5 Movies to Watch If You Loved Klara and the Sun

For decades, science fiction has imagined artificial intelligence as a threat to humanity. Now that AI is rapidly becoming part of everyday life, those once-far-fetched dystopian stories can feel uncomfortably plausible—although experts still believe a Skynet-style takeover remains unlikely. Even so, movie AI isn’t always a villain. In some stories, it becomes a source of comfort, companionship and even emotional wisdom.

That more tender idea sits at the heart of Klara and the Sun, the film adaptation of Kazuo Ishiguro’s 2021 novel. Set in a bleak future where families can buy artificial companions, the story follows Klara (Jenna Ortega), who is chosen by Josie (Mia Tharia). Josie has undergone a risky treatment designed to dramatically increase her intelligence, leaving her future uncertain. As the two grow closer, Klara begins to develop her own understanding of humanity—and of what it truly means to be a devoted friend.

Klara and the Sun offers an unusual perspective on loneliness and the ways people use technology to ease it. The film also joins a long tradition of stories asking whether an artificial being can change the definition of what it means to be human. Viewers looking for movies similar to Klara and the Sun will find plenty of memorable examples exploring the same emotional and philosophical territory.

The story behind A.I. Artificial Intelligence is almost as ambitious as the movie itself. Stanley Kubrick originally developed the project, but the visual-effects technology of the time could not fully realize his ideas. After Kubrick’s death, Steven Spielberg took over and brought the long-gestating film to theaters in 2001.

At the center of the film is David (Haley Joel Osment), an artificial child adopted by a couple whose biological son remains in cryostasis. When that child eventually returns, David is pushed aside and left questioning his purpose. Determined to become a real boy, he begins a strange and heartbreaking journey in search of the Blue Fairy.

The similarities between A.I. and Klara and the Sun are striking. Both unfold in damaged futures shaped by environmental catastrophe, and both feature artificial beings who develop a spiritual understanding of the world around them. Klara views the sun as a divine force, while David follows the promise of the Pinocchio fairy who might transform him into a real human.

Both films are ultimately concerned with unconditional love, abandonment and the cruelty people can inflict on those who depend on them. Klara and David respond to rejection not with revenge, but with unwavering devotion. Rather than depicting AI as an unstoppable menace, these stories imagine artificial beings as capable of expressing something more human than the humans around them. Their relentless commitment to love exposes how much people might learn from a creation simply following its programming to an emotionally extreme conclusion.

A recurring question in AI cinema is whether a creation that can feel empathy, grief and affection should still be considered a machine. Few recent films explore that idea as quietly and powerfully as the underappreciated 2022 drama After Yang.

The film follows a family grieving the loss of Yang (Justin H. Min), their android son. Their efforts to restore him reveal that Yang was far more than a replaceable piece of technology. He carried memories of his life with them, and as the family explores those recordings, they begin to understand that he may have found as much happiness in their shared experiences as they did.

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After Yang is considerably more subdued than Klara and the Sun. Where Taika Waititi’s film uses eccentric humor, After Yang lingers in the stillness of mourning. The family’s journey through Yang’s memories shows how experiences formed his personality, much as they shape every human being. Anyone who has experienced the loss of someone important will likely recognize the film’s intimate portrait of grief.

For a change of pace from science fiction, Hunt for the Wilderpeople showcases the offbeat comic sensibility that made Taika Waititi a distinctive filmmaker long before he directed blockbusters such as Thor: Ragnarok.

The comedy centers on Ricky (Julian Dennison), a hip-hop-loving boy sent to live with a new foster family. He quickly bonds with Bella (Rima Te Wiata), though he struggles to connect with her stern husband, Hector (Sam Neill). After Bella dies, Ricky flees into the New Zealand wilderness. Hector follows, but an injury leaves the unlikely pair dependent on each other as they try to survive and find their way home.

Beneath its constant humor, Hunt for the Wilderpeople addresses child welfare, grief and the idea that a family does not have to look conventional to be loving. That balance of silliness and emotional depth connects it to Klara and the Sun, which also uses playful moments to explore serious questions about identity and humanity. Waititi’s gift is not simply making audiences laugh, but using comedy as a doorway to genuine feeling.

Klara and the Sun comes from Kazuo Ishiguro, the author of Never Let Me Go, which was adapted into a film in 2010. Although both stories feature advanced science and speculative technology, their real focus is the effect those developments have on love, exploitation and human connection. Ishiguro has described the relationship between the novels in an interview with Canadian magazine Maclean’s: “For me, ‘Klara’ is an emotional reply to ‘Never Let Me Go.’ The last time I re-read it, probably seven or eight years ago, it struck me as a very sad book.”

That sadness runs through Never Let Me Go, which follows three friends caught in a complicated love triangle: Kathy H (Carey Mulligan), Ruth C (Keira Knightley) and Tommy D (Andrew Garfield). Their sheltered school life is shattered when they learn the truth: they are clones created to provide organs for other people. Yet their ability to create art suggests an inner life and a soul, raising the question of why they should not possess the same rights as anyone else.

Through clones in Never Let Me Go and androids in Klara and the Sun, Ishiguro examines how society defines—and denies—humanity. Both groups are treated as useful commodities before being discarded, a fictional dynamic that mirrors the way real people can be reduced to roles and ignored when their needs become inconvenient. The treatment of beings who appear human but are labeled otherwise becomes a disturbing reflection of how easily humans can dehumanize one another.

Making an AI movie today carries a particular challenge because artificial intelligence is no longer an abstract idea reserved for science fiction. Audiences naturally compare fictional systems with the technology shaping daily life. Long before AI became such a constant presence, however, Her imagined a world in which people relied on artificial intelligence to experience any meaningful sense of connection.

Following his divorce, Theodore (Joaquin Phoenix) struggles to form relationships with real people and instead falls for Samantha (voiced by Scarlett Johansson), an operating-system AI. His profession adds another revealing dimension: he writes intimate letters on behalf of people who cannot express their own feelings. Her portrays a society increasingly willing to outsource emotional labor. Theodore turns to an AI because he cannot open up to women, while others depend on him to supply words they should be writing themselves—a detail that feels especially unsettling now that modern AI tools can generate love letters on demand.

In both Her and Klara and the Sun, technology becomes a response to emotional absence. When people cannot find romance, friendship or comfort, they seek out an artificial companion that is designed—or programmed—to return their affection. That premise feels increasingly relevant in an era of widespread loneliness. The hope behind these films is that genuine human connection will ultimately prevail, rather than humanity retreating further into technology to avoid the risks of being truly known.