37. Project Nim (James Marsh)- Through recreations, talking heads, and found footage, Marsh throws a lot onto the screen, and most of it sticks. It’s as much about the idealism and wonder of the ’70s as it is about the titular chimp, and Marsh excels at getting the subjects to expose their most human foibles.

36. Bellflower (Evan Glodell)- Bellflower is a surprisingly endearing romance for its first half, then it melts into something much more idiosyncratic and deranged. Even if some of the acting is amateurish, I can confidently say that Bellflower is like nothing else this year. In the most complimentary way, it feels homemade. 

35. My Week with Marilyn (Simon Curtis)- This is being billed as, first and foremost, an acting clinic from one of the best actors on the planet. It is that—and I don’t mean to discount how brilliant Michelle Williams’ take on Marilyn Monroe is—but the picture worked for me overall. I felt as if Curtis and screenwriter Adrian Hodges went to great lengths to ground the story in the protagonist’s point of view, restraining themselves from any scenes in which he wouldn’t have been present. That approach, along with the reverence for a specific, powerful time in cinematic history, won me over.

34. Pom Wonderful Presents: The Greatest Movie Ever Sold (Morgan Spurlock)- Morgan Spurlock can be grating, especially when he’s trying to convince you of the world-changing import of what he’s trying to do. So the lowered stakes of The Greatest Movie Ever Sold actually work in his favor. Even if it won’t live on like Super Size-Me, it moves briskly and captures the knowing absurdity of modern marketing with creativity and irreverent verve.

33. Film Socialisme (Jean-Luc Godard)- Is this movie pretentious? Yes. Pretension is the air it breathes. It’s pretentiousness is not something you have to overcome; it’s something you have to accept. But at its best, Film Socialisme presents some images that you won’t be able to shake, and, though its director is eighty-one years old, it seems so modern in the way it demands the viewer to address the barriers we place over our own communication.

32. Tuesday, After Christmas (Radu Muntean)- This Romanian infidelity drama takes an hour to get going—there are only about fifteen scenes in the whole film, and they’re so long and unbroken that they’re supposed to make you uncomfortable—but, once it does settle in, it’s devastating. To those in the know: Are there any Romanian films that aren’t painstakingly realistic? Is there a Romanian Tim Burton or something? Where’s the whimsy?

31. Midnight in Paris (Woody Allen)- While it is Allen’s most accessible film in years, the adorable Midnight in Paris seems to mean more to a real Woody Allen fan. Endlessly romantic and mischievous, it still has, at times, the weight of a significant statement from the director, and the film’s final judgment on the usefulness of nostalgia seems at odds with his other late period works. Had the shrew of the Rachel McAdams character been written more carefully, I would have liked it even more.

30. Trust (David Schwimmer)- Trust deals with the aftermath of a teenage girl’s chat room manipulation and eventual rape by an older man. And that act, though it feels inevitable, doesn’t happen until about forty minutes in, which is what makes it even more chilling. Trust is one of those rare films in which every character’s actions—the affected family, not, you know, the rapist—make complete sense, even when you disagree with them. In its complex moral world, there are no good guys or bad guys. 

29. Hanna (Joe Wright)- Bolstered by a propulsive Chemical Brothers score that plays into the film’s fairy tale allegory, Hanna is overwhelmingly visceral. I didn’t completely buy the ending, but I got lost in the breathless style of the film’s action.

28. Page One: Inside the New York Times (Andrew Rossi)- On a technical level, Page One is edited effectively and balances many oversized subjects. Its real power, however, lies in its elegiac stance toward journalism. It captures a specific moment in time, the dying world of newspapers, with a steady, unflinching eye, and it can be both heartbreaking and encouraging to watch people so invested in that limited world.

27. The Descendants (Alexander Payne)- On one hand, this is minor Payne—especially the dependence on voiceover in the beginning—but minor Payne is better than most other filmmakers’ masterpieces. Clooney does fine work, but it’s Shailene Woodley who does the heavy lifting in what was the most surprising performance of the year for me. The Descendants has an emotional formalism that few other pictures of its type do: The characters have to be redeemed and forgiven through one another and themselves, and that process does not come easily. 

26. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part II (David Yates)- On a grand scale, the Harry Potter series goes out with a two hour climax. Every character gets his moment, and a complicated story meets a simple, powerful ending. The sense of foreboding is met only by the sense of relief that follows it. 

25. Submarine (Richard Ayoade)- Submarine borders on being twee and precious, but it is certain of itself in all the right ways. “World-building” is a term usually associated with sci-fi: how well an alternate universe is explained and how consistent the film is with the terms it has set. Submarine is a spare, intimate coming-of-age story, but it has fantastic world-building. As weird as the characters are, they make sense within the context of this setting, and we’re so tied to the protagonist’s point of view that we’ll go on any tangent he wants.

24. We Bought a Zoo (Cameron Crowe)- This makes so much sense. Why didn’t we figure out earlier that all of Cameron Crowe’s hackneyed sins could be absolved through the conventions of a family film? We Bought a Zoo stays just on the right side of maudlin and rides a perfect structure and an ebullient Jonsi score to triumph. Matt Damon is getting dangerously likeable, in the sense that, no matter how skilled an actor he is, no one would believe him as something like a Bond villain. I hope he sticks with roles like these.

23. The Skin I Live In (Pedro Almodovar)- In an above average year for cinema, a sneakily seductive Almodovar film got lost in the shuffle. He’s back to all of his old tricks: gender politics, hidden pasts, thorny questions of identity, the fine line of sexual perversity. But this time it’s wrapped into a superbly-plotted genre piece. The fun he’s having by playing with the mad scientist archetype is intoxicating.

22. Crazy Stupid Love (John Requa and Glenn Ficarra)- I’ll grant that there are way too many stories going on at once, but I thought Crazy Stupid Love had a certain noble sweetness, and it gives every character a moment to shine. There are some real surprises that reward a viewer willing to go where the movie takes you.

21. Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol (Brad Bird)- There’s a moment in Ghost Protocol, maybe forty minutes in, in which Tom Cruise’s Ethan Hunt scribbles a perfect pen-and-ink portrait on his hand in less than two seconds to get a positive ID on someone. It’s completely absurd—almost satirical—but the viewer goes along with it because it make sense within the frenetic, explosive universe of the film. It’s hard for me to choose my favorite action setpiece because the whole damned thing is an action setpiece. I dare someone to not have fun watching this movie.

20. 13 Assassins (Takashi Miike)- 13 Assassins’ greatest strength is that it doesn’t try to create a villain we can understand or relate to. In our quest for authenticity, we often forget how much we want to root against someone who is truly bad. And that’s exactly what the evil lord of 13 Assassins is. It’s what makes us active participants in this men-on-a-mission samurai movie. Layering the events upon a fully realized sense of honor, Miike builds and builds and builds toward a bloody battle without any missteps.

19. The Ides of March (George Clooney)- Clooney’s fourth directorial effort is self-important, but it retains the intimate conflict of its stage beginnings while expanding the scope. Ryan Gosling is volatile, but it’s Evan Rachel Wood who shines as the Ophelia to his Hamlet. I can’t believe this crackly portrait of ambition didn’t get more attention.

18. Terri (Azazel Jacobs)- On paper, this sounds lame: A high school student with low self-esteem spends his days wearing pajamas, lamenting his weight, and caring for his demented uncle, until his principal takes an interest in him, striking up a relationship that changes them both. That is what happens, but Terri dances with such a precarious tone and stamps such rich emotions and memorable moments that what happens is besides the point.

17. Contagion (Steven Soderbergh)- Some of Soderbergh’s films feel like minor experiments, but this is a splashy, multi-continent event, even as it mines an unnerving paranoia that is anything but mainstream. Tonally, the film feels detached, which is the most compelling storytelling choice of all. There are plenty of screams in this film, but Soderbergh knows that the world probably ends with a shrug.

16. Everything Must Go (Dan Rush)- Everything Must Go only would have gone as far as Will Ferrell’s lead performance, so it lucked out that he’s able to be so subdued and weary and defeated. More importantly though, Everything Must Go, which is based on an underwhelming Raymond Carver story, works like great short stories do, in the sense that we feel as if this movie can’t be contained by its own length. Its characters have backstories that are complicated but not resolved by the narrative, and we get the sense that they have a long way to go by the movie’s end.

I always chuckle at the promotional cliche “If you see only one movie this year…” because it seems to place undue pressure on the consumer. Why not see any movie that looks interesting to you? Why are you limiting yourself?

But I get it. Not everyone has the cinematic appetite I do. Some people might prefer thinking about seeing only one movie a year, then branching out from there. At a funeral recently, a distant relative asked me for film recommendations, then tempered it with “I normally see only movies nominated for Academy Awards.” A younger version of myself would have argued with her about how flawed that approach is, how films that are exceptional are, by definition, not going to be included in the nominations. I would have been condescending, and I would have used the word “middlebrow” at some point. But I get it now. Some people (like my brother) can’t remember the last time they went to the theater. Some people (like my wife) don’t seek movies out and are patient enough to wait for them to come to TV. Some people just want to be able to contribute to a conversation at a party and be done with it. That’s why a charade like the Academy Awards is still important. These people want to cross movies off their list. Of course, this doesn’t make them dumb—their process is much more logical than watching hundreds of terrible movies. No, this isn’t a list for dumb people (that would be a different list): It’s a list for people who still sort of care but have priorities different from mine.

So this list is for them, but it might be instructive for all of us. Subjective taste aside, there are really only ten movies in any given year that will be truly remembered by our society—for better or worse. Even for a great year such as 1995*, we only have enough room in the collective conscious for about ten movies. So here is a list of the movies that have penetrated the culture, that, in some ways, you will be expected to have seen, that you probably should have an opinion on. In order. I’ve tried to be honest about what you can skip, even if I was tempted to be clever and pick Attack the Block just to prepare you for the inevitable American big budget remake. You could argue that something like Harry Potter: The Deathly Hallows, Part II or Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol is so big that you should be aware of it, but, by now, you’ve already decided whether or not those franchises are essential. You don’t need my help.

And, look, it’s a handy list of ten. You can watch one or two a month!

10. Super 8 (JJ Abrams)- Abrams will continue to be a force in mainstream film and TV, so you should probably be able to reference one of his most significant works. Super 8 is also derivative of E.T. and Close Encounters of the Third Kind, so, even if you don’t see a lot of movies, you’ve probably seen those and can appreciate the movie on that level. It’s an easy film to watch, and, while not everyone will love it, no one will hate it.

9. The Tree of Life (Terrence Malick)- I’m kind of cheating already. If you don’t see a lot of movies, you won’t like this. Period. If you expect a traditional narrative, obvious external conflict, and a tidy resolution, you will not be satisfied. That being said, this is easily the most divisive film of the year, so it might come up in conversation. And now that it has the legitimacy of a Best Picture nominee, a lot more casual viewers will see it, and you can complain about it with them. Plus, I love it and would recommend it to people anyway.

8. The Artist (Michel Hazanavicius)- I’m pretty sure The Artist will win all of the important Oscars, so that makes it required viewing for the audience that would need this list. It’s cute, and it doesn’t require much of the viewer. Still, if you’re a casual filmgoer, I don’t suspect you would have seen a lot of the Old Hollywood and silent era films being referenced here, so that would impact your experience negatively.

7. Rise of the Planet of the Apes (Rupert Wyatt)- One of the biggest box office surprises of the summer, Rise of the Planet of the Apes will undoubtedly have a sequel that people will be talking about in two years. So if you watch this one, which is actually a pretty cool movie, you’ll be prepared.

6. The Descendants (Alexander Payne)- If you need this list, you’re probably a George Clooney fan, even if he burned you on that hitman movie with no talking. His latest is nominated for a bunch of Academy Awards, and, by the time the Oscars roll around, enough people will have seen this movie that it will be acknowledged as popular. It’s got some laughs. You’ll probably feel pretty good about yourself after watching it.

5. Drive (Nicolas Winding Refn)- Especially if you’re in your twenties, a lot of your friends will have strong opinions about this movie. It’s another love-it-or-hate-it entry, but I have a feeling it will stand the test of time and grow cultishly. Freshmen bros will have its poster on their dorm walls in two years. On one hand, it isn’t immediately satifying—there isn’t a lot of dialogue, and it’s ultra-violent. On the other hand, it’s so archetypal that I think someone could enjoy it as a pure genre piece, artistic trappings aside. At any rate, it’s a fun movie to talk about, and the director and star are positioning themselves as some of the most important of the next generation.

4. Moneyball (Bennett Miller)- Moneyball crossed the $75 million barrier at the box office, which seems to be the threshold for whether or not the average person has seen a movie. It has Brad Pitt doing Brad Pitt things in it. It’s being nominated for awards. And it’s just smart enough: It gives you something to chew on, but it doesn’t feel like homework.

3. Midnight in Paris (Woody Allen)-These nerds who watch movies all the time are always talking about Woody Allen. All you know is that he stammers and married his daughter or something. And those glasses. Well here’s one of his more accessible films, and almost anyone would like it. This is your in. It has stars you know, and it’s whimsical, good-natured, romantic, and witty.

2. Bridesmaids (Paul Feig)- This movie’s making a lot of people famous, and it was an unequivocal hit. No matter what anyone is saying right now, there will be a sequel. And if you don’t think it’s funny, you’re a grouch. It’s a no-brainer for this list.

1. The Help (Tate Taylor)- The Help is the perfect storm for an essentials list. It was one of the highest-grossing movies of the year, it’s a Best Picture nominee, and lots of people have lots of opinions on it. Since Emma Stone is going to be the most popular actress of the next decade, you should be familiar with her work as well. Plus, you’re getting a lot of plot for your money.

*- Just to prove my point, the 1995 list would look something like this: Braveheart, The Usual Suspects, Seven, Toy Story, Apollo 13, Heat, Bad Boys, Clueless, Friday, Showgirls. While I would also recommend Casino, Get Shorty, GoldenEye, and Tommy Boy, those are the only ones that, if you were to tell me you hadn’t seen them, I would be sort of shocked.

Since this is sort of fun, here’s the essentials list for 1999, which is the best cinematic year of my lifetime: The Sixth Sense, The Matrix, The Blair Witch Project, Fight Club, American Beauty, American Pie, Being John Malkovich, Varsity Blues, Magnolia, Office Space. If you haven’t seen Eyes Wide Shut or Election or Three Kings or Dogma or South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut, you’re a lesser person, sure. But I understand.

“The cameras roll, and ‘OJ’ kicks in. I know I technically shouldn’t, but I can’t help but be impressed by Jeezy’s ability to — in a room full of people, and early, on a weeknight — immediately begin to act like he’s starring in a rap video. Heather’s also clearly been to the rodeo before: Propped behind Jeezy, she starts rubbing his back, popping her butt, making angry-kissy faces at the camera. She’s being just a bit difficult, though. Between shots she complains that Jeezy is ‘locking’ her in — apparently, while she’s doing the rubbing from behind, he’s bringing his arms down, trapping her underneath his armpits. Jeezy’s advice for the situation: ‘That’s swag, baby. You gotta turn it up.’ A few shots later, Torres tells Heather to stop crouching. But she’s worried that, in her heels, she’ll be taller than Jeezy. ‘It’s all good,’ Jeezy barks out. ‘I’m standing on the money.’

(Apologies to Roger Ebert)

66. Another Earth (Mike Cahill)- For a lot of films on this list, I end up writing something like, “There are some memorable moments and directorial flourishes, but I wish Idea X had been explored deeper.” Another Earth is the opposite: a film invested deeply in an intriguing idea and pretty bankrupt everywhere else. Its conceit (What if there was an identical copy of this planet and everyone on it?) is the center of this piece, and there is no emotional or artistic wiggle-room outside of it. It was enough for me—just barely.

65. In a Better World (Susanne Bier)- While it’s skillfully made and legitimately heart-wrenching, In a Better World tries too hard with its metaphor of comparing schoolyard violence to political violence. I admired the honesty of the father-son relationship, but the film can’t quite deliver on its overall ambition.

64. Rango (Gore Verbinski)- Visually, this is overwhelming in its detail and scope—as awe-inspiring as any animated film ever made, with a wit to match. I would actually like to see it again because it’s so fast and layered that I know I missed some references. If it’s ostensibly a children’s Chinatown that also trades on Sergio Leone, Apocalypse Now, and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, aren’t I the ideal audience for that? So what does it say if it left even me cold?

63. Attack the Block (Joe Cornish)- The pacing and editing are dynamic, and the world-building of this dank, scary version of London seems perceptive. Beyond being a perfect fit for the film, the score (by Basement Jaxx’s Felix Burton and Simon Ratcliffe) is a great listen on its own. Still, the dialogue was too stylized for me, and I didn’t think all the young actors (especially John Boyega’s Moses) puled their own weight. 

62. 50/50 (Jonathan Levine)- Other than the lazy portrayals of its female characters, there isn’t a whole lot to dislike about this pretty funny cancer bro-down. Perhaps it never really rose above “pretty funny” for me.

61. Hugo (Martin Scorsese)- Is Scorsese Hugo, the isolated, obsessive note-taking child, or is Scorsese Melies, the elder statesman built for personal art who can no longer make personal art? Are our purpose and redemption important to anyone beyond ourselves? I enjoyed discussing this film way more than I enjoyed actually watching it. Even people who loved it will not mention anything that happens in its endless, dull first hour.

60. X-Men: First Class (Matthew Vaughn)- First Class doesn’t reach beyond the usual origin story hoops, but it jumps through those hoops with a dignified, eager elan. There are too many moving parts, but it was damned exciting all the way to the end.

59. The Devil’s Double (Lee Tamahori)- The Devil’s Double boasts one of the most accomplished, nuanced performances of the year. In a dual role as Uday Hussein and Latif Yahia, the lookalike hired to stand-in for Hussein in dangerous situations, Dominic Cooper seems as effortless as he is impressive. It’s a shame he’s not in a more captivating, consistent film. 

58. Rise of the Planet of the Apes (Rupert Wyatt)- Balancing a deft mixture of sincerity and camp, flaunting its game-changing motion capture technology, the plot of Rise of the Planet of the Apes is just compelling enough to get us to the only part anyone cares about: the breathtaking thirty-minute standoff that pushes it to another level.

57. Tabloid (Errol Morris)- If anyone else had directed this, it probably would have populated top ten lists around the country. For Morris, it feels non-committal and slight. While Joyce McKinney is what people like Joyce McKinney would call “a firecracker,” the film is hurt by the deafening absence of the Mormon missionary at the other side of the film’s controversy. His refusal to participate hurts the film, even if that’s not Morris’ fault.

56. Ceremony (Max Winkler)- It’s weird that first-time filmmakers are now old enough to count Wes Anderson as a legitimate, obvious influence. Ceremony is so indebted to him that it fails to have an identity of its own, but it’s wry and heartbroken in some unexpected ways. 

55. Cedar Rapids (Miguel Arteta)- There is a lot going on underneath the surface, and there’s an interesting moral world built and then questioned within all of the capricious farce. The cast is uniformly hilarious. Unfortunately, it felt as if the filmmakers were laughing at the protagonist more than they were laughing with him.

54. Drive (Nicolas Winding Refn)- This year’s argument that style is better than substance. Unfortunately, I think the film is a victim of its own ominous, thrilling introduction. When nothing else matched the intensity of the opening chase, I felt let down. I originally claimed that the movie was too cool, but then I figured out that it’s only good when it’s pre-occupied with being cool.

53. Melancholia (Lars Von Trier)- Von Trier’s latest—one of three hundred movies involving the apocalypse this year—is guided by a metaphor that equates personal depression with the end of the world. More strikingly, it suggests that the “normal” people frustrated by the depressed are, in some ways, just as dysfunctional. There’s a lot going on here thematically, but what really confuses the proceedings is the lack of specificity in any character other than Kirsten Dunst’s Justine. So many of the supporting characters are just types who do things because they’re convenient to the conflict, not because they resemble real human beings in any way.

52. Super 8 (JJ Abrams)- Like most other people, I preferred the kid stuff to the monster stuff. Abrams is so good at telling you everything you have to know about a character within five minutes; the characterization of and the interaction among the young boys is stunning. Elle Fanning, for that matter, would be up for a Best Supporting Actress Oscar if people weren’t so narrow-minded about what types of performances deserve that. Of course, once we get to the genre elements of the story, everything gets hokey. I’d love to see a scaled-down JJ Abrams drama, but I’m not sure we’ll ever get one.

51. The Myth of the American Sleepover (David Robert Mitchell)- The greatest strength of Mitchell’s feature debut is that it does not treat children like children. The teenagers making up this ensemble think and talk with sensitivity and intelligence. However, it’s completely unclear what time period the film takes place in, which—even if it was intentional—is way more distracting than I ever would have anticipated.

50. Pearl Jam 20 (Cameron Crowe)- At times, Crowe’s hagiography of Pearl Jam is embarrassing, but the priceless footage compiled serves as a fascinating document of what it means to occupy the strange space of a contemporary classic.

49. Win Win (Tom McCarthy)- McCarthy is a studied, astute screenwriter, but sometimes he’s too good. His structures, secondary characters, and callbacks are so immaculate that they make the viewer long for messiness. Even when the film is working, we can see everything coming ahead of time.

48. Moneyball (Bennett Miller)- There are three or four absolutely perfect standalone scenes in Moneyball, and there’s a lot of fat surrounding them. While screenwriters Steve Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin deserve credit for adapting a supposedly unfilmable book, there’s a reason it was deemed unfilmable to begin with. The stat stuff is too watered-down to satisfy stat people, and the baseball stuff is too watered-down to satisfy baseball people. As much as the film wants to transcend the trappings of a baseball movie, it ends up having to conform to them at the most crucial points of the story. That being said, the film’s sense of humor is engaging, and, with an underhanded grace I haven’t seen from him before, Brad Pitt elevated a role that probably doesn’t amount to much on the page.

47. Red State (Kevin Smith)- The greatest weakness and the greatest strength of Red State is that it is many films at once. It starts out as satire, then it morphs into horror, then it becomes a political allegory and shoot-out thriller. The film’s ability to fold into these new states is what energizes it, but Smith handles some of those states with much more facility than others. Although the writing feels more earnest than anything else that he’s done, Smith treats the ending in particular like a cop-out. It would have been interesting to have a dialogue about this film without knowing who the director was, because I don’t think I can evaluate it fairly without judging it within the context of Smith’s other work. 

46. Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop (Rodman Flender)- Any positive reviews this film received centered on its willingness to make Conan O’Brien seem like a demanding egoist. It does that unflinchingly, which is interesting, but it should also be praised for its portrayal of life on the road. It feels as if the film never shifts into top gear, but it’s solid in cruise control. 

45. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (David Fincher)- I’ll always find something to appreciate in Fincher’s technical mastery, (Did anyone else’s jaw drop at that shot that winds up a staircase at a full sprint?) but I didn’t connect to anything here—intellectually or emotionally. In more ways than one, this is a cold picture, and, whether this is fair or not, it doesn’t really justify its own existence. 

44. Beats, Rhymes, and Life: The Travels of A Tribe Called Quest (Michael Rapaport)- I didn’t expect to have a Michael Rapaport movie ranked ahead of a David Fincher one, but Rapaport’s devotion to his subject shines through in such a pure way. He lets us into a world that is contentious and weary, but he is able to equitably capture the loving side of everyone involved. He made a movie for fans, and he comes off as the biggest fan of all.

43. Warrior (Gavin O’Connor)- I don’t think I disagree with the viewers who championed this film; it is inspiring and resolute and true. But it’s also a long two-and-a-half hours, and it seems more bent on being a genre archetype than a genre reinvention. Oh word, fam, you’ve got a double-underdog story? Wait, till you see my quadruple-underdog story.

42. Jane Eyre (Cary Fukunaga)- In an encouraging follow-up to his first film, Fukunaga toes the line between elegant and austere while invigorating this classic story with time-hopping and just enough sexuality. Mia Wasikowska and Michael Fassbender are restrained but intense. If anything, I wish the film had excised even more of the silly gothic elements.

41. Source Code (Duncan Jones)- Not to get all Armond White on you, but I’ve never seen a film as indebted to video game logic as this one. While it progresses in eight-minute sections that are continually reset, it still has an engine that is faithful to classic Hollywood structure. I know some of it is goofy—and I need to watch it again to see if it really holds up—but this is some thrilling Friday night stuff here.

40. Cold Weather (Aaron Katz)- What starts as a hipster talk-fest delightfully turns itself on its head halfway through and becomes a hipster detective story, and the dialogue is so naturalistic that it seems improvised. However, this is another film that is almost ruined by its disingenuous shrug of an ending.

39. War Horse (Steven Spielberg)-This is at least as much director of photography Janusz Kaminski’s film as it is Spielberg’s. As baldly manipulative as it is, the able cast of character actors and Kaminski’s artistry (Shooting the girl entering the barn through the reflection in the horse’s eye? Who does that?) transform War Horse into something more than a smart film for dumb people. Likewise, the structure—following the horse from one international owner to the next against the backdrop of World War I—is more inventive than it has to be. That being said, don’t go if you have a problem with people clawing at your heartstrings.

I went 35/44. I didn’t expect there to be nine Best Picture nominees, so that’s three wrong right there. I don’t know who’s watching stuff like Albert Nobbs. On the other hand, pretty much every prestige film that positioned itself as a Best Picture was perceived that way.

I don’t get upset by the Academy Awards anymore. I just get confused. 

95. J. Edgar (Clint Eastwood)- For a film depicting such a divisive figure, I found Eastwood’s rushed, time-hopping vision non-committal. If you’re not going to have a definitive opinion on Hoover’s sexuality and contradictions, I don’t see the point in making a movie about him, even if there are some interesting moments. An Eastwood hate-piece is brewing somewhere deep inside of me.

94. The Lincoln Lawyer (Brad Furman)- I liked that Matthew McConaughey tried an actual character on for size, but the never-ending third act seemed convoluted, and the whole film has a crass air, despite some intriguing supporting performances.

93. The Future (Miranda July)- If you’re wondering where the line between cute and too-cute-for-its-own-good is, it’s having part of your film narrated by a kitten. The miserable characters—who don’t even seem to have any kind of goal—deserve each other. I do think July has potential as a director, so that makes it even worse.  

92. Take Me Home Tonight (Michael Dowse)- This long-gestating Topher Grace project tries so desperately to make a lofty statement about the ’80s that it ends up feeling silly and, in a weird way for such a broad comedy, pretentious. It has a great cast that is hampered by a script that goes through the motions.

91. 30 Minutes or Less (Ruben Fleischer)- Oh word, fam? You’ve got Danny McBride playing a foul-mouthed dumb guy who thinks he’s smarter than he actually is? That’s novel. It would be impossible for me to not laugh at Aziz Ansari, but I wasn’t invested in the plot after the first half-hour.

90. Fast Five (Justin Lin)- I’m not going to fall into the trap of taking Fast Five too seriously when it’s obvious that no one involved did. While I have a lot of questions about the moral implications, (How many innocent people were endangered by the prologue?) this is, at times, joyfully ridiculous. There are still too many characters to keep straight, although I am excited that this is the most racially-diverse cast I’ve ever seen in a studio movie.

89. Thor (Kenneth Branagh)- As expensive as the film was, some sequences in Asgard looked cheap. I didn’t believe the romance at the center—the film gave me no reason to—and there were long stretches in which I wasn’t even sure what was actually at stake. That being said, I think Chris Hemsworth has real star power, and I liked Branagh’s use of color.

88. The Beaver (Jodie Foster)- It’s easy to see why this script was on the Black List a few years ago, what with its painstaking structure, but I found it a strange chore. It’s one of those movies that tries to be realistic in every superficial way, but it’s not even from this planet emotionally. 

87. Friends with Benefits (Will Gluck)- There are a handful of perfect scenes (most of which involve Richard Jenkins) that belong in a more consistent film. Despite the engaging leads, this is the same romantic comedy merry-go-round we’ve seen a million times.

86. happythankyoumoreplease (Josh Radnor)- I don’t think it would be possible for this film, with all of its “I’m a New York writer!” tropes, to take itself any more seriously. Everything is a statement. For example, the sister can’t just be a regular person; she has to have alopecia so that she can have some kind of problem to labor through. I was kind of interested in the subplot though—more than the main plot even.

85. Our Idiot Brother (Jesse Peretz)- What’s the point of having Paul Rudd in your movie if you’re not going to let him do Paul Rudd things? I don’t like this Paul Rudd playing a character bullshit. Just let him be charming and rakish. I understand what this movie is going for—it’s like a clumsy, broad version of Being There—but I didn’t understand why everyone was playing against type. Why not just let these talented people do what they do?

84. A Dangerous Method (David Cronenberg)- While I expected to see a battle of wills between Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud, Cronenberg’s parlor drama ended up being a battle of snippy letters between the two. There are some interesting ideas being danced around, but the film never actually makes it anywhere satisfying—it actually could have been about ten minutes longer. And Keira Knightley…I don’t know if she’s doing a lot of good work here, but she’s doing a lot of work. It’s a big performance.

83. The Help (Tate Taylor)- I wrote about this film a few months ago, and my views haven’t really changed. As overstuffed melodrama, it succeeds, but I’ve never been one for overstuffed melodrama.

82. Limitless (Neil Burger)- The ending is a ham-fisted compromise, and there are plot-holes big enough to drive through, but Limitless is fast and stylish. I had a lot of fun watching it, especially in the first half.

81. The Guard (John Michael McDonagh)- There’s a scene in this film in which the Brendan Gleeson character is about to kill another character, and he jokes about it in front of the guy—something to the effect of “Do you want me to feel bad for you?” And, you know what, I kind of did. I kind of wanted to feel emotionally involved in the proceedings, and this film’s brand of dark comedy is way too cool to ever let me do that. 

80. Carnage (Roman Polanski)- The performances and staging of Carnage feel, paradoxically, both too big and slight. And the more I thought about it, I realized that notion is what we call “theatricality”. I understand why this would work on a stage, but it really doesn’t work on film. 

79. Arthur (Jason Winer)- I think this movie hit all the marks it was aiming for—in fact, it’s better than the original—but it still doesn’t amount to much beyond the standard studio comedy.

78. Incendies (Denis Villeneuve)- I don’t remember anything about this movie beyond the scene of a busful of children being lit on fire. Good times.

77. Paul (Greg Mottola)- The conflict seemed contrived, and I quickly tired of the religion-bashing, but I did like how steeped in the tradition of alien movies this was. It wears all of its influences on its sleeve.

76. The Roommate (Sonny Mallhi)- This movie is kind of terrible, but, to be honest, it’s also pretty awesome if you’re as much of a fan of the genre as I am. It’s the most prototypical Single White Female creepy thriller we’ve gotten in a while. The love story actually kind of works, but you’re only getting as far as Leighton Meester and Minka Kelly are taking you.

75. Young Adult (Jason Reitman)- This film was in need of a more cynical edge, which is the exact opposite of what Reitman typically brings to the table. What’s intriguing about it is that the main character chooses delusion in the end, and the film seems fine with it. It kind of reminded me of Don Juan de Marco, which is notable not for being one of the last Brando performances, but for being a movie that unequivocally sides with the crazy person. 99% of the time, the psychiatrist has to change the crazy guy and show him how great life can be when you’re not lying to yourself. In that movie, they just sort of decide: “He’s not hurting anyone. Let him think he’s Don Juan. Roll credits.” Anyway, yeah, Young Adult isn’t very funny, and I didn’t care about any of the characters, despite some good acting from the principals.

74. Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (Tomas Alfredson)- This ended up feeling like a trailer for a great book. Some of it seemed exciting and promising, although I had no grasp of the context. It was cinematography and design porn of the highest order, but I don’t think it’s possible to understand it without having read the book.

73. Captain America: The Last Avenger (Joe Johnston)- Any of the wide-eyed innocence the movie achieves is undone by its Avengers commercial of an ending. I do like Chris Evans a lot, and his optimism is a welcome change from something like Iron Man or Thor.

72. Horrible Bosses (Seth Gordon)- In a summer without much comedy, Horrible Bosses was a welcome diversion, but I didn’t buy that a decision as monumental as murder was made in such a cavalier way by the protagonists. And it was sort of racist. Colin Farrell steals what is worth stealing.

71. The Adventures of Tintin (Steven Spielberg)- I enjoyed seeing a virtual camera hand Speilberg a new bag of tricks: You could tell that he had some of those moves in his head for a long time. Still, the characters seem a bit—pun intended—cartoonish for a 2011 animated film. Characters as blank as Tintin and as one-note as Captain Haddock might have worked in a comic book ninety years ago, but they don’t work now. The one-shot chase sequence is as amazing as advertised though.

70. The Arbor (Clio Barnard)- This is the quasi-documentary about British playwright Andrea Dunbar that takes interviews from real people, and then stages scenes with actors lip-syncing those lines. It’s an interesting gimmick that distances us from the harsh realities being discussed. But its dysfunctional families and drug-addicted pregnant women are so hopeless that it’s still tough to get through.

69. How to Die in Oregon (Peter D. Richardson)- I don’t support assisted suicide, and I’ll admit that my own opinion colors how much I can appreciate a documentary that ends up siding with it resolutely. Because of my own stance, I found the subjects cowardly, and I thought the film was one-sided. That happens to everyone who watches a political documentary, but no one wants to admit it. Twice though, you get to see real people actually dying, and I can’t deny the transformative nature of watching that. It’s not something you can easily shake.  

68. The Artist (Michel Hazanavicius)- By now, this Best Picture front-runner is a victim of its own expectations. It’s cute but slight, a brilliant genre exercise but not much more. It’s difficult to be an homage to films that are so much better than your own. Especially since its plot is basically the same as Singin’ in the Rain, I don’t see why it even exists. I’m glad other people seem to enjoy it so much. Cute dog too.

67. The Adjustment Bureau (George Nolfi)- The plot is completely ridiculous, to the point that you feel silly describing it to someone, but the chemistry between Matt Damon and Emily Blunt is so warm and palpable that you can’t help but root for them to be together.   

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“‘Parenthood’s’ silence about its black characters’ blackness reflects our genuine desire for things to be different, but also our willingness to ignore the reality of the experiences of people of color in an eagerness to move ahead to post-racialism. This underlines two things: Things have changed, in that there’s a collective desire for equality. But the main problem remains: It is still a white playing field, with white main characters who want to enjoy a world without racism. They’re the ones who have decided to move on.

In a clumsy effort to avoid racist portrayals, many TV shows and films have decided to make all black characters superhumanly virtuous or placed them in positions of authority…This virtue, they think, will distract us from the fact that all the main characters, the ones allowed to be truly human with successes and faults and a range of emotion, are still white. TV is still a white world, one where racism exists, but in small amounts that allow us all to sleep easily.”