* If you happened to be lucky enough to see Lisandro Alonso's Los Muertos (2004), then his newest solitary trek, Liverpool , will give you much to ponder. Set in a desolate, freezing terrain, the extreme sequences of traveling alone down winding roads or quietly eating an entire dinner will drive some folks up the wall. For others, it was a wonderful minimalist treat, even though the last moment of the film seems to undercut an otherwise haunting journey.

* Belgian auteurs the Dardenne Brothers deliver another heartbreaking look into society's overlooked with Le Silence de Lorna. As Lorna spirals deeper into her debacle of marrying immigrants for green card money, I got the overwhelming feeling of watching the work of genius filmmakers, still working in their prime.

* Without a film at Toronto in five years, Kiyoshi Kurosawa's surreal family deconstruction Tokyo Sonata finds the director refreshingly close to his finest film (though his 2001 Pulse will forever top that list.) After a man loses his "administration" job at the office, his desperation to keep it secret from his family leads the film into some startling scenes, stirring up fears of feeling useless and helpless.

* Barry Jenkins' Medicine for Melancholy was a crisp, mumblecore entry following two educated hipsters as they hilariously deconstruct and romanticize San Francisco, in all its gentrification glory. And for those who hate the term "mumblecore," make sure to actually watch some before you dismiss the whole genre.

* I'd all but given up on Kevin Smith movies, but I nervously went to his new movie, Zack and Miri Make a Porno. To my surprise, it was funny. Taking the self-depreciative Seth Rogen and the plucky Elizabeth Banks and placing them in what feels like one of the more recent John Waters film, this raunchfest has some surprisingly hilarious, stoner timing (ultimately outshining, in my opinion, David Gordon Green's lazy and overlong mess, Pineapple Express).

* Speaking of overlong, Steven Soderbergh's Che (parts one and two) felt like an enjoyable A&E channel program, an eight-episode history lesson with a solid performance by Benicio Del Toro, though there did seem to be more excitement in finishing the four hours and 25 minutes then the actual movie itself.

* Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler was an oddly low-key and sentimental take on a down-and-out aging 1980s wrestler (played flawlessly by a seriously steroid-induced Mickey Rourke). The scenes with estranged daughter (Evan Rachel Wood) and stripper with a heart of gold (Marisa Tomei) sadly felt overly sappy, like it was one of the 80s films that Aronofsky was suppose to be reinventing. But then again, that could have been his point. Either way, it proved a very enjoyable departure.

* Hirokazu Kore-eda's Still Walking was one of two films that seemed to use Tokyo Story (1953) as its inspiration. During a family reunion, Kore-eda methodically drifts from one family member's hurt feelings to the next, without ever throwing a cheap shot. The end result was quite reminiscent of the sensitivity that his Nobody Knows (2004) delivered.

* The other Ozu nod was Oliver Assayas' Summer Hours. He's a director I love to hate, but nothing could have prepared me for how wonderful this film was. Where were the filmmaker's usual snarky storytelling devices, self-important cameos by his favorite rock stars, or high handed pop culture "confrontations"? His films have always come off as pretentious and humorless, as in Demonlover (2002) and Boarding Gate (2007), yet all of my beliefs to that effect were erased during this exploration into events following the death of a mother, and the feelings (or lack thereof) of nostalgia towards family heritage. The film is so complex and utterly profound, I found myself wanting to show this film to everyone whom I care about… and give deserved props to the director.

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks programs the MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS series at the Castro Theatre, teaches film history at the Academy of Art University, and is the Operations DIrector at the San Francisco Silent Film Festival.