In 45 minutes, the VR theater experience Tinker showed me what it’s like to have a loved one who struggles with Alzheimer’s. After putting on my Oculus Quest 2, I stepped into the role of a grandchild to a kindly grandfather, played by improvisational actor Randy Dixon. We talked a bit about my own life experiences, and then we were transported to a virtual tinker shop, where I was shrunk down to the size of a toddler as my virtual grandpa towered above me. I played with toys on the floor like my own 2-year-old, and looked with wonder as grandpa explained the mysteries of the world.

With the passing of every scene, I got a bit older, he got a bit slower, and the room evolved to suit our growing interests. The simple toys were replaced by an RC car and serious electronics gear. I could chart our relationship with the map on the wall, which listed everywhere we’d traveled throughout the US. The entire experience was a bit disconcerting at first, especially since there was an audience watching our performance, and I assumed judging my viability as a virtual grandchild.

As I neared 18 in the game, I could tell grandpa was having some issues with his memory. And by the time I visited in my 20s, he had to small notes posted throughout the office to remind him of the most basic tasks. He started to forget our trips and things we had chatted about in earlier scenes. And my heart sank as I realized our roles were swapping a bit — I had to help grandpa find his pills and play his voicemail messages.

Thankfully, director Lou Ward spared me any dramatic Pixar ending. But as we said our goodbyes in the virtual attic, I couldn’t help but feel like I was leaving someone I knew for more than just a few minutes. That’s a testament to Dixon’s skill as an actor, but also of how VR has the ability to completely transform us. Had I done a similar experience in live action, without the changing height perspective and the quick scene changes possible with virtual reality, I probably wouldn’t have been affected so much. — Devindra Hardawar

VR and immersive video has often been seen as a particularly effective medium for learning about unique perspectives. When you’re placed in the position of someone different from yourself and experience the world from their POV, you’re able to learn so much more about the difficulties they encounter. But often filmmakers who create 360-degree video tend to focus more on the medium itself rather than the story. 

Unfortunately, that was my experience with 4 Feet High VR. I was drawn to the project, which promised to be an insightful look at the life of a young wheelchair-user Juana as she explores her sexuality. It’s an important subject and a topic that too often people shy away from discussing. Though 4 Feet High was at heart an illuminating look at Juana’s life and journey, I had to fight a lot of distractions to focus on the story. One scene in particular had me struggling to keep up with the conversation because I had to keep spinning around to read the subtitles next to each character’s head. 

I wasn’t even watching scenes unfold from Juana’s perspective for this scene, so the fact that I had to keep looking around had little to do with imbuing the viewer with a sense of sympathy and more a technological flex that detracted from the story. 

Sadly, despite its impressive quality (the video is smooth and high-res, great) and technological ability, 4 Feet High ultimately doesn’t fulfil its potential. I understand the temptation to make full use of a medium like 360-degree video, but I wish storytellers would focus on telling a story instead of just dressing it up. — Cherlynn Low