Since January, nearly every film I've gone to has forced me to watch one of the same two repetitive trailers for Oblivion. Here I am, the trailers said, the movie you didn't ask for, the movie in which Tom Cruise plays a human Wall-E and flexes his Everyman muscle by putting on a Yankees cap and talkin' football on a post-apocalyptic planet. I resented those trailers just as I tend to resent Hollywood's insistence in casting Tom Cruise, repeatedly, as an action figure-sized hero. Resentment, though, only goes so far when you're a cinephile with a taste for science fiction. From Oblivion I sensed something other than just another repetitive, robotic action film, and so I surprised myself by deciding to go and see it. As the film wore on, I surprised myself further: I liked it, really, quite a bit even as I immediately recognized some of its more obvious flaws or was irritated by its rigid adherence to generic conventions. Since seeing the film, I've been trying to sort out exactly why it is that I can't seem to hold the film's faults against it, and why it is that my sense of its winning qualities seems to be a very unpopular opinion. Critical audiences seem to actively want to hate Oblivion, but their quippy loathing seems oddly misguided.