My ambitions are greatly helped by the fact that for the first time since 2003, I’m actually excited about several of the films. “Les Miserables” was knocked out on Christmas with my family of die-hard musical fans who could turn the film into a sing-along if we so wished. The general consensus: The only thing sadder than a three-minute long close-up of Anne Hathaway’s emaciated face is the sound of Amanda Seyfried warbling.

I watched “Django Unchained” in a smelly theatre over winter break with a box of beignets on my lap (the perfect movie snack for a film set in the South). The Tarantino movie was made better by the throngs of a cheering audience whenever a white man was shot. “Lincoln” was viewed in Washington D.C. after a visit to the memorial of the same name, next to a roommate who was suddenly awash with a wave of political righteousness.

Then I hit a roadblock. What started out as a fun film-filled exercise turned into me dreading the moment when I would have to watch “Life of Pi.” If I wanted to sit through two hours of a boy with a tiger, I would break out my collection of “Calvin and Hobbes” comics.

Thankfully, Jennifer Lawrence, number one on my list of female celebrity crushes, compelled me to finally watch “Silver Linings Playbook.” Bradley Cooper notwithstanding, it was actually worth the time investment, if you are able to overlook the pat endings Hollywood studios usually prescribe to complex mental disorders. And because Reddit said it was good, I watched the sanctimonious indie “Beasts of the Southern Wild.”

While I still have a month to crank out “Argo,” “Zero Dark Thirty,” “Amour” and “Life of Pi,” I’m probably not going to bother. A number of excuses are in my way:

First, Ben Affleck and Kathryn Bigelow weren’t nominated for Best Director, and a movie hasn’t won an Academy Award for Best Picture without a Best Director nomination since “Driving Miss Daisy” (1989).

Second, Washington D.C., where I am currently studying, is averaging a toasty 19 degrees with wind chill, so walking to the closest theatre (in Georgetown, where the wealthy citizens don’t want a Metro stop) is wholly unappealing.

Last, I am plagued by a number of questions about the remaining movies. Will viewing “Zero Dark Thirty” mean that I support the use of torture in America’s war on terrorism? Will “Amour” render me catatonically depressed? Is “Argo” even still in theatres?

So the journey to see all nine films still continues, probably. My favorite film thus far is “Silver Linings Playbook.” The best is probably “Django.” But what the Academy will pick is “Lincoln.”