In what seems to be the near future, a married couple and their young daughter deal their "techno-sapien" android/nanny Yang ceasing to function. As the husband tries to get him (note, not "it") refurbished, he learns more about Yang's life, both with his family and the one before he met them. "Technos" like Yang are equipped with memory that allow them to record a few seconds each day, and in some of the film's finest moments, the husband gains access to these. It's touching to see what was notable to Yang, who is more human-like (or even Christ-like) than machine, and Kogonada explores what it means to be a conscious organism in a world where technology could possibly create consciousness.

Despite the premise, After Yang seems to deal more with death and the loss of a gentle person in one's life than it does with the traditional themes of robots in science fiction. It certainly doesn't pursue some of the more interesting angles, e.g. The privacy breach Yang represents. When the company "recycles" technos, you see, it has access to a massive amount of information about the family they were with. We see that Yang is warm and gentle, in direct contrast to specter of a high-tech Big Brother or the cool, emotionless tension we see in the parents, and it made me wonder whether it was possible to create organisms that are better than humans, and not the apocalyptic Terminator type devices seen elsewhere.

It's all a very interesting concept, but I'm not sure Kogonada did as much with it as he could have. He also moves this film along at too slow a pace, one bordering on pretentiousness. The wonderful dance sequence in the opening credits and Mitski's cover of Glide help breathe life into it, but not enough for me to truly love this film. Maybe more perspective from the little girl or mother, or maybe letting up on the brake to allow for more of development in the story would have done it for me. Worth seeing though.

When I check to see how much time is left in a movie, I know it's a stinker. "Profound, sincere, beautiful, meaningful, contemplative, etc." lose their meaning when one's asleep.

Kogonada may be the best director working today, and I say that while considering the fact that he only has only released two feature length movies. He's doing what he does best better than anyone else does what they do best. Quality over quantity, beautifully shot, emotionally charged, cathartic movies.

His movies are not for everyone, but for fans of Ozu and Japanese/Eastern Asian sentiment in movies he is a Modern, updated version.

Note: Ozu should be appreciated, but to say some of his movies did not age is absurd, most 40s/50s movies show some age, and this does not exclude the greats (except maybe Kurosawa).

I would say whether you are watching this or Columbus (2017), don't search too hard for strongly pronounced, singular themes on the human condition. Otherwise, you'll get lost in all of them and end up like the top commenters calling the movie pretentious and boring while having never watched a French movie from the 60s.

Kogonada makes movies that make you feel as opposed to think. I didn't even know why I was feeling certain emotions, but I certainly did. That's okay though, not everything needs to be so black and white.

I think 10 different people could watch this movie and have 10 different opinions about what it is about, and they could all be right. But truly, don't think so hard, it's not that type of movie.