In this first issue of Screen Machine for the new year, contributors were asked to provide a list of their favourite films for 2012. I opted out, not because I have an aversion to lists, it’s just that I don’t know if I even saw ten new releases in 2012. The averaged “20 Best” list of Screen Machine contributors’ favourite films speaks to just how estranged from the contemporary cinema I was last year; I saw just three of those twenty. There were a couple of reasons for this. 2012 was, for me, The Year of The Blu-Ray. 21st century technology spurred me to spend more time at home with the back catalogue than at the multiplex or the art-house. My exile from the Brisbane International Film Festival also continued to bite, limiting my access to the sorts of films we tend to fall for at this publication. I can’t help but feel like a bad cinephile for being so disengaged. Though prescriptions vary, it seems at least part of cinephilia is remaining conversant with current offerings. However, my cine-guilt complex is a topic for another day. In addressing the theme of “anticipation” I would like to share some thoughts on what I am very pleased to call my favourite film of last year, and so make up for a lack of breadth with depth. This is a film that does not feature on the “20 Best” list, but should. I want to talk about Magic Mike.