Users

Because “Users” is so captivating from a technical perspective, it’s frustrating to discover how scattered it is narratively.

The film is at its best when it allows its images and sounds to let us feel things without naming them.

The film’s triumph is keeping us on our toes by sending us into an ether where fear and wonder live hand in hand.

While its ideas might fail to fully coalesce, the film is unnervingly beautiful; an immersive and mesmeric aural and visual experience.

The film's hypnotic rhythms can become soporific at times. It doesn't help that so many of its spoken arguments are phrased as questions the speaker is uninterested in answering or further investigating.

Users, sumptuous as it is to look at, has little new to say about the bane and boon that is modern technology.

...[a] meditation about technology and how it is changing humanity, personalized by the director’s ruminations about her young son and the world he will face.

The film gave me a marked level of optimism and the belief that mankind has the will and, hopefully, the desire to return to a time when devices didn’t claim our attention so much that we forever lose touch with our fellow in-the-flesh human counterparts.

It becomes clear that the deepest meaning of this documentary, Users, is the terrifying future that capitalism is presently preparing for our one and only planet...

It might not matter if the filmmaking was strong enough to overcome these intellectual shortcomings, but Users quickly becomes repetitive, utilizing the same formal schemes over and over again.