Looking back over the year, there was a great deal to enjoy at the cinemas, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to sum up the films that have lured me to the stain seated multiplexes and why I loved them, or not.

The beginning of the year had the dramas – Gran Turino, Benjamin Button and The Wrestler all provided plenty of tears from girlfriends around the country, and I’m sure a damned lump in the throat of even the manliest man. Gran Turino came from nowhere with what could be the last classic Eastwood performance, and a story that reflected the changing world of an old man. Benjamin Button was a life-time spanning epic told using the traditional Shawshank-esque voice over, and a great supporting cast. And possibly the best of all The Wrestler saw slimey Hollywood playboy Micky Rourke play a role that for somebody whose favourite film is Rocky just ticked all the right boxes.

Animated films have really excelled this year, within a short period of time I caught ‘9′, ‘Up‘ and ‘Fantastic Mr Fox‘ that proved the timeless quality of animation and the sheer scope for versatility it provides. 9 had a quite enthralling steam-punk world and some imaginative, albeit shallow, sack people. ‘Up‘ was about my favourite film of the year, utterly charming, heart rendering and best of all laugh out loud funny. It has you close to tears within the first 15 minutes and close to pissing your pants within 30, and is surely the best work Pixar have done yet. Fantastic Mr Fox took a traditional story and shot it in what looked to be an entirely traditional manner, although I’m sure modern technology again played a part. It was eccentric and unique, so had Wes Anderson written all over it. Earlier in the year Coraline saw Henry Selleck create the kind of stop motion creepy world only he can (and that is usually attributed, wrongly, to Tim Burton).

British films have trodden a familiar path, either that of realistic grit, like the piss-stained concrete of the utterly depraved, if a bit silly in its nihilistic social commentary, Harry Brown. Or that of the feel good comedies in the vein of football-influenced The Damned United and Looking for Eric. Both painted a picture of the average British man and how football, a game scoffed at by many as pointless and moronic, can be used as a redemptive tool. It was certainly a good year for Michael Caine who gave inch-perfect performances in both the aforementioned Harry Brown, and the slightly less harrowing Is Anybody There? Where instead of losing his temper and going on a vigilante mission he gradually lost his mind in a poignant and downright upsetting manor. Either way they were performances of such detail and subtlety he has surely reached his peek as an actor.

Of course it can’t all be good, and the Hollywood action films have been mostly real stinkers, which is a shame as I enjoy a good violence soaked effects fest as much as anybody, just as long as it has a bit of excitement and character. Unlike the over long borefest Transformers 2, the only film to make giant robots and explosions seem less exciting than Norris losing a shoe on Coronation Street. Then there was the 90′s inspired 12 Rounds so totally derivative I’m surprised even Seagal himself would question releasing in as part of his “straight-to-dvd of the month” collection. But he probably would, if only to show John Cena that having so many muscles you can’t pronounce basic words is probably not a good way to break into an acting career, better stick to waving your hand in the way next time. Surrogates gave Bruce Willis an unforgettable hair piece but was really sci-fi by numbers with a couple of good chase sequences. The likes of 2012, Xmen Origins, GI Joe, and Angels and Demons I couldn’t even muster the enthusiasm to sit there comfortably for a couple of hours to watch them. There was some reprise from the much-maligned Terminator Salvation, that while lacking in actual Terminators was still a tense, exciting affair. And, in the same much despised vain, Watchmen, which was possibly too weird and philosophical for audiences expecting spandexed superheroes taking down a big name actor gone BAD (say Zack Efron sporting a bald cap who wants to take over the world using nothing but interpretive dance). It succeeded in bringing famously complex characters and ideas to the screen in a distinctive and bloody way. And, of course, for a complete Trekkie noob the Star Trek reboot was a riot, I also have a soft spot for The Taking of Pelham. However, none could make up for the crushing disappointment of Public Enemies, which wasted such a great cast and performances on a shallow, distant and uninvolving film, another dud for Michael Mann. Plus the digital HD it was shot in looked dog ugly.

The indie films went from the usual quirky hipster romantic comedies to the altogether more interesting zombie apocalypses with a sub-plot of hipster romantic comedy. Yes, Zombieland was immense fun and made Woody Harrellson credible again, plus it had cameo of the year. In the more traditional ones (500) Days of Summer was full of ideas but a little too painfully hip for its own good, elsewhere the slightly less hip Away We Go told a more down-to-earth story but was too forgettable and formulaic to really make a mark.

Then, of course, the Christmas period started, where The Christmas Carol made another appearance with a fairly average re-telling of the familiar tale, only shot in lush 3D. The Coen’s waded in with the strange A Serious Man, in what was the most Jewish people I’d ever seen in one place. Sadly, I missed most of the Jewish in-jokes. Then came the sombre mood-piece Where The Wild Things Are , easily the most beautifully shot film of the year, it just washes over you like a warm blanket slowly comforting you to sleep to a quite wonderful soundtrack. But will probably serve only to frustrate younger viewers or anybody who needs a solid plot and direction to enjoy a movie.

And that’s about all I can remember, bar a shout out to District 9 and Inglorious Basterds, both containing unknown actors giving performances of a lifetime, District’s Sharlto Copley went from bureaucratic cretin to an alien-armed renegade in a barrage of blood, sweat and amusing South African accents and Basterd’s Christopher Waltz as the soft-spoken Jew hunter was charming and intimidating in equal measure.

Oh and where is Avatar? I’m seeing it tomorrow.