Well, here we go. The Christmas season starts today, as studios roll out their naked awards bait and world-beater blockbuster wannabes. Have I written this sentence before? It feels like I have. Ah, well. At least the movies are different … sort of.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey: I’m more conflicted about Peter Jackson’s return to Middle-Earth than perhaps anything else I’ve seen this year, to the point where I’m fully aware of its colossal, crippling flaws (and butt-numbing length) but still think it’s worth your time. The highs are just really, really high. Aren’t they?

Hyde Park on Hudson: Remember when Roger Michell was a promising British filmmaker? Persuasion, Enduring Love, Changing Lanes? Yeah, that’s all in the rear-view now. These days he’s content to crank out crap like this pandering replication of The King’s Speech. Seriously, what idiot reunites Rushmore‘s Bill Murray and Olivia Williams, casts them as the Roosevelts and gives them absolutely nothing of substance to do?

Meet the Fokkens: Okay, the title’s as opportunistic as the entirety of Hyde Park on Hudson. But Susan is able to get past that and enjoy this unusual documentary about elderly Amsterdam sex-worker twins for what it is. I think.

And that’s everything, since all the studios are staying out of The Hobbit‘s way. But it’ll get a lot busier next week — like, a lot busier.