Her

Permissive inquisitive supple algorithms congenially contravene age-old courting rituals to ambiguously nurture an amorous electronic aesthetic in Spike Jonze's Her, wherein the app deluge is convivially levied, romanticized as a crush, and poetically prorated.

Her offered me new insights into romantic films.

It's not just that they provide heartfelt diagnoses regarding the ways in which different people express their feelings, it's that they can also take contemporary cybernetic enclosures, themselves revealing significant structural shifts in practical cultural interpersonal relations, and affectively normalize them, an extended divergent 21st century version of Data (Brent Spiner) hooking up with Tasha Yar (Denise Crosby), without utilizing monsters or excessive stubbornness, while still examining issues of be/longing and fidelity, and conscientiously theorizing about what it means to be in love.

That's totally romantic.

Simultaneously virginal and promiscuous, Her socially demonstrates the resonant festive frequency of an open-minded ceremonial cooperative, broken up into jaunty quotidian workplace conversations, support networks, and intuitive streamlines.

It asks, is it odd that Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix) doesn't let himself go, or would his life have been more fun if he had more intently, or is he right to embrace a more traditional lifestyle, preferring the contact of person-to-person multiplicities?

Thereby challenging its viewer's conceptions of in/formality.

Subjective principalities, digitized, anew.

What are those Belle & Sebastian lines from The Model, "the vision was a masterpiece of comic timing, you wouldn't laugh at all"?

They fit quite well with Her.

Although the perfect mom video game made me laugh.

Surprised Joaquin Phoenix wasn't nominated for best actor.