It's Oscar week, which means dozens of retrospectives will be printed in every media format, and marathons of winners and nominees will be playing all week. I always have these grand plans to watch AMC until my eyeballs fall out, but though I dutifully set my DVR, I probably won't get around to Kramer vs Kramer until the summer television hiatus. That's the thing about Oscar winners: they're the Best Picture of a given year, but how many do we race to watch again and again? Glancing back over the winners since 1990, I can only find a few that I keep in constant rotation: Unforgiven, Braveheart, Shakespeare in Love, Gladiator, and LOTR: The Return of the King. Titanic and Dances with Wolves are rarer indulgences.

On the other hand, I've always loathed Forrest Gump, and never made it through Crash (one summer, a class next to the academic office in which I worked played it over and over again, so I've heard it more times than any living person should have). The Silence of the Lambs and Million Dollar Baby leave me wincing too much (the Q-Tip through Maggie's broken nose still makes me gag where a beheading never does). I have never been able to put myself through the anguish of watching Schindler's List again because that lone 1993 viewing is still so fresh in my mind.