Confession: For someone who “doesn’t care about the Oscars,” I actually do care about the Oscars. They serve as a useful snapshot of a given year in film history. What we as moviegoers value often differs from what Academy voters value. Not only that, but what Academy voters value tends to change over time.

A year ago, I lost my father. I don’t mean he was misplaced or that he’s wandering about in a hedge maze or anything – he died. It wasn’t a surprise, he’d been sick for a while. But it was terribly sad. Obviously. In the year since, my family and I have grieved his loss and celebrated his life in a number of different ways. I’ve discovered a sort of atomic half-life of influence he had on me, most surprising of which is just how much of a literary impact he made.

When two cinephiles realize they’re in the company of a fellow addict, it’s hard to shut them up. They compare favorite movies, quote lines of dialogue, reenact scenes. And then the moment invariably comes when one is forced to admit having not seen a particular movie; he’s been meaning to, he just...never got around to it. And if he’s lucky, the other cinephile will receive this information with excitement rather than derision, saying, “Oh you’ve got to see it, you’re going to love it!”

If you’ve seen the recently released film The Nice Guys, you were treated to a clever, funny, and offbeat tale of a couple of sad sacks (one a hired enforcer, the other a private eye) navigating the bizarro land of 1977 Los Angeles. And while this twist on the buddy-action-comedy is a good time, it’s hardly new territory for writer/director Shane Black.