13 - Blade Runner: The Final Cut

I have a confession to make. This year, I turned down the chance to watch Ridley Scott’s awe-inspiring visual masterpiece Blade Runner on the big screen. Blasphemy! Heresy! Revoke his film geek license!, I hear you scream. But wait, hear me out. I only rejected the opportunity because it was given to me a couple of weeks before the film’s lavish DVD release and I wanted to wait until then to enjoy it. And frankly, I was right. The thing about Blade Runner is that it’s such a grand cinematic spectacle that the more philosophical aspects of the script get lost amid Scott‘s amazing sets. Watching it on the small screen, these issues come to foreground more and the film becomes a really quite heartbreaking piece about human (and robot) frailty. Yes, I know it’s a bit of cheat to include it here, especially as this new ‘definitive’ cut changes very little from the 1992 Director’s Cut. But, from an entirely subjective point of view, I have not enjoyed Blade Runner before quite as much as I have this year. So it’s on. Don’t like it? Get your own list!

12 - The Science of Sleep

God bless Michel Gondry and his Blue Peter approach to filmmaking. Science of Sleep may lack the tight, inventive scripting of regular collaborator Charlie Kaufman, but Gondry's own attempt at screenwriting forms a wonderfully bitter-sweet little flight of fancy in which Gael Garcia Bernal's dorky animator attempts to woo next-door neighbour Charlotte Gainsbourg through the power of his dreams. Cue sticky backed plastic, loo rolls and charm-a-plenty as Gondry creates out of crap some of the most striking, ethereal and just plain beautiful dream sequences this side of a David Lynch film. It all bodes well for his next film (released next month), the movie-themed Be Kind, Rewind, in which Jack Black and Mos Def remake the likes of Ghostbusters and Rush Hour after wiping out the contents of their video rental store. Hopefully they’ll get Anthea Turner in to make Tracey Island for Thunderbirds. In one way, she and Gondry are kindred spirits…

11 - Spider-Man 3

Spider-Man 3 is a film of two halves. Part one, the good part, is the film director Sam Raimi intended to make. Part 2, the bad part, is the film the producers foistered on him by forcing the inclusion of fan favourite villain Venom. In retrospect, it was foolish hoping that the excess exposition the character brought with him would make for anything more than a confused (and confusing) piece of filmmaking. But Raimi, whose talents as a storyteller are too frequently overlooked in favour of his skill with the zoom button, has still managed to pull an engaging, entertaining and exciting sequel from the wreckage. That he challenges Spidey’s moral authority and questions the polarized right/wrong world superheroes exist in on top of this is nothing short of a miracle. Rumours of masses of deleted scenes and four alternate endings prove Raimi had to compromise his vision and hopefully he’ll return to the film in the near future for a stronger, less contrived Director’s Cut.

10 - Away From Her

Sarah Polley is one of the last people you’d expect to see making a film about an old couple ripped apart by Alzheimer’s Disease. A George Clooney-esque political rant, perhaps, but what could the young, politically-active Polley see in an adaptation of Alice Munroe’s short story The Bear Came Over The Mountain? Well, whatever attracted her to it, it was a wise choice. Away From Her is a wonderful debut feature that may deal with a bleak subject, but is more melancholic than out-and-out miserable thanks to Polley’s sensitive script and delicate direction. Julie Christie gives one of the performances of her career as the sufferer, while Canadian actor Gordon Pinsent is quietly noble as her suffering husband. But Polley remains the star of this show. Sofia Coppola aside, Hollywood is in desperate need of some strong, female directors and Away From Her is indication that Polley could be just the person to fill that gap.

9 - In the Shadow of the Moon

Space, to paraphrase Douglas Adams, is big. Really, really big. So big in fact that filmmakers have struggled to fit it’s ginormity onto even the grandeur of the silver screen. Ron Howard and Phillip Kaufman have made admirable attempts with Apollo 13 and The Right Stuff respectively, but the finest exploration of the triumphs and tragedies of the space race is this majestic documentary from British director John Sington. It's a very simple set-up, combining only intimate talking heads with some exquisite NASA footage. But when the astronaughts being interviewed are as fascinating and wise as the ones on the Apollo missions are and the footage so breathtaking as the stuff on view here, the simplicity of the set-up is beneficial. Add some fascinating, little-seen tidbits (Nixon's pre-recorded message of failure for the Apollo 11 mission is chilling) and a refreshing refusal to sugar-coat or sentimentalise the issues and this is superb viewing for space nuts and non-geeks alike.

8 - Ratatouille

If Ratatouille proves anything, it’s that Brad Bird is one of the finest directors of animation currently working. Having shunned the late 90s CG bandwagon with the gloriously 2D The Iron Giant and then taken Pixar off the buddy-movie track with The Incredibles, the former Simpsons director once more finds success with this sweet tale of a rat who dreams of being a chef at a top Parisian restaurant. The animation is, of course, top notch (although, it is quite strange salivating at CG food), while Bird’s direction also shines, something that bodes well for his first venture into live-action: a drama focussing on the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco. But it is Bird’s talent as a screenwriter which really makes Ratatouille stand out from the crowd. Channelling the spirit of Frank Capra, he tells a charming, simple story of the little man (well, rat) triumphing against the odds to make for arguably Pixar’s most rich and textured film to date.

7 - Half Nelson

How do you re-invent the inspirational high-school drama genre? Well, if Half Nelson is to be believed, you get it hooked on drugs. Ryan Fleck and Anna Boden’s film about disillusioned urban high school teacher Dan Dunne seemed like it would be just a normal genre flick, not too different from Hilary Swank’s similarly-themed (but critically derided) effort Freedom Writers. However, from these bare bones the writer/directors have created a heartfelt piece of filmmaking about an alienated young man turning to drugs in a desperate attempt to feel something. He is helped in this bid by pupil Drey (superb newcomer Shareeka Epps), making the film very dark at times. However, Half Nelson is ultimately a film of hope not just for the characters, but for we filmgoers: in Fleck, Boden, Epps and star Ryan Gosling there is genuine hope that American independent cinema has a very bright future indeed.

6 - Enchanted

One of the most lamentable things about modern Hollywood is that it appears to have lost its ability to make great kids films. Pixar aside, when was the last time you watched a real kiddie classic? Last year‘s Monster House was a hoot, but not quite popular enough to be considered classic, while Shrek can be gratingly postmodern at times. Enchanted is also fairly postmodern, with its story of a fairy tale princess catapulted into the real world by an evil queen. But the difference with Kevin Lima's film is that it really is all about the kids. Like Pinocchio, Dumbo and Bambi, it’s a rites of passage story in which our heroine comes of age and realises that happily ever afters don't always come how you think they will. Chuck in one of Disney's best showtunes (the magnificent, Carribbean-tinged That's How You Know) and a turn from Amy Adams that is every bit as good as Julie Andrews's in Mary Poppins and you have a film that is the best the Disney studio has created since the Lion King in 1994 and shows there is still life in the old dog yet.

5 - The Fountain

When I first saw The Fountain right at the start of the year, I was split on its quality. On the one hand it's a deeply personal piece of filmmaking that dares to defy genre pigeonholing. On the other though, it takes itself far too seriously and its conscious bids to be obscure leave the audience trying to work out what’s going on rather than feeling its emotion. I eventually muddled my way through to a low four star verdict, but now, after a few DVD viewings, it’s a five-star classic. Sure, it’s still borderline incomprehensible and the sight of a bald Hugh Jackman floating through space in the lotus position is one of the more absurd of the year. But, once you get you’re head around the twisting narrative and some of the more bizarre sights, The Fountain emerges as an emotional masterpiece in which a grieving husband has to get to grips with his wife’s death. So, it’s nothing more than a sci-fi reworking of a Five Life mid-afternoon tearjerker? Perhaps, but with visuals as stunning as the ones Darren Aronofsky musters and a script quite as outlandish as this, it deserves to be remembered as one of the boldest (and most successful) directorial risks of the opening decade of the twenty-first century.

4 - The Bourne Ultimatum

Here's the fourth (but by no means last) British film on this list, yet some would doubt its Britishness. Made over several international locations, with American money and a mostly American cast, this is without doubt a big Hollywood blockbuster. However, it’s one made by an unassuming British director: Paul Greengrass. Does that on its own make it a British film? Perhaps not. But compare Ultimatum and its Greengrass-directed prequel Supremacy to the first, more straightforward Bourne film, superficially directed by Mr and Mrs Smith helmer Doug Liman, and you begin to see just how important Greengrass is to the franchise’s success. Virtually rewriting the rule-book for the modern thriller, Greengrass has made two edge-of-the-seat rollercoasters which speed along at a rollicking rate, but, unlike the first film, have some horrifying moments of terror to remind the audience that action heroics always come at a price (check out the Waterloo station scene in Ultimatum for a good example). More significantly, there is an actual point to this third film. While Liman was happy to turn Identity into an empty cat-and-mouse chase, Greengrass turns the bloke-running script of Ultimatum into a stark warning against the perils of surveillance society, making for one of the most political and though-provoking thrillers of the year.

3 - This Is England

Shane Meadows has been waiting for a breakout film for some years now. A Room For Romeo Brass, Twenty Four Seven and Dead Man’s Shoes have gained critical kudos, but not really a wide audience. This Is England didn’t quite give him that either, but its critical success and relatively impressive box office have shown that Meadows is a director on the up. Blending a typically British slice of social realism with a dash of warm comedy that peers such as Mike Leigh and Ken Loach sometimes lack, This is England tells the tale of Shaun (newcomer Thomas Turgoose on superb form), a disillusioned 80s child who falls in with a group of far right skinheads as a reaction to his father‘s death in the Falklands conflict. The sympathetic treatment this group receives could have undermined the film and its left-leaning politics, perhaps even making it appeal to the very people its supposed to be criticising. But the most intelligent thing Meadows did here was to make his right-wing characters neither heroes nor villains. Instead, their extremism is seen merely as a by-product of the poverty and desperation of their society, giving This is England as much resonance with the modern world as it has with the 80s era it is set in.

2 - Control

As one of the few people who can't stand the drunken stag party ramblings of Shaun Ryder and the Happy Mondays I found myself slightly disappointed by Michael Winterbottom's 24 Hour Party People. Sure, it's a magnificently evocative chronicle of the height of Tony Wilson's grand plan for Madchester, but that story dictates a prioritising of the Mondays and their Factory-destroying drug habits over the far more interesting tale of Ian Curtis and Joy Division. Thankfully, in Control, I got the film I was looking for. Atmosphere video director Anton Corbijn's film is a heartbreakingly normal tale of a gifted individual whose youthful vigour and desire for escapism was suffocated by the grim reality of fame, epilepsy and life in Macclesfield. Sam Riley is hauntingly realistic as the doomed singer, while Matt Greenhalgh’s daring script bravely shuns the tiresome clichés of the music biopic. But Control's significance expands far beyond simple cinema. In the year of Tony Wilson's death and New Order's split, Corbijn’s film is a ghostly, black and white tribute, not only to Curtis, but to all the figures who helped make Manchester the bristling, vibrant city it is today.

1 - Sunshine

The more I watch Sunshine, the more convinced I become that it‘s one of the finest science-fiction films of modern times. Borrowing liberally from the likes of Alien, Solaris and Silent Running, it's a sci-fi actioner with brains enough to realise that grand cinematic visuals can be eye-popping without being eye-rotting. The astonishing sequences that Danny Boyle creates in the course of the doomed spaceship Icarus’s bid to re-ignite the Sun are certainly the most beautiful 2007 has produced and can rank up there with the most magnificent the science-fiction genre has ever seen, with Mercury's peaceful transit across the face of the sun a particular highlight. But Sunshine is more than just a pretty picture. Teaming up with Boyle for the third time, screenwriter Alex Garland has created a piece of future fiction that not only bursts with realism (China and America dominate the Icarus’s crew, being the only two remaining superpowers in this fifty years hence future), but also poses some pretty big questions about our place in the universe, our reliance on the Sun and the role of science in explaining the mysteries of nature, space and God. The cosmopolitan cast also shine, while John Murphy’s team-up with Underworld on the score works a treat. But it's Boyle who is the star of the show. With his attention to detail, focus on visuals and ability to work in different genres, he's nothing less than a British Stanley Kubrick, and this is his 2001.