Not since [REC] and its equally masterful sequel have we seen something like this. For most, the first person POV found footage film is a hit or miss proposition with more whiffs than winners in the mix. Starting with The Blair Witch Project (though there were other, less notorious examples before), fans have had to put up with lame devil worship (The Last Exorcism), equally bad living dead dynamics (The Zombie Diaries) and a host of hobbled concepts (insert name of least favorite example here). Rarely does it ever work, and when it does, it’s usually not something you want to see again. Still, filmmakers feel that, unlike a gimmick like 3D, found footage has no real cinematic shelf life. As long as it’s done correctly, it can still be a benefit to both the storytelling and its impact.

Enter Chronicle, the latest entry in the slight subgenre. Directed with unbelievable skill by Josh Trank and written by John Landis’ son Max, it’s the kind of movie where the power of “why?” can find no purchase. What exactly does this mean? Well, Chronicle tells the tale of three boys who discover an alien artifact deep underground. After coming in contact with it, they all gain superpowers. Initially, they use these abilities for fun. But eventually, one of them goes rogue (for very good reasons), leading to an inevitable showdown. The whole “why?” element is removed by some very smart decisions behind the scenes. Indeed, whenever the situations create a question as to ‘why’ something might be happening/is possible, Trank and Landis anticipate it - and answer it.

All one can say is - whoa. Whoa! WHOA! In a year where almost anything goes, where a silent film seems destined to use its glorified gimmick status to earn unwarranted (sorry, The Artist is NOT the Best Film of 2011) Oscar gold, there were several solid surprises coming out of this year’s Academy Award nominations - and almost none of them were for what was included. Sure, we can celebrate the one or two oddities offered (Demian Bichir for… A Better Life? Really?) but the biggest news coming from the 24 January announcement are those who were not included, including many heavy hitters. Indeed, this looks to be the cinematic season of the unconscionable snub.

Granted, the annual Hollywood hype machine has often left out films and filmmakers who deserved mention, created myths and legends (Cary Grant, Alfred Hitchcock) along the way. But when individuals win major awards, when they are acknowledged by critic’s groups and considered bodies of their peers, it’s odd to see the Academy complete ignore them. Case in point - The Adventures of Tintin. Yes, yes…we know it’s motion capture, something that seems to drive the voting members of AMPAS bugnuts, but the truth remains that no other animated film this year had the sense of wild-eyed wonder and adventure that this Steven Spielberg helmed effort did. It even won the Golden Globe. But apparently, Oscar has other ideas (A Cat in Paris? Chico and Rita? KUNG…FU…PANDA…FRIGGIN’...2?!?!?!) as to what makes a great animated feature.

With it’s released on DVD and Blu-ray, Jalmari Helander’s brilliant Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale is poised to become the new cool Yule for anyone sick of the standard syrupy holiday fare. It’s one of the best reinvention of the season ever. PopMatters had a chance to ask the director a few questions about his film, and as with his masterful way behind the lens, he didn’t waste a moment. While short (and definitely sweet), his responses argue for a lover of novel, the nasty, and all things Noel.

Alfred Hitchcock has long been a fixture in the canon of film. Never repeating himself in his many films, Hitchcock instituted a direct correlation between himself and psychoanalysis (vice versa). His style is ubiquitous, images still reprocessed within culture universally and work still discussed. If you felt like you’ve seen the same imagery multiple times in different uses but aren’t too sure where it comes from it may well be from a Hitchcock film—this, too, speaks all the more of Hitchcock’s legacy. One of Hitchcock’s most infamous films, North by Northwest, is at once a Cold War operation and a romance (in both senses of the word). The images of North by Northwest are on scale with Psycho in the collective’s imagination from its plane scene to the film’s ending atop Mount Rushmore. While North by Northwest begins with a kidnapping, the film plays out an un-Oedipal narrative which cruxes both Roger Thornhill and Eve Kendall in its motives as hero and heroine strive toward their realized desires of union.

North by Northwest is a meditation on mistaken identity shoved upon Roger Thornhill. He is not George Kaplan, yet he becomes Kaplan in various ways because of a series of irrational incidences which would have anyone jumping ship. Within the narrative, Kaplan is no one—a ploy in covert operations amidst the Cold War. While Kaplan is no one in the film, when Thornhill takes on Kaplan’s guise, he becomes oedipal: Courting his mother around, trying on clothes that are too small for his tall physique and being entirely impotent in his life, etc. (The film might be onto something with its absence of tragic and irony filled Oedipus and how modernity objects/defies him—the main role of incest even when Oedipus Rex first appeared.) Yet, the suggestion goes further that though Oedipus’ incestuous, etc., actions are absent from the film, the film is a direct descendent from Oedipus Rex and points back to it with no shame even though it reaches an adverse conclusion.

What is it with audiences and critics? Why do they agree on so very little and mean even less to each other? Some will argue that the universal soapbox that is the Internet changed the face of forming opinions forever. Like the old joke about a certain human body part, everybody has judgments and most of them stink. So naturally, when you overwhelm the marketplace of ideas with a combination of idiocy and grammatically suspect speculation, the result is more watered down than a dive bar martini. Everything from the exploitation of thumbs to the alphabetizing of validation has also contributed to the decline in the viewer/journalist ideal. After all, when given a couple hundred words and a goofy icon-based rating system to struggle through, worth weakens and then dies.

But there are other factors to consider as well, reasons for great and growing divide between what critics think is good/bad and what the box office - the ultimate barometer of public appreciation - indicates. Case in point - Drive, the recent Ryan Gosling thriller that is sitting at nearly 92% positive on that bane aggregate, Rotten Tomatoes. Of the 158 names on the site’s supposed honor roll (yours truly included), over 145 found it to be somewhere between ‘good’ and ‘great’ in the pantheon of September 2011 releases. Some have even gone so far as to reserve a spot on their end of year Best of list for this interesting deconstructed noir. Yet with over 2880 theater screens to draw from and relatively lax collection of titles around it, the best Drive could muster was a mere $11 million opening.