Klara and the Sun (2026)

Klara and the Sun Review: A Gentle Sci-Fi Fable With Uneven Execution

Waititi's Restrained Direction

Taika Waititi trades his signature manic energy for something quieter in Klara and the Sun, adapting Kazuo Ishiguro's Nobel Prize-winning novel with a reverence that sometimes borders on inertia. The New Zealand/UK/US co-production shows in the film's textured, lived-in future — neither sleek utopia nor gritty dystopia, but a world where Artificial Friends sit in store windows waiting for children who may never come. Waititi's camera lingers on Klara's solar-powered observations, capturing dust motes in afternoon light with almost devotional patience. The production design deserves particular praise: the AF store's sterile warmth, the family home's cluttered grief, the countryside's overgrown beauty all feel deliberately chosen. Yet this restraint occasionally curdles into passivity; scenes that need dramatic tension dissolve into mood, and the 116-minute runtime feels longer than its modest length suggests. Waititi seems so afraid of overdirecting that he occasionally underdirects, letting moments that should land with weight simply float by.

Ortega Anchors an Exceptional Ensemble

Jenna Ortega carries the film's emotional weight as Klara, conveying artificial consciousness without robotic clichés — her stillness is deliberate, her curiosity tinged with something resembling yearning. She finds nuance in the character's limited vocabulary and literal interpretations, making Klara's devotion feel earned rather than programmed. Mia Tharia's Josie balances fragility and quiet defiance, her physical performance conveying illness without melodrama. Amy Adams brings layered weariness to Chrissie, a mother navigating grief and the ethics of genetic "lifting" with a complexity the script only hints at. Natasha Lyonne's Manager adds sardonic warmth in limited screen time, and Steve Buscemi — though underutilized in a role that could have used his particular gravity — grounds his scenes with lived-in authenticity. Rachel House and Davida McKenzie round out a cast that elevates material occasionally asking them to embody themes rather than fully realized characters.

Big Ideas, Small Payoffs

Ishiguro's novel explored love, mortality, and what it means to be human through an AF's limited perspective. Dahvi Waller and Waititi's screenplay preserves the premise but struggles to translate interiority to screen. The "Sun" as quasi-deity works metaphorically on the page but feels awkwardly literalized here, undermining the ambiguity that made the novel haunting. Key relationships — particularly Klara's bond with Rick (Aran Murphy) — develop in narrative shorthand, robbing pivotal moments of earned emotion. The film raises profound questions about substitution, sacrifice, and the commodification of care, then resolves them with a gentleness that reads as evasion rather than grace. The third act's emotional climax arrives with insufficient setup, leaving the viewer admiring the craft while feeling strangely unmoved.

Who Will Connect

Viewers seeking Ex Machina-style intellectual provocation may find the pace glacial; those drawn to Her's tender melancholy will recognize a kindred spirit, albeit one less assured in its execution. Families with teens might appreciate the PG-13 exploration of technology's role in emotional lives, though the film's deliberate rhythm demands patience younger viewers may not possess. Ultimately, Klara and the Sun is a beautiful, flawed vessel — one that carries profound questions but doesn't always know where to dock.