And the Leech collapsed in the corner and bemoaned these juvenile bouts of attention seeking from The Guardian, this fawning over films where the methodology consists of throwing a bucket of slurry at a wall to see what sticks. He began wailing that the one remaining space could not accommodate Donnie Darko, Lost in Translation, The Lives of Others, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly and that at this rate it was probably going to end up going to The Dark Knight. Or Ant and Dec’s Alien Autopsy. Or Transformers 2.

But then a voice guided the Leech to the dark side - The Telegraph, where its film critic determined, with exquisite taste, that Mulholland Drive was the film of the decade and that Donnie Darko should not be forced out of the Top 100 to make way for films like Zoolander. And even though the list itself was fairly pedestrian and contained nonsense like A.I. and King Kong, the Leech recognised that these lists are subjective and just someone else’s opinion. It just so happened that The Guardian's opinions were plain wrong. "Seriously", he said, "if they make Lord of the Rings number 1 tomorrow I'm going right wing".

Mulholland Drive. Enjoyable enough on its own terms, even better when you watch it with me and are gently encouraged (not forced, no no no) to listen to me trying to explain everything for the entire duration of the film.