Three films have left me with the same wonderful life-as-cinema, Binx Bolling search feeling, over the past year.
Those three are, chronologically: Midnight in Paris, Hugo, and The Artist. Runner-up: Moneyball.
I can name several entire Oscar years during which those four would all be more legitimate winners than any of the nominees of said year (see: the year Crash won).
Still must see: Melancholia, Drive, assorted others.
(And as I type, on my TV behind me during a Daily Show commercial break, there’s a preview for the re-release of the The Phantom Menace. And yeah. George Lucas still makes movies. Sigh.)