Klara and the Sun

At a time when the proliferation of artificial intelligence is broadly viewed with fear and apprehension, you could forgive any skepticism toward Klara and Sun, although its issues extend well beyond the concept.

This shallow adaptation of an acclaimed 2021 dystopian novel by Nobel Prize winner Kazuo Ishiguro from Kiwi director Taika Waititi (Jojo Rabbit) strains to be life-affirming yet lacks the nuance or tonal dexterity to yield a deeper emotional resonance.

The material suffers in the translation from page to screen, overdosing on quirks, visual anachronisms, and relentless whimsy before yanking aggressively at the heartstrings — a futuristic drama that drowns in present-day sentimentality.

Klara (Jenna Ortega) is an eccentric, sentient “artificial friend” whose chances of being purchased from a store window are dwindling as newer and more popular androids hit the market.

Nevertheless, the solar-powered Klara’s prayers to the sun are answered by Josie (Mia Tharia), a terminally ill teenager who could use some perpetually upbeat support. Klara sees it as an opportunity to return the favor of being rescued from the AI scrap heap.

They bond instantly, although Klara clashes with Josie’s mother, Chrissy (Amy Adams), who takes out her own feelings of guilt and grief.

“Buying you was her idea, but I won’t hesitate for one second to send you back,” she grumbles. “You’re still under warranty.”

As Josie’s health deteriorates, Chrissy begins to see more value in Klara as a potential vehicle for family remembrance and preservation.

At its core, the film is a heartfelt story of companionship that also functions as a cautionary tale about technological addiction replacing human interaction.

It starts in the vein of a fable for children, who might connect with Klara’s wide-eyed innocence and simple-minded optimism. She functions as a window to view the ills of humanity — somewhere between a household pet and a guardian angel.

Conveniently ignoring many obvious logical questions, the screenplay by Waititi and Dahvi Waller (“Mrs. America”) struggles to mesh the bumbling fish-out-of-water gags with a more earnest look at acceptance, memory, and mortality.

Some intriguing ideas become lost in the shuffle of a film that winds up more cloying than endearing. As for Klara and the Sun, the film isn’t as bright as either one.

Rated PG-13, 116 minutes.