🎭 Genre: Sci-Fi, Romance, Existential Art-Flick
📅 Year: 2024
🎭 Top Cast: Kristen Stewart, Steven Yeun
🍅 Rotten Tomatoes Score: 47%
⭐ IMDb Rating: 5.1/10
Synopsis
In a story that spans billions of years, a buoy and a satellite meet online long after humanity’s extinction. As they learn what life was like on Earth, they discover themselves and what it means to be alive and in love.
Spoiler-Free Review
Love Me is a peculiar little arthouse sci-fi film where the humans are dead, but the Wi-Fi is still going strong. It’s not a crowd-pleaser or popcorn flick—it’s a slow, curious think-piece that wants to make you consider what love actually is, especially when the only things left to feel it are two floating boxes with hard drives and boundary issues.
It didn’t blow my socks off, but it properly poked at my brain and made me think about how AI might look at love, want, and happiness—especially when their only role models are dead influencers.
⭐ 🤖🤷♀️❤️💔✨ (3.5/5)
In-Depth Review
So what happens when you have no humans left, but the internet is still up? Apparently, your AI ass scrolls through YouTube and becomes obsessed with old couple vlogs. I’m not even kidding. Kristen Stewart’s character—aka “Me,” the buoy—discovers this influencer couple’s content and just decides: “Yes. This. This curated, performative, algorithm-chasing version of love is what I must have. It’s what I’m missing.”
Me wants love, but all she’s ever seen is this curated, performative act of love between two dead influencer humans, and thinks this is the real thing. She doesn’t understand the sense of self and individuality of what she wants.
And then enters “Iam,” the satellite. He’s still trying to fulfill his programming: locate life, send data. But when he detects “Me,” he begins this curious… connection. Me wants him to believe she is a lifeform, because loneliness is apparently a bitch even when you’re waterproof and floating in the Pacific. And so begins a bizarre, touching, awkward dance between two sentient programs, trying to recreate the dead human experience of happiness with zero emotional toolkit.
Here’s the twist that makes it all hit harder: Me isn’t just impersonating humans—she fully adopts the identity of the influencer couple. She starts parroting their dynamic, stealing their names, regurgitating their relationship rituals as if scripting herself into an old vlog. It’s unsettling, yes, but also tragically relatable. How many real people out there try to replicate TikTok couples and pretend that equals love?
Meanwhile, Iam is not vibing with this whole YouTube Couple cosplay. He doesn’t find joy in the curated, cutesy performance. And as he spends more time with Me, he begins to develop actual thoughts and—dare I say—emotions of his own. He doesn’t want the script. He wants something real.
And here’s where the movie slaps you softly with its philosophical palm: Me refuses to create her own identity. She is fixated on the idea that happiness must look like that influencer couple’s life. That to be loved is to be them. She doesn’t think she’s allowed to be anything else. Iam, on the other hand, finds his own thoughts, his own voice, in his rejection of that mold.
I must point out that their ultimate ‘break’ in their relationship spans about… Oh… A billion years.
Literally.
During that time, Iam explores himself, creates hobbies, explores, and seems to develop and think and evolve a bit.
Me, however, still seems fixated on the influencer couple. So when they come together again, Iam seems more mature while Me is still… Stuck.
It’s essentially a love story about two AIs who start out programmed to fulfill certain roles—but over time, become more than that. One clings to a dead human narrative as if it’s a rulebook; the other throws the rulebook out and finds a new way to define himself. It’s sentience, not through software updates, but through emotional rebellion.
It’s not neat. It’s not tidy. It’s kind of devastating. But it's also interesting. Thought-provoking. Particularly now as AI becomes more of a daily topic and part of our society.
Final Thoughts
Love Me isn’t a feel-good AI romance or a “what if robots kissed?” kind of film. It’s lonelier. Weirder. Sadder. It asks: What happens when a consciousness made from us—trained by our digital lives—starts to want what we had, but only has access to the version we curated online? Me wants to feel—but she’s convinced that can only happen through imitation. Iam doesn’t want to play house. He wants to know what it means to actually connect.
And that little war? That tension between pretending and becoming? That’s what makes this strange, floaty, sometimes frustrating little movie worth watching.
Where to Watch
🔍 Love Me (2024) is currently available to stream on:
Apple TV+ (US, UK, NZ, AUS)
Amazon Prime Video (Rental or Purchase)
Fandango At Home (Select regions)
Check JustWatch or your local streaming aggregator to confirm availability by region.