Directed by Joe Hunting / 2022 / Documentary / 91 Minutes
Review by Rob Deb
12th June 2022
The Pitch: Virtual reality for many is as far away a place as can be imagined. In his groundbreaking work, first-time feature director Joe Hunting examines this new frontier for human engagement with surprising tenderness. Following a number of couples who met in VR during the pandemic, Hunting leads with romance but opens an exploration of technology, borders, and imagination. One of the most visually singular and formally exciting documents of the COVID-19 lockdown, We Met in Virtual Reality is a powerful testament to the new paths to connection that creativity can forge. Everything from belly dancing, sign language lessons, and hotly contested billiards games bring an unexpected familiarity to these never-before-seen spaces.
Meeting online used to be a stigma when I was in my 20s. Couples would make up stories about hobbies and mutual friends to admit to the digital connection precursing the physical. My first experience that computers were used to start relationships was in a bizarre form of play by mail (I'm 46) where people would write down their physical actions and then post it to their potential partner. A thing I was only aware of when a flatmate's prospective partner turned up. Took one look at him. And immediately said no and picked her unpacked bag up to get the next flight to the states. I lived in Colchester. It was 1995. We Met In Virtual Reality shows the leaps and bounds both social and technological borders have leapt in the decades since. Joe Hunting takes a documentary/humour approach through the editing, creating a very human portrait through three female leads and how they interact in VRCHAT with their friends and partners.
There is absolutely no exposition of what VR Chat is. A preliminary piece of text about bodysuits at the beginning and then we are treated to one of the funniest kitchen sink scenes ever as an Elf, 2 anime girls and a robot in the back try to drive a car along a road before the elf admits he can't actually drive, all while pop music jauntily plays in the background. It tells you straight off who these personalities are and gives you everything you need to know and that's the end of it! Perfect.
We first meet Jenny, the social awakening of VR through a virtual sign language teacher who helps ground the practical applications and the cultural impact of VRCHAT. As this documentary has been filmed during COVID, the isolation that so many people have experienced is addressed dryly, though with compassion. Joe allows all the characters to express themselves in ways they probably would not in real life. The film has an earnest quality throughout that keeps you invested in their lives. It contrasts so well with the day-glow, RPG surroundings that it heightens the emotions and adds a great sense of humour without trivialising their feelings.
We move onto two relationships firmly from the female perspective as 'Dust Bunny' and 'IsYourBoi' (one a belly dancer, the other an ‘Exotic virtual Dancer’) and their respective partners. These participants, together with Jenny give a largely feminine perspective on the digital landscape which also stands out as so much we see in the broader landscape tends to be “helm, gun, kiss all, arghhhhhhh”. There is a candidacy with Joe about their personal lives that we never see IRL and between a memorial for a friend dealing with sibling suicide to an online marriage made in VR, we understand and can see they are not escaping real life but that VR has played a role in helping them cope and process. There is no tension in the sense that it is celebratory and the bleaker moments of the last two years are brushed into how much people miss their hairdresser. But given the film has been made in such a recent space with its own difficulties building into relationships, long-distance or otherwise, I think that is a wise choice. This is not an expose, it's ‘Friends’ with wings, horns, and occasionally, in space.
In 1995 I saw a distraught flatmate have the door shut on him in his own flat. In 2022. And being that bit older. it's simply refreshing to see young people get drunk and sit on a toaster, even digitally and express themselves in far better, articulate and mature ways than we did. It's a great place to visit and is immersive. Could I live there? No. But that's because I like doors and have a shed to paint. But for a period, I do think you should join the joyride.
Read more of Rob Deb’s reviews here.