“Klara and the Sun” Shines Too Brightly

Klara and the Sun (Taika Waititi, 2026) 2½ out of 5 stars

I did not do Taika Waititi’s latest film, Klara and the Sun, any favors by reading its source text, Kazuo Ishiguro’s 2021 eponymous novel, this past summer. Ishiguro effectively writes the same book each time, though with vastly different narrative details, exploring themes of memory, identity, and self-awareness over and over again in manners that never cease to profoundly move me. His touch is light, his emotions restrained. That is not really Waititi’s approach to storytelling.

For this particular director, however, this new effort represents a shift of sorts, his trademark broad humor pulled back to make room for more serious elements. Sometimes the balance works, but more often the overeager jokes interrupt what genuine feeling was just about to develop. I have loved many a movie by Waititi, including his 2019 Jojo Rabbit (where pathos and comedy combined well), but not so much Klara and the Sun.

The time is a post-apocalyptic perhaps-near future, where humans have made great strides in developing robots to fill roles as “artificial friends” (or AFs), most of which serve as companions to young folks otherwise isolated at home. Those wealthy enough to afford such playmates are also usually among the “lifted,” kids who have been genetically modified to make them smarter than the average person. Unfortunately, these procedures come at a great cost to physical health and mental well-being.

When first we meet the titular Klara (Jenna Ortega, Beetlejuice 2)—an AF—she is still as-yet-unpurchased, her world confined to the store in which she has lived since gaining consciousness. Observing the street outside, she dreams of one day having someone see her in the window and fall in love. She was built to serve and thinks of little else.

And then her digital prayers are answered when the teenage Josie (Mia Tharia, The Education of Jane Cumming) walks by, interacting in a playful way to which Klara immediately responds. Though Josie’s mother (Amy Adams, Dear Evan Hansen) is cynical about Klara’s value, Josie gets her way. Soon, our protagonist is living out her most cherished fantasy. Except that the reality is more complicated than expected. And Josie is not well, death looming like a shadow over everyone’s happiness. Will Klara’s own special brand of magic be able to save her?

Part of the problem is Waititi’s interpretation of the AF behavior and personality. Even if one is not hung up on Ishiguro’s original, these creatures conduct themselves and speak in wildly inconsistent fashion. The result is jarring instead of endearing. In the book, we follow the tale through Klara’s narration, filled with wonder and longing and ultimately incapable of realizing how she never stood a chance to be happy (a common theme of the writer’s). Here, we flit around through a variety of eyes, and when we do see what Klara sees, it’s rather pedestrian and often silly.

There are many changes the director makes—none of which, to be honest, will probably matter to people who don’t know the book—but perhaps the strangest is his choice to absolve both Josie and her mother from the worst of their sins: abandoning Klara after she gives them everything. Here, their motivations are loving and kind, which misses the entire point. It’s a Disneyfied take, and even Disney films often have more bite. And yet, despite it all, I still choked up at the end. It’s not a complete wash, then, but Klara and the Sun could use, if not more gloom, then at least less sun.

Christopher Llewellyn Reed

Chris Reed is the editor of Film Festival Today. A member of both the Online Film Critics Society (OFCS) and the Washington DC Area Film Critics Association (WAFCA), and a Rotten Tomatoes-approved film critic, Chris is, in addition, lead film critic at Hammer to Nail and the author of Film Editing: Theory and Practice.