There comes a time in the year when sparrows fly south, bears begin their hibernation and critics release their end of the year Top 10 lists. It is a mysterious phenomenon that has been occurring since the dawn of time according to the invisible laws of nature and of the physical world, phases of the moon and so forth. The Filmspotter, wise as he is, looks to nature for guidance in his life, and from it draws inspiration for his behaviour, reproducing many natural occurrences in ritualised fashion. So it is with top tens and lists and such.
And lo, the time of year dawns upon us, the solstice looms and endings beckon. The industry frets and shivers, releasing the last blockbusters of the year, counting the dollars, submitting, in anxious fervour, their candidates to the Academy. The Filmspotter watches and observes, in silence, unknown and anonymous. And he judges. Always, he judges.
Has the year ended yet? Not quite. Are we all caught up in our watching? Hell no. Is it going to stop us saying the things we like are better than the things we didn't watch? Has it ever?