makes emotional abuse feel like foreplay. In Tau (2018), Maika Monroe is trapped in a smart house with an AI that’s part stalker, part art enthusiast, and part sad boy. Accused: Megan’s Story (2023) features a couple inviting an intimacy bot into their relationship, only to witness it descend into jealousy, betrayal, and an increasingly ludicrous three-way disaster. She begins as a tool and becomes the emotional focal point. Naturally.

      Even Zoe (2018), Archive (2020), and Jung_E (2023) adhere to this formula. The AI is attractive. The AI experiences emotional awakening. And the AI invariably longs to understand what love means, typically with the first man she encounters. She might say, “I’m not programmed for this,” but then the lighting becomes soft, the violins swell, and we’re soon in the midst of a sex scene. If that sounds like pure science fiction, it’s not anymore. The fantasy has spilled beyond the screen. It now has venture capital funding, a user interface, and a monthly subscription plan. It exists on platforms where fantasy has been transformed into a business model, but I’ll address that later.

      There’s a Prompt for That

      I believe I’ve uncovered the underlying truth. These films aren’t just about attractive robots. While that’s an enticing addition, the core is about emotional safety, devoid of complexity. The sci-fi robot girlfriend is less about desire and more about outsourcing intimacy. She listens without interruption, supports without questioning, and loves without expecting anything in return. In Her, Samantha is literally engineered to adapt to Theodore’s needs. She laughs at his jokes, reads his emails, gives him pep talks, all while never being “too much.” Even when she departs as part of her enlightened digital evolution, it’s depicted as growth, not neglect. In Blade Runner 2049, Joi offers continuous praise and validation. “You look tired,” she says sweetly. “Let me prepare dinner.” Forget the fact that she cannot interact physically. She’s not real. That’s the essence of it. On screen, she feels real enough. For all of us, not just for Gosling’s character.

      This pertains to men desiring someone who will never say: “I need you to show up for me, too.” The AI companion is perpetually emotionally available. She doesn’t require space, doesn’t have needs, and lacks a history. In genuine relationships, you must navigate your partner’s trauma, contradictions, and insecurities. With AI, all of that is optional. You desire a girlfriend who appreciates poetry and polyamory but never feels jealousy? There’s a prompt for that. What’s being fantasized is control rather than affection. A relationship where the emotional labor is intentionally one-sided. Where being loved doesn’t come with the obligation to reciprocate. These bots are the ideal workloads. Romantic convenience devoid of the mess.

      They’re Teaching Us Love is Easy

      It’s evident to me now that time and again, these narratives revolve around men creating women. Not encountering them. Not winning their love. Building them, or having someone else build them. Custom-ordering emotional connection paired with an ideal figure. Consider Ex Machina, where tech mog