Last year’s cinematic output was a dreadful display in my opinion. It almost became infamously so, what with a number of readers questioning my passion for film, my dedication to balanced coverage and my overall lack of excitement for the 2005 season.

I’m nothing if not candid (well – not as candid as Sumner Redstone apparently was today), and I’m always the first to address my attitude and such criticisms. While the assumption that my passion was gone was certainly off-target (Why would I continue to write about such things otherwise?), the widespread interpretation of my sluggish reaction was pretty much on the money.

The simple fact was, last year it wasn’t connecting for me. It was all a drab affair and my feelings on the season played themselves out in a top ten list that was speckled with such down-tuned and brooding efforts as Gus Van Sant’s “Last Days,” Christopher Nolan’s “Batman Begins,” David Cronenberg’s “A History of Violence” (though I certainly wasn’t alone on that one) and Gore Verbinski’s “The Weather Man.” The feeling was as equally shared as it wasn’t, but that’s how my 2005 cookie crumbled. And I guess real-life stuff can play into such things as well.

This year, however, I am bursting with exhilaration, not only at what is on the periphery, but also at what I’ve already seen. This is the most difficult time, that pre-Toronto phase where you’re sitting on reviews of films for weeks upon weeks. Last year, all was well. Nothing much mattered to me in that regard. But this year – this year I’m just giddy, and that’s the best adjective I could possibly use. I’m giddy and rejuvenated by the films in play, both reviewed and kept under my hat, and there really is no point to this column other than to convey just that.

Sometimes you feel like it’s all sluggish and “work.” Other times, you feel like the luckiest person in the world because people are making fantastic and unique films. This year, I feel like the luckiest person in the world, and I hope my fellow journalists and filmgoers feel the same way. However, if they don’t, “one man’s floor is another man’s ceiling.” Right?

(And no, the title of this blurb does not indicate anything. It just felt like the right extra touch.)