The London Evening Standard Awards, a particularly bijou set of critics’ honors reserved for British titles and talent, tend to swerve a little left of the expected — chosen as they are by a jury of six disparate, but equally opinionated, critics. So it is this year: obviously “The King’s Speech” and “Another Year” feature heavily, but the list is peppered with pleasing examples of independent thinking.
Indeed, this jury has given a sharp reprimand to the recent BIFA Awards by including Peter Mullan’s lavishly praised indie “Neds” in their Best Film lineup, a highly diverse selection that also includes Sylvain Chomet’s animated wonder “The Illusionist” (yay), Matthew Vaughan’s divisive comic adaptation “Kick-Ass” (boo) and Clio Barnard’s performance-documentary hybrid “The Arbor.”
Frozen out in the Oscar race, “Never Let Me Go” nonetheless had a good day here with a leading five nods, thanks largely to the jury’s regard for all three of its leads.
The New York Times has an annual tradition of getting its three top critics — Manohla Dargis, A.O. Scott and Stephen Holden — to craft ideal Oscar ballots, and
Steve Pond is
The week, and with it, the bulk of my 2010 coverage, draws to a close today with a look at the best of the best. I’m offering up a personal list of superlatives, including most Oscar categories and some other fun fields thrown in for good measure. A tradition at this point.

A great score can take a film from memorable to unforgettable. Whether it be Vangelis’s synthesizer on the beach in 
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“It’s quality work. There are simply too many notes,” says the Emperor Joseph II to an incredulous Mozart in Milos Forman’s 1984 Oscar-guzzler
Today we take a look a second look at, well, certainly the most “cinematic” of categories: Best Cinematography. As I like to say, cinema is born out of the camera and those who wield these devices enrich our films more than a few words written here could possibly say. From capturing mood, lighting and atmosphere to telling the story visually and creatively, our cinematographers truly are artists in every sense of the word.
In a year that has seen me give over more of my time than is strictly sensible to covering the Cannes, Venice, Berlin and Edinburgh programmes, there’s something oddly disconcerting about attending a festival in my home city.
(A day later than usual — apologies.)
A number of people wanted Anne and I to discuss the seemingly thin
On the heels of last week’s introductory 

As Kris mentioned earlier, reaction out of Toronto to Rowan Joffe’s