Citizen Kane, widely regarded as the greatest American movie ever made, was nominated for but didn't win the Academy Award for Best Picture. United 93, to my mind one of the best films of the last decade, wasn't even nominated. Naming the "best" movie of the year says more about the voter than it does about the picture.

Harder still is naming a best restaurant in any neighborhood, let alone the entire country. Tastes are subjective. So is taste itself. Besides, any kitchen can have an off night, and what if a critic arrives the one night those particular chefs were in the weeds? At least films are locked; the movie I see is the same movie you see, wherever you live. But my order of clam linguine won't taste the same as yours, even if made by the same chef the next night.

By that logic, a theater critic is more of a foodie than a movie reviewer. Three of my favorite performances in Oly theater this year were in the same play, but people whose opinion I respect tell me on succeeding nights those performances were over the top, hysterical.  I can only review the show I'm shown. But even if we see the same show the same night, you might respond more to a musical performance than I do. How do I assess, for example, Christie Murphy's "Jo" in the musical version of Little Women against Mandy Ryle's in the straight version, running concurrently? Should I give an actor bonus points for skillful dancing? Which is better, to be perfectly typecast, or to act outside one's usual range? Which is harder, to be brilliant in an amazingly well-written role, or to rise above a cardboard character? Yet each year we critics feel duty-bound to name our favorites. It's a fool's errand.

So I guess I'm that fool. To commemorate my first complete year as a theater critic, I'll be announcing my picks for "Carvy" awards in next week's issue. In addition to the caveats alluded to above, let me say I'd be happier just proffering a list of nominees. I've left quality work off my list. It's unavoidable, even after diligently rereading each 2010 review. If you were great in a show I didn't like, and some of you were, I apologize in advance because you weren't nominated. Inevitably, your fine work was tainted. Also, if you were terrific in, say, a production in Gig Harbor (Emileigh Kershaw, I'm looking at you), you were left off the list as well. The Carvies can only apply to Oly theater. I'll let fellow critics Joe Izenman and Joann Varnell ponder points north.

When I was in grad school, liberal academics told me the word "actress" was sexist. Their opinion seems to have dissipated, but I'm still respectful of it, and I use the phrases "Best Actor" and "Best Actress" merely to avoid awkwardness. I feel it's actually tougher for female actors, as there are fewer roles written for their talents. I'll name five quality lead performances for each gender, plus 10 supporting performances divided by gender. I'll list five great directorial efforts and five terrific plays. I'll name five nominees for Best Tech; I'm better trained as an actor and director than as a technician, so to simplify my appraisal, I'll regard entire crews as "ensemble performances." I realize that's disrespectful to individual talents, but it also avoids a three-page list of nominees I'm less qualified to judge. Finally, with hesitation and apologies, I'll name a winner in each category.

So see you next week with the Carvy list, and break a leg!

LINK: The winners