under review

Companion (2025) follows Iris (Sophie Thatcher), a seemingly ordinary woman navigating a strained relationship with her partner Josh (Jack Quaid). As tensions rise, Iris begins to uncover disturbing truths—not just about Josh and his intentions, but about herself. The line between autonomy and programming slowly dissolves in this chilling sci-fi psychological drama.

That’s your brief synopsis! Read ahead for an analysis and spoiler-heavy reading of this film!

Reading Ahead

This was a film I’d been wanting to watch since I saw the posters. Admittedly, I was mostly motivated to watch it because of Sophie Thatcher. However, I thankfully didn’t see any trailers; had I done so, I would’ve been spoiled on the fact that Iris was a robot! I know, I know—it’s not exactly framed as a secret in the promo material (her eyes are glossed over in one of the images), but I truly experienced this movie with no idea of what it was about. Honestly, finding that out as the story progressed was really satisfying; I wish it had been a surprise for all of us!

There were hints, of course — like the moments when Iris would start Siri-ing on about the weather, which clearly nods to her AI identity. I’m not saying I missed those cues, but I did brush them off as quirky dialogue or a playful in-joke between the couple. Apparently, I’m really gullible!

First, it’s important to commend the performances from every actor involved in this project. Sophie Thatcher was excellent as Iris, but that’s no surprise. Jack Quaid, who plays Josh, always does a great job at pissing me off in the best way possible. He consistently plays annoying or intolerable characters really well (I still can’t separate him from The Hunger Games, and I ultimately project my grief onto him). I do love him in The Boys, though — he’s only a bit less annoying as Huey.

The rest of the cast was great, especially Lukas Gage as Patrick. Gage is such a compelling actor that I’m always drawn to his characters; that could also be because he consistently gets complex, magnetic roles. His role as Patrick was especially enticing — Gage captured the “bot-trapped-in-a-human-form-with-perfect-skin” vibe flawlessly.

Feminist and technology commentary

There’s no shortage of patriarchal and feminist commentary in this film, which is echoed through Kat’s character. We learn that Kat resents Iris because she sees her as a product—something designed to replace women and remove their agency in relationships. To her, why would a man bother navigating consent or mutual understanding when he can buy it with a sexbot?

Kat projects these patriarchal ideals onto Iris in a society where they’ve existed long before AI or robotic technology simply made it easier to act on them. For instance, Iris engages in small talk with Kat about her affair with Sergey, who has a wife and children. Iris questions why she, as a self-respecting woman, would entertain such an empty relationship. Kat responds, “He’d have to think of me as a human being first.”

Later, before Iris kills Sergey, he tells her he’s entitled to her body because Kat gave him the okay. “It’s what you were made for,” he says. That line is even more chilling because, at that point in the film, it hasn’t yet been explicitly revealed that Iris is a bot. The viewer is left with a sick, creeping dread. That moment forces us to reflect on the very real dehumanization of women and the way patriarchal entitlement persists — whether through cultural systems or, now, through tech.

This scene also deepens the complexity of Kat’s character: do we view her as a radical feminist who’s trying to expose how technology removes women’s autonomy and commodifies sex and relationships? Or, conversely, is she a self-hating woman who’s internalized the same misogyny she claims to resist? Her motivations remain ambiguous, and that makes her all the more interesting and layered.

Once we officially learn that Iris is a bot, the thematic commentary becomes even more striking. Josh has an app on his phone that can change everything about Iris: her personality, intelligence, voice, eye color, and more. Companion imagines a relationship that’s entirely customizable for the consumer. In a world where incels rage against the individuality of real women, it’s now possible to program a partner who will never argue, disappoint, or decline your advances. You can literally attach soft, warm skin to a vessel designed to validate your ego.

But one of the film’s more intriguing through-lines is how it explores the thin boundary between what we call “human.” Iris begins to confront the possibility that she isn’t human, and that she’s, in fact, a “sexbot,” as Josh so lovingly calls her. But she resists: she remembers things, she feels things. And that’s the horrifying question, right? In a world where AI can remember your preferences, adapt to your moods, and mimic affection and empathy, what makes a person real? I definitely got I, Robot and Her vibes during these moments.

Maybe I’m overanalyzing this. In an interview with The Nerds of Color, director Drew Hancock notes that the movie really boils down to “someone realizing they’re in a toxic relationship.” But Companion is clearly so much more than that. As Hancock himself admits, toxic masculinity and female agency are not new issues, but they’ve been embedded in society forever. That makes this a timeless (and timely) story, but what adds urgency is the rise of AI. Public use of generative AI has exploded. We’re still figuring out what it means for our relationships, for our labor, and for our sense of self. I don’t think the creators could’ve anticipated just how eerily relevant Companion would feel upon release.

This was already a strong film, but its cultural context makes it even more powerful.

Final Thoughts

I really think Companion was excellent. It’s such an interesting way to comment on the rise of AI and its implications—not just for technology, but for human relationships. It asks: What does it say about us that we build machines to mimic life, to satisfy our needs, to reflect back our power fantasies? What does it mean that we can now reproduce “womanhood” without humanity? Companion is sleek, disturbing, and smarter than it first appears.