I'm Your Man hits theaters on Friday, Sept. 24.
What if you could design your perfect match from scratch? A person who is customized to be just your type, programmed to shower you with compliments, built to fulfill your every need, be it breakfast in bed, a shoulder to cry on, or great sex. The only catch is that they’re a robot. Would that be a dealbreaker? That’s the question at the center of the high-concept German comedy I’m Your Man, which stars a perfectly cast Dan Stevens as a dream guy with a few glitches. While this critically heralded leading man brings plenty of personality to the role of a robot, this fascinating film’s greatest asset is how it transforms from a cheeky rom-com into something more philosophical but no less fun.
With a bot-meets-girl plotline, I’m Your Man begins with a familiar rom-com dynamic. Alma (Maren Eggert) is a career-driven single woman, an academic who is not interested in love. Besotted Tom (Stevens) is a dashing man who aims to change that and only has eyes for her. He can dance, quote poetry, and literally sweep her off her feet with ease. However, Alma knows from the start that Tom is an android operating on an algorithm aimed to please. She’s been asked to test him out for three weeks, then provide an evaluation that could determine whether artificial intelligence automatons might be given the rights to marry, work, and live in the world alongside humans. So, his attempts to woo her are met with a clinical side-eye.
Such a Dream Guy seems a throwback casting for Stevens, who first broke through as the romantic hero Matthew Crawley on Downton Abbey. However, Stevens fled that wildly popular series to plunge himself into far riskier projects, like the kaiju comedy Colossal, the grisly horror thriller The Guest, the madcap spoof Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga, and the undersung animated fantasy series Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, (on which he plays a deranged and tyrannical mandrill known as Scarlemagne). That’s all to say that the moment Stevens shows up with a guileless smile and breezy banter, fans should suspect something stranger is coming. Stevens is too daring a performer to play a pat dreamboat. Indeed, his Tom becomes a sly critique of this very concept. He is charming, smart, and giving. However, his charm is a program. His smarts come from wifi access to the internet. His generosity is not a choice, but a command: Make Alma happy. But what does it mean if happiness comes through a simulation?
Alma immediately resents the idea that any human — though perhaps her especially — could be so easily sated. Tom insists he wants to be her partner, but also casually mentions he is incapable of wanting anything. He cannot feel and so cannot love. He is an advanced app meant to plug a deeply human need and a million complicated wants. But even as she loathes what Tom’s existence might mean for mankind, Alma yearns to be held, to be seen, to be told she is loved. Even as she swoons, however, I’m Your Man never lets us forget that Tom is not the man of her dreams, but a robot.
The movie doesn’t employ noticeable sci-fi spectacle, like sparks or Ex Machina-style metal limbs to make this clear. Actually, Tom’s appearance is so human, so placidly but pleasantly so, that you might begin to suspect that he’ll pull a Short Circuit and reveal he’s been upgraded to having a soul! But co-writer/director Maria Schrader won’t let us off so easy. Stevens’ performance steadily but subtly reminds us of Tom’s falseness. His movements are a touch too polished to feel natural. Whether he’s tidying up in a bathrobe or lounging on a sofa, Tom seems posed yet effortless, like a mannequin masterfully displayed. Meanwhile, Alma struggles with her desire for what Tom could be and the reality of what he is. Eggert embodies this internal conflict with a palpable anxiety and low-boil rage. By portraying Tom as blithe and inhumanly patient in the face of her wrath, Stevens proves her perfect partner. This dynamic is funny on its face — a kind of stooge and straight-man chemistry — but it’s troubling on reflection. For instance, when a drunken Alma demands that Tom drop his trousers, her jibes at his nakedness are meant to mock him. However, these barbs hit her harder, because this is what she’s supposed to want. And this is how she’s treating something that is only trying to be exactly what she wants.
Shrewdly, the screenplay by Schrader and Jan Schomburg uses this unlikely romance to touch on topics like professional jealousy, ego, mortality, grief, regret, and — most powerfully — what human connection means in a world where technology might fulfill every desire. With such richness, it’s little surprise Germany has picked I’m Your Man for its Oscar submission. Yet, despite its potentially grim content, I’m Your Man never sinks into dourness. Schrader maintains an intoxicating exuberance by relishing in the moments of wonder, be it enjoying a convoluted coffee drink, running barefoot in a field of grass, or sharing a laugh with a lover by watching “epic fail” videos together. Refreshingly, this film about what it means to be human refuses to take itself too seriously. Humor is found in silly dances, awkward exchanges, and the occasional wicked burn. In this blend of joy and pain, Schrader and her stars scratch at the experience of existence, for better and worse. Through every step, Eggert is leading, captivating and confident — even when her character is castigating or confounded. Stevens supports her by being sharply focused, slyly funny, and quietly unnerving.