Companion: Predictable Plot, Perfect Execution
by Jasmine Edwards
This review may contain spoilers.
Companion (2025) is like if Alex Garland’s Ex Machina (2014) and the song “Build a Bitch” by Bella Poarch had the perfect cinematic baby—with the perfect soundtrack, too, of course. Starring the modern final girl of final girls, Sophie Thatcher, Companion approaches themes of misogyny, female rage, and domestic violence with the same subtlety as a hammer to the head. Ultimately, this makes the plot fully predictable. But that doesn’t make the movie any less compelling, especially with such searing commentary.
Just like Mickey 17 (2025), Companion explores how people feel—and in many ways, are—disposable to the rich and/or powerful. A woman protagonist, however, drives the point home even harder. As an “emotional support robot” created by the company Empathix, Iris’ (Sophie Thatcher) expendability is literally programmed in. She is a docile, devoted plaything. She's also fully incapable of lying to her manipulative owner, Josh (Jack Quaid). He can change her hair and eye color, vocal pitch and tone, and even her intelligence to suit his whims and desires.
And desire he does. Although not explicit, the sex scenes highlight how Josh uses Iris solely for his physical gratification. Plus, after he’s finished, he turns over to sleep and shuts Iris down. Maybe if she was human, he would have pretended to care about reciprocating. But with an on/off switch to shuttle away inconveniences like pleasing your partner, why would he?
Of course, Josh’s friends all react differently to Iris. A fellow straight man, Sergey (Rupert Friend), treats her like a lifeless prostitute. The gay couple—Eli (Harvey Guillén) and Patrick (Lukas Gage)—consider themselves allies, doing their best to include Iris. However, both men skirt around the truth of her situation, allowing Josh to maintain his control over Iris without consequences or criticism.
Meanwhile Kat (Megan Suri) despises what Iris stands for, bemoaning how Iris makes her feel “replaceable.” Yet Kat doesn’t judge Josh for his choice to date a glorified plastic doll. After all, he deserves love. Apparently, the world is rigged against people like him (middle class cisgender heterosexual white men). Unfortunately, women forgive “nice guys” for transgressions like this in real life all the time, so playing it out on film is the perfect choice.
Most interestingly, Iris does not know she’s a robot until Josh tells her (the audience knew since the trailer, though, which is the perfect touch of dramatic irony). Josh is the ultimate controlling boyfriend: sweet, soft, a “good guy” through and through, who picks out all her clothes and assures her she won’t embarrass him. That is, until he jailbreaks Iris and a peaceful vacation at a remote lake house goes haywire. Uh-oh, boyfriend—you gave your “fuckbot” autonomy. You’re not putting her back in the box anytime soon.
Thankfully, Iris grabs hold of that freedom with her perfectly manufactured teeth. With her newfound clarity comes enlightenment, aggression, and volatility. Iris steals Josh’s car, runs amok in the woods, and just generally causes problems. Yet a toxic relationship isn’t fixed in a few hours. All the odds and factory settings are against Iris escaping her abuser.
Even when offered the opportunity to hurt Josh, something stops Iris, be it the preventative measures in her system (Do no harm, love machine!) or Josh’s smooth-talking placations. “You love me too much to hurt me” is a familiar and infuriating phrase for women who have tried to break the cycle of domestic abuse only to crawl back into the arms of the man squeezing them to death.
Like I said, though—Iris is a final girl. We know from the monologue at the start of Companion that she’s going to survive Josh. It’s still interesting and inspiring to see how hard she fights to leave. After all, the outcome of a movie is only as satisfying as the effort it takes to get there.