Sometimes when the camera is rolling, your true self comes out. So I’ll just admit it freely: the scene in “Birdman” where the New York Times theater critic (Lindsay Duncan) tells Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton) that she’s going to pan his stupid play, no matter how good it is, makes me angry on two levels. Number one, any critic who pre-emptively offered forth that opinion from a respected entity such as the Times would be sacked in a second. So: not realistic. By any measure.

Number two, that’s a pretty reactionary position for co-writer/director Alejandro González Iñárritu to take. Does he really have such thin skin about bad reviews that he has to manufacture such a false turning-point moment like this in his movie?

It’s one of a couple things about “Birdman” that made its whole actor-is-God mentality a little hard to swallow.

Still, the film can be admired on all technical levels, and it’s probably the favorite to win best picture at the Academy Awards on Sunday night. I’m holding out hope for “Boyhood” to justifiably win that and best director (for Richard Linklater), but as Kurt Vonnegut said, “I still believe that peace and plenty and happiness can be worked out some way. I am a fool.”

Watch me break down all the Oscar craziness right here:

“Citizenfour,” a thrilling, you-are-there vérité documentary widely considered to be the odds-on winner in its Oscar category come Sunday night, is currently suffering from frontrunner’s disease.

After it was released to almost universal acclaim last October (it’s now playing at Liberty Hall), I’ve seen a recent spate of opinions that criticize it this way (and I’m paraphrasing this lame argument):

“There’s a difference between a movie that’s simply culled from amazing behind-the-scenes footage and one that’s put together with skill. Director Laura Poitras happened to be the lucky filmmaker contacted by Edward Snowden to document his Earth-shaking NSA revelations.”

To that inane nonsense, I say this: Movies don’t put themselves together. Every moment, every cut, and every camera angle is an editorial choice. So is the structure of the movie, which builds its mix of fear and danger sure-footedly, starting with an opening shot of a car going into a tunnel to foreshadow the claustrophobia that will ensue.

The irony of “Citizenfour,” of course, is that while former NSA contractor Snowden exposes a massive global surveillance program that would make George Orwell cringe, he and the film are locked inside a single hotel room in Hong Kong for eight straight days, able only to watch the world’s stunned reaction on the room’s single TV set.

The original encrypted emails that Poitras receives from Snowden — who identifies himself only as “Citizenfour” — set the paranoid tone from the start. What’s fascinating about Poitras’ storytelling strategy is that she emphasizes the human drama of Snowden’s position, even as the well-spoken whistleblower insists that the focus of the news story be kept on the issues at hand and their scary, long-ranging implications.

Snowden understands that there’s an inherent interest in finding out who he is and why he’s sacrificing his own freedom to reveal classified information, but he pleads time and time again for Poitras and journalist Glenn Greenwald, who broke the story, to stick to the greater cultural importance of his revelations. He’s passionate; well-reasoned.

But Poitras knows better. She knows what makes great cinema. Snowden’s friends and family are in the dark about his whereabouts and the feds are closing in. With each mounting scene, the stakes are raised, and despite the very un-cinematic setting of a hotel room, the tension is palpable.

Poitras gives Snowden the podium to speak his mind, and his outrage is justified. He’s eloquent and strangely calm when he talks — in the middle of the most stressful time of his life — of how the dangerous precedent of this unlawful U.S. spying program truly is. Yes, “Citizenfour” largely ignores the larger context of the WikiLeaks movement, among other things, but it will also inspire debate and research beyond the film simply because it presents Snowden’s story from an alternate perspective.

Although Poitras largely stays clear of making herself a big character in “Citizenfour,” it is impossible to deny her role. The immense undertaking of capturing these moments as they happen (it’s Poitras who shot Snowden’s coming-out party that was shown on international news broadcasts) are explicated by the rigor Poitras had to exercise to keep all contact with Snowden strictly under the radar.

This danger hangs over the film as well, and lingers beyond it. Because even though we know Snowden was never apprehended, Poitras’ exciting documentary lives in the present of each moment, daring us all to have the courage of Snowden’s convictions, safety be damned.

“Citizenfour” is rated R for language. Nevermind the fact that your government has unlimited access to all your private emails. If you are under 17, you shouldn’t see this film. It’s too adult for you to handle. And monkeys are flying out of my butt.