By Bentley FordPLAY Columnist

Before I begin rattling off the final five of my Top 10, I have a correction to make. In last week’s column, I thought Little Miss Sunshine made for a charming No.10. It does, but I’ve gone through a bit of spiritual rejiggering over the past couple of weeks. I hate charm now. I’ve come to prefer clenched jaws, slights of hand and British-but-brutish machismo. And so I’m officially naming Casino Royale my new No. 10. Deal with it, you pansy-assed Sunshine fans, with your non-fat-soy-chai-lattes and your indie-credulity.

With that out of the way, let’s make fun of another movie I like, The Queen. I refuse to put it on my list. I don’t care if it’s the talk of the town. That’s not to say that it isn’t quaint and entirely worth seeing, but I left that movie thinking one thing: “I bet my grandma would really like that movie. I should call her.” Any movie that prompts you to call your grandmother – especially when that call interrupts her daily tea – has no place on my list.

But there’s another reason for The Queen’s absence: I prefer another royal highness, by the name of Marie Antoinette. Grandma wouldn’t like it. Hell, I fell asleep the first time I saw it. And, as I explained in a previous column, many of its greatest qualities are cited as its greatest follies. Yet no other movie this year has prompted so much discussion and divisiveness, primarily about the importance of various quality standards – historical accuracy, pacing, performance, et cetera. It’s like one of those Faberg