It's hard for me to imagine the name "Peter Dinklage" belonging to anybody but a midget (or is he a dwarf?). You never see "Dinklage" emblazoned on an NBA jersey, do you? I rest my case.

Who knew Duane "Dog" Chapman had such finely tuned acting chops?

Theo Angelopoulos' godly masterpiece about children learning to grieve. This is one of those films that, once seen, becomes seared into your brain and consumes you to the point where it's all you can think about in the proceeding days. If, by the film's conclusion, you're not bawling your eyes out you really have no business calling yourself a human being.

The Science of Sleep makes a good case for Michel Gondry being his generation's Jacques Tati. And like Tati, he probably won't unleash his best work until late in his career. Let's just call this his Mon Oncle. I can't wait for him to make his Playtime.

Michel Gondry's loving paean to the DIY YouTube generation. This one is a bit of a step backwards from his fantastic The Science of Sleep, but it's done with warmth and a lot of exuberance. It's more of a showcase for Jack Black, really, than a proper movie. Gondry has yet to realize his full potential as a director of feature-length films, but give him time. Give him time.

The master of the awkward moment. The Land of the Fermenting Cabbage has yet to produce a finer filmmaker than Hong Sang-soo. (I haven't seen this yet, which is why there's no review.)