Every year since I started reviewing films there seems to be one Oscar contender the majority of critics fall over themselves like drunken Magi to adore that I just don’t get. In 2011 it was The Artist. In 2012, Beasts of the Southern Wild, a.k.a. ‘that bathtub movie.’ This year it’s Spike Jonze’s Her.
Let me state clearly that I’m nowhere near as apoplectic about Her’s acclaim as I was about the other two bugaboos. It’s a sweet film with lots to love about the story, its characters and its message — if I didn’t think that I’d be a psychopath. And it is ever so exquisitely made.