N.Y. Times columnist David Carr gave me hope this morning that the lazy-default voters might not go for the slow, talky, rotely portentous aspects of Steven Spielberg‘s Lincoln, and that something else might take the Best Picture Oscar. I really love that there is no one dominant favorite this year. Whatever wins, much howling and gnashing of teeth are assured when the Big Moment comes.

Why did Feinberg ignore the SLP hate brigade when he tapped this out? One presumes that Glenn Kenny and others in his camp would like an answer.

The absolute best film of 2012 is Zero Dark Thirty, I feel, but my emotional favorite is Silver Linings Playbook (which is in no small measure beautifully written, acted, timed and sculpted). The bravest, ballsiest contender of the year is Anna Karenina. Lincoln is dutiful and dreary and a paper tiger. Argo is well-crafted and widely admired but it lacks a thematic undertow. Les Miserables has an extremely passionate fan base, but it has also worn a lot of people down. Life of Pi has attracted huzzahs and respect, but not that much elation. The Master will live on, but it’s a film for critics and cineastes (i.e., guys like myself) and it has a vague, inconclusive and (be honest) somewhat frustrating finish.