A lot has been said about the fact that in 2012—more than any other year before it—the number of submissions for the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar defied expectations. A total of 71 films were submitted by countries ranging from Albania to Venezuela. Countries like Kenya entered their movies into the competition for the first time. But before nominations were even announced the race had come down to two movies: Amour and The Intouchables.

One is the Palme d’Or winning-crowning jewel in the career of one of the most respected auteurs in the world, the other is France’s biggest moneymaker of all time. One is a harsh look at old age, often cruel, never dishonest; the other, is a buddy movie that appropriates Hollywood values like white guilt filtered by a lovable “magical Negro” and “based on a true story” conventions. One was directed by the man who first broke into the scene by making a movie about a soulless boy who murders a girl, the other is a feel good hit backed by The Weinstein Company.

I know, I know. Ranting about, reflecting on, and rationalizing this year’s Oscar nomination snubs is so last week. But as I ponder the selections in the acting categories, it occurs to me that this year, perhaps more so than any in the recent past, the Academy’s choices all seem particularly slanted toward the straightforward: fine actors delivering dialogue well, if not especially inhabiting or transforming the material. In a year filled with top Hollywood talent—and a few critical darlings—delivering full-bodied, immersive performances in rather unorthodox roles, it’s hard to not be disappointed that the Academy didn’t take more risks in compiling their shortlists.

Leading Annapurna Pictures, we have a young woman with every financial resource who never has to work a day in her life. Instead, she wrote a check for $35 million so the world would have The Master, a masterpiece which could only earn a profit in some alternate universe. She funded Zero Dark Thirty, the most deliberately provocative film of our time. With the inclusion of just these two films, the quality of the American movie market improved tenfold over previous years, thanks to a wealthy motorcyclist who tweets Jean Cocteau quotes. That’s right, kids. There’s someone out there with intelligent taste and a lot of money who wants to get your movies made. Cynics be damned: No one could look at the blatant facts of The Master - massive budget, no commercial prospects, complete creative control of a great director - and not see that this is a producer who means business (and none of what that implies.)

What do Michael Haneke and Jean Renoir have in common (besides their deeply humanistic, but vastly different approaches to portraying life you mean?)? They both have directed foreign language films that went on to receive a Best Picture Academy Award nomination. In 1938, Renoir’s La Grande Illusion was nominated for the big Hollywood prize, becoming the first movie not in the English language to receive this honor. The WWI-set masterpiece lost to a now mostly forgotten Frank Capra comedy and curiously wasn’t nominated for anything other than Best Picture, meanwhile in 2012, Haneke’s Amour, a devastating take on old age, went on to receive a total of five nominations including one for lead actress Emmanuelle Riva.

I think I find myself in the minority of all issues Ben Affleck. First, I was a fan of the actor. Yes, from Good Will Hunting on I enjoyed Affleck the Actor in such films as Armageddon, Dogma, The Sum of All Fears, and even the much maligned Jersey Girl.

I joined the consensus for a few years when he broke through as a director. Gone Baby Gone, his first effort, is based on my favorite novel and is now one of my favorite films. The Town is incredibly entertaining and is oft-quoted around my home (“I’m putting this whole town in my reahview.”).