Since the onset of online dating roughly thirty years ago, there’s no denying the familiar, tried-and-true routine of going on that first date, only to discover your potential partner isn’t remotely what was described in their profile, nor a match to the photo they would claim was indeed legitimate. Countless romantics can relate; what’s a worse way to start a relationship than through the lens of a lie? With each passing year, dinosaurs counting Kiss.com and Match.com amongst their ranks have moved aside in favor of social media, where it’s easier than ever to create a persona ranging from slightly exaggerated to completely false. AI has taken it several steps further, in many ways replacing Photoshop as the new means of drastically touching up one’s profile pic, and in-person networking, calling back to the mix and mingle days of old, now sees an alternative in the number of followers, likes, and overall connections one can accumulate. Sound easy? If not, worry no further, as a movie called “Deepfake” is here to make it worse!
This, however, is a compliment. Though the term carries a negative connotation due to, among other chilling examples, the spread of false information through realistic depictions of humans, this so-named film plunges into the world of dating and hits the accelerator whenever possible, threatening to careen further out of control even when it seems it has already reached its peak. Jessica DiGiovanni plays Jane, a 30-something project manager reeling from a devastating breakup; with people she barely regards as friends moving ahead in life through families and promotions, Jane needs her own change for the better, and after pursuing a recommendation to sign up for a app that will send someone to one’s home, acting as a friend, Jane quickly leaps; it’s here that she meets Zoe (Sophia Lucia Parola), a cheerful sort more than happy to listen as Jane drones endlessly about her ex. Sensing Jane’s wish for some manner of self-improvement, a new service enters the fray, this time in the form of London (Jocelyn Weisman), ready to launch a full makeover beyond simply offering a wardrobe recommendation or two. A multi-pronged approach soon materializes, with a small team joining to help transform Jane into something of a brand, attracting connections to her various social media platforms and even integrating product partnerships. By now, you might be curious: could her ex somehow figure into such a plan?
It’s not hard to figure out, especially as several flashbacks depict the gradual unraveling of the relationship over time, from showing simple conversations about reciprocating a foot rub to the day it all came grinding, albeit emotionally, to a halt. However, as Jane begins to question the increasingly overwhelming plan and bills mount, has her original idea been a success? Have she and Zoe become genuine friends, or does Zoe see something more meaningful in the like-minded Zoomer that is London? Unafraid to speak her mind when questioning Jane’s outfits or age, Jane’s rising number of followers does prove to be an addictive number upon which to gaze…could her ex be among them? When a woman arrives at Jane’s door, claiming to have been hired to pose as Jane (now using the handle “Jane 2.0”), has Jane 1.0, by now, completely lost the plot?
There’s no question as to the rush of dopamine one receives when a like or two comes their way in reaction to an online post. “Deepfake” toys with this sensation, while allowing the narrative to purposely overstack itself with bizarre additions to Jane’s story that could, in any other film, threaten to bury a core message without a second thought; here, it all works in collaboration with itself, with every new piece added to Jane’s puzzle a welcome component we didn’t even know the film needed moment earlier. As Jane, DiGiovanni dances between post-breakup ennui and a visibly fraying mental state as she can’t help but watch her life become commandeered by people who claim to help, even as they transparently clutch their own agendas. Her every question as to the purpose of it all only seems to send things off in a new, stressful direction, with London at the helm; as terrific as DiGiovanni may be, Weisman runs away with a Gen Z performance easily brushed off as cliché, but doing so would dramatically undercut the work she puts into turning up the stereotype as it ascends into a realm both enjoyably nasty and undeniably hilarious. Comments about Jane’s “retro” clothing or, when learning Jane’s age, recoiling as she utters, “My mom did that once,” render every moment she occupies the screen, almost always with DiGiovanni or Parola in tow, unable to ignore. For a film ultimately about app culture, this one’s pretty funny. Does a solution exist for Jane’s dilemma of balancing work life with brand life? There’s even an app for that!
Does an additional substance exist? Is there a greater meaning than what’s presented, other than a possible warning about not allowing oneself to fall victim to current tech trends and, as exhaustive a phrase as it may be, live in the moment? It’s unclear whether Jane’s trying to do just that, or whether that moment is one from which she wishes to escape, presumably by returning to a past where the breakup never happened. Is that, truly, what Jane wants? It may not always be obvious. And yet, it sure is fun to watch. [A]
