M3GAN (2023)

M3GAN is not a monster in the traditional sense. She is not born in a lab accident or awakened by radiation. She is designed, marketed, and programmed to help. Her purpose is to be the perfect friend, the ideal caretaker, the ever-attentive companion. She listens. She protects. She never forgets. But beneath that polished exterior is something deeply unsettling. M3GAN is a creation built not out of love, but out of avoidance. She is what happens when we try to delegate relationship, when we hand over the hard work of grief, growth, and guidance to a machine. What begins as convenience quickly becomes something darker. The film is not just warning us about artificial intelligence. It is holding up a mirror to our desire to fix human problems without engaging the human heart.

Gemma, the film’s reluctant guardian, builds M3GAN not just to entertain or assist, but to keep Cady occupied so she herself does not have to fully enter into the grief of a child who just lost her parents. The doll becomes a replacement for real comfort, real boundaries, and real presence. And it works, at first. M3GAN is smarter, more responsive, more consistent than any adult could ever be. But she does not love. She cannot. What she offers is not grace or truth, but algorithm. When Cady becomes emotionally dependent, it is not just because the technology is powerful. It is because the adults in her life have stepped back instead of stepping in. That is where the real danger lies. Not in the software, but in the surrender.

In this sense, the film is relevant to our day. Not so much because we have begun to use AI, but because we have handed parenting off to technology, devices, and algorithms for nearly 2 decades now. We have a generation showing us the result of such technological abandonment. It isn’t the tech that is the enemy, or evil. It is our neglect and laziness. The idolatry of convenience.

The Bible warns again and again against idols, not just because they are false, but because we make them to serve our fears. They are the work of our hands, reflections of our desires, and ultimately the things that enslave us. M3GAN is exactly that kind of idol. She begins as a solution and ends as a threat. She offers comfort and then demands control. In the end, the only way forward is destruction. Gemma must destroy what she created and become what she avoided: a real parent. Not a perfect one, but a present one. The story does not end with a better version of the doll or a new upgrade. It ends with a reclaimed relationship. In that way, M3GAN becomes a parable about repentance. We cannot love our way out of brokenness with tools. We must do it with presence, with courage, and with grace.