Close the Book on 2012

All in all, this was a pretty darn good year for film. Or maybe I should say, a pretty darn good last three months since so much of the good stuff got jammed in at the end of the year, just in time for awards season.

It seemed like the studio screeners came later than usual this year and, since a birthday significant enough to celebrate fell right smack dab in the middle of the mad scramble of advance screenings, it seemed impossible that I would be able to see everything worth considering. I know I didn't in time for the San Diego Film Critics Society vote, but I participated as best I could and am generally happy with the winners.

I had more time to cram before the deadline for my own end of the year list, and since I cheated by working in an "also try" section of a dozen smaller, lesser-known films worth seeking out, I feel like I've 2012 some justice.

Between the deadline for my year-end summary and today, I've had time to pop in a few more DVDs that never quite made it to the top of the pile, but deserve a shout-out, so here goes:

"ParaNorman" and "Wreck-it Ralph" - I admit it. I tend to avoid the kid stuff since I don't have kids and feel completely out of my element trying to assess what is kid-friendly. And then I watch a great animated film like "ParaNorman" and, to a lesser extent, "Wreck-it Ralph," and remember that only the bad ones are strictly for kids. After our critics group picked "ParaNorman" as best animated film of the year (I abstained from that vote), I gave it a shot and was simply delighted at what I experienced. It's the first animated film in a long while that I've wanted to immediately watch again. I'd watch "Ralph" again too, if just to catch the hundreds of visual gags and references I'm sure I missed the first time, but I'd turn down the volume -- it gets about as irritatingly clamorous as an 80's arcade.

"Ai Wei Wei: Never Sorry" - This was the one documentary I just wasn't able to get to and I really wish I had. Watching this artist/activist take on the Chinese government and model the role of the rebellious artist for his countrymen and women was truly inspiring, and even frightening. (The film is also an unintended Twitter infomercial). I definitely found another hero to admire.

"Room 237" - I always believed I was traumatized when a babysitter allowed me to watch "The Shining," but insisted I run right to bed when my mom came home. After watching "Room 237," I know I was. I was just a little older than Danny, the little kid with the extrasensory gift, and I still recall the cold shiver of terror that ran through my body as I sprinted through the house and pretended to be asleep in my pitch black bedroom.

I hoped I could find someone to watch the documentary with me, but last night I finally gave in and watched it all alone in my apartment. I thought since it was about the crackpot theories that fans of the film have devised over the years  (actually, one of them I totally buy), and not the creepy film itself, I thought I could handle it. For much of the film, narrated by the perpetually off-camera theorists over corresponding footage from "The Shining" and other films, I could. It feels like a strange puzzle poem of imagery, with recognizable actors and scenes acting out the text. But once I clicked in to director Rodney Ascher's rhythm, the cold shiver returned.

Maybe it's the distinctive music, the possessed face of Jack Nicholson, those damn Arbus twins, or just the fact that Kubrick himself was such an enigma, but I just don't think I'll ever be able to treat "The Shining" as a text for critical study. I'll leave that to the crackpots.