The Wind Rises will never make it onto most people’s favourite Miyazaki films, but as a piece of art that dissects the creative process, and the career that led up to its inception, it’s memorable, poignant, and bitter-sweet.

Continuing Best For Film’s series of slightly mucky blogs in the run-up to Nymphomaniac‘s release tomorrow, our resident pervert Vincent has rolled up his sleeves and charged fist-first into the unexpectedly lavish castle of erotic inspiration (well, unexpected to everyone but Vincent) that is the Disney canon. Ever wanted to witness a grown man confess to fancying a fox? You’ve come to the right place.

Sex is awful isn’t it? Sweaty rutting that fails to stimulate a beneficial experience greater than the nerves, the physical exertion or the time you could have spent playing Final Fantasy XIV. Hello ladies, why yes I am single. Like most crippling personality defects, revulsion of sex probably stems from cinema. The great sex scenes are bad enough, creating a standard for physical beauty, ambient lighting and stamina that a mortal male could never hope to achieve, but it’s the terrible sex scenes that have really burrowed deep into your psyche.

Hollywood is big business. With more and more films now scraping, or downright flying, past the billion-dollar mark in box office receipts, it’s understandable that studios are going to pump cash into projects they think will net them a profit. Quite often, however, they appear to have absolutely no idea that a film is going to bomb. Here are a few examples of when studios should have absolutely known beforehand that a project was doomed.

BOOM

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug is a horrendous mishmash of CGI-dependent action sequences and poorly-paced unconvincing drama; but rather like a dwarf in a river-borne barrel, it bobs along rather nicely. Also like a dwarf, it carries quite a lot of extra flab around the middle, but its unassailable charisma and magnificent facial hair…

Snick.

Best of the Year is back, and this time we’re looking back almost a decade (Christ, can you believe Mean Girls is nine years old?) to the bright comedy lights of 2004, a golden age for charmingly stupid films with Ben Stiller in. Although we haven’t included Meet the Fockers, because it’s awful.

Thanks to the Prince Charles Cinema, Nipponophile and Studio Ghibli expert Vincent was recently given the chance to watch Kiki’s Delivery Service on the big screen – a full twenty-four years after it first appeared in cinemas. But how does the tale of one tiny witch and her chatty cat stand up to a repeat viewing? Pretty bloody well, as it turns out.

Right, it’s come to this. We’ve done the then-topical Top 10 Moustaches in film, the semi-libellous Top 10 reasons Ellen Page is a secret lesbian and the unnecessarily Photoshop-heavy Top 10 films that should be reshot with Arnold Schwarzenegger in the title role, and now we’re almost completely out of ideas. On an unrelated note, do you like boxes?