Lauerman: They were. But I have to say: I watched that movie over Thanksgiving, with my family. And it did as reasonably well as anything could in a living room that included two liberals, two arch-conservatives, a couple of college kids and two octogenarians. I loved "Fish Tank," but I think it would have thoroughly confused my mother. Is there something to be said for a middling, un-ambitious entertainment that appeals meekly but broadly?

O'Hehir: Oh, totally. That's an excellent point, and that's what movies like "Grown-Ups" or the "Focker" franchise are meant to do -- appeal across demographic and generational lines, so that large summer and/or holiday audiences can be satisfied. And it is important for critics to be cognizant of that.

My mom might tolerate "Fish Tank" OK, but obviously that's not its role. I do think that the social role of pleasing all comers can be accomplished without the combination of Hollywood vanity and aggressive stupidity in "Grown Ups," though. Audiences seem to be taking a pass on James L. Brooks' "How Do You Know," which I think is unfortunate. That's an enjoyable movie with stars, gags and a love story that would offend very few viewers from 8 to 88, or whatever.

Lauerman: Right. The most objectionable part of "Grown Ups" to me, to be honest -- and devil's advocating over, I'll admit it's a really dumb film -- is that awful, key gag they showed of shooting the arrow straight up in the air as everyone runs away. Do you remember that? It's played as farce, but that's the sort of idiotic thing that kids will actually go out and do.

O'Hehir: That's a good point. Normally I don't worry about that in movies, but if you remember that movie about frat boys lying on the yellow stripe in the middle of roads, a kid actually got killed doing that. There are an awful lot of gags about inflicting physical pain in "Grown Ups," actually, which is nothing new. I sure hope there aren't kids who went to E.R.'s this fall with arrows in their feet.

Lauerman: Or anywhere else. Did you expect any movies to be near the bottom that weren't? Movies that, in retrospect, wore better as the year went on?

O'Hehir: Well, I don't get the impression that my fellow critics have much time for the "Twilight" franchise, and in all honesty our readers weren't much interested either. I haven't read the books, and don't intend to. But simply taken on its own, the latest installment was solid popcorn cinema, with committed acting, good action scenes and a classic romantic triangle. It's not in my top 20 or anything, but it was a whole lot better than many earnest indie films I saw this year!

Lauerman: I was surprised to see "Killers" so far down your list, because I remember you defending Ashton Kutcher.

O'Hehir: Oh, that's a terrible movie! Almost unbearable to watch. That director, Robert Luketic, personally embodies the most vapid kind of Hollywood style, without even having the flair or technical prowess of somebody like Michael Bay or Tony Scott. I am willing to defend Kutcher, up to a point. But I have to admit that proposing him as the next Clark Gable, as I did this year, was somewhere between a joke and a dare. Like: This guy might have this kind of talent, if he can figure out how to harness it and say no to the offensively stupid roles.

Lauerman: Well, but you've liked him in other things, too. So it made sense.

O'Hehir: Yes, I have. He's one of those actors who can be entertaining in anything. I enjoyed his camera commercials! If people dismiss him for making bad choices, or undermining himself with his jokey persona, or whatever, I simply disagree. I would love to see him get better parts, but that may not be the plan -- and I know Kutcher has a plan.

Lauerman: Is there a point on the list that delineates Good from Bad? Where, precisely, is the dividing line?

O'Hehir: To me, everything up to about 85 or so is a movie I think is basically pretty good, and then I start to get major reservations about 92 or 93 -- with "Conviction," which is watchable but very flawed, or "Waiting for 'Superman,'" a compelling but problematic documentary. And then, somewhere around 110, you get to movies I just don't think are very good, but there might be interesting things about them.

Lauerman: Poor "Fair Game" (No. 110).

O'Hehir: Yes, exactly! That's pretty much it. Two wonderful actors, a great story and some good scenes. But it runs out of gas, and ends up as much less than the sum of its parts.

And then the ones I would call bad don't start until maybe the 140s. I would say No. 145, the German comedy "Soul Kitchen," is watchable and interesting, kind of funny but totally minor. And then 146 is "All Good Things," which is not a good thing at all.

Lauerman: Your low ranking of "Waiting for 'Superman'" (No. 93) is actually probably the single biggest shock on the list. It's just so universally beloved, that film.

O'Hehir: Yes, I puzzled about where to put "'Superman.'" It's super-well-intentioned and I admire what Davis Guggenheim was trying to do there. The emotion in that film is very effective, and I guess there's a political element to my judgment. I just don't think he depicted the public education debate fairly enough. He meant to, but there was a failure of understanding or execution.

Lauerman: How was it not fair?

O'Hehir: I think Davis really buys into the argument that charter schools are the be-all/end-all solution to the dilemmas of public education. Now, I am not a status-quo booster at all, nor am I a charter-hater. (As Salon's readers may know, my children are currently home-schooled.) But he blundered into a really complicated situation that people have pondered for seemingly eons, and thought he found the answer. It'd be like somebody reading up on Israel and Palestine a little, and saying, "Hey -- they need to have two states!"

Lauerman: Right, yes. Though it's a front-runner for the documentary Oscar, surely. What would your pick be?

O'Hehir: There were so many terrific docs this year! I think I'd have to go with Charles Ferguson's "Inside Job," which is a rage-driven exposé of the global financial crisis and just an exemplary use of the medium. Although I'd also be tempted by "The Tillman Story," which is a simultaneously heartbreaking and hopeful movie about a really unusual American family.

Check out Andrew O'Hehir's ultimate 2010 Movie List -- and tell us what you thought the worst film of the year was in the comments section below.

Coming up with our chronological list of 15 biggest stories was, naturally, impossible. I'm thrilled with our final list, which takes us back through Salon's history and shows off the full range of our talents: Political exposés, investigative reports, riveting essays, pinpoint analysis and cultural observations. And we've asked some of our best writers through the years to come back and describe their coups. Of two of our biggest investigative stories -- an extensive and disturbing Abu Ghraib photo archive, and the apparent reckless disregard for Arlington National Cemetery by military and civilian leaders -- former editor Joan Walsh says: "In both our Arlington and Abu Ghraib coverage, I was proud of the fact that we kept the focus on the decision makers, and never scapegoated lower-level military folks." And don't miss Talbot's rousing defense of our infamous Henry Hyde story -- the one that, for many, put Salon on the map.

But there was no way to come to an internal agreement here about what belonged on this list, and I suspect some of you will be appalled that a personal favorite didn't make it. That's why I hope you'll send in your own favorite Salon story through the years to 15biggest@salon.com. We'll run your best suggestions next week.

Enjoy the slide show -- the stories are listed chronologically -- and thanks for reading Salon.

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There was one problem: Nobody really found Louis CK sexy.

I mean, we all found him hilarious, and refreshingly raw, and uncompromising as the creator of a daring show plopped into a turbid sea of sitcom mediocrity. But hot and desirable? Telling staff members and friends he was our leading pick elicited a reaction somewhere between cold and openly hostile.

So the search was back on -- as it is every year, when we decide our pick isn't quite right, when some last-minute shuffle or bloody backstage drama sends our plans scattering to the floor. This year, as we've previously announced, we decided to rebrand our list of sexiest men as something a bit more singular; after some terrific, "this-close" reader suggestions, we settled on Salon's Men on Top. And what's funny about this collection of 15 men -- and partly ridiculous, and possibly galling, but also kind of endearing -- is how seriously we take this endeavor. Staff members can be outraged. Sleepless nights ensue. I will never forget Galifianakis-Gate of 2009, which pit television critic against news editor against pop culture writer in a standoff that threatened to tear the very fabric of this company apart. (Zach Galifianakis eventually landed at No. 4 on the list, but not before being called a "homunculus" in a Salon staff meeting.) There is one moment every November where I am ripped asunder with indecision, and from my panic and despair you'd think I was deciding the Man Booker Prize, not the boinkability of, say, Louis CK.

But to dismiss this pursuit as merely frivolous, as nothing but a mindless, pointless waste of space is a) kind of lame and b) to misunderstand the power these personalities have in our lives, how they reflect our own passions and beliefs. People weren't rallying for Zach Galifianakis because they thought "The Hangover" was really boss; they rallied for Zach Galifianakis because they were tired of the tyranny of sculpted abs and frosted tips, because funniness is the finest seduction, because they like the smell of chili powder and clothes pulled repeatedly from a hamper. (Those who rallied against Zach Galifianakis feel strongly about showers and hair growing from unusual orifices. This is America, people. We can agree to disagree.) What makes someone attractive is ultimately an unanswerable question. It's like arguing about the color of the sky, or whether cake or pie is superior. And frankly, there will always be a part of me that feels sad and defeated and wrong that the winner isn't Jon Stewart. (Stewart was on the first list, in 2006, and for the record, we've only repeated one winner in five years: Neil Patrick Harris.)

I know many people reading this just thought to themselves, "Pffft, Jon Stewart isn't sexy." But this is the beauty of attraction, folks, the reason People magazine's bogus list irritated us in the first place: There is no right answer. There is no sexiest man living. And if there is, he is more likely the achingly beautiful, mysterious, silent and sad-eyed janitor who works in your building and not, say, Brad Pitt.

And yet: We have a list of 15 men, in various stripes of dreamy, to unveil on Wednesday. And that means I have a long list of men who did not make the cut through some quirk of elimination, a man someone at Salon loved enough to nominate but who couldn't make it through to the finals, because, well, life is plainly unfair. Let us give them some sunlight right now.

Drake, Mark Ruffalo, Vincent Cassel -- talented men, handsome men, amazing men who didn't make the list. Joel McHale: We love you on "Community," but the bar for charismatic comedian is awfully high this year, and you did not make the list. Adam Scott: We'll miss you on "Party Down," but you did not make the list. No one from "Glee" made the list, but if they had, it absolutely would have been Mark Salling, aka Puck. Education activist Geoffrey Canada is a leader of integrity, a man more of us should aim to be like -- but he did not make the list. Sidney Crosby is an athlete of tremendous agility -- but he did not make the list. Jesse Eisenberg did not make the list, but he did appear in approximately one out of every four movies this year, so surely he'll star in the list's film adaption.

More interesting than the near misses, though, are the mini-dust-ups among the staff, proof that one person's true love is another's reason to gag. One editor finds chef Eric Ripert to be a knee-weakening vision of blue eyes and pillowy lips; another thinks he's fish-eyed and repulsive. One writer finds Ben Affleck charismatic, witty and inarguably handsome; another finds him a narcissist and a dullard. Is Eminem damaged and hot, or offensive and disgusting? It's almost endearing to see whom our staff members will fruitlessly throw down for: Al Franken, Kevin Smith, Joe Biden. Our e-mail threads grow long and combative and strange.

Which brings us back to Louis CK -- the great, the amazing almost sexiest man of 2010. Really, if you haven't seen the first season of "Louie," you should DVR it. The man is a sage for our times. To show how close he was to the brass ring, we even had a write-up by the remarkable Heather Havrilesky, who explained: "In these dreadful, depressing times, you know what's hot? Guys who know how dreadful and depressing these times are. These days, instead of swooning over arrogant, well-groomed winners, our hearts are captured by those guys who are willing to admit that they feel defeated, that their kids exhaust them, and that all they want is to eat a huge bowl of ice cream and go to bed. When the end of the world feels nigh, resignation -- and realism -- is sexy. Plus, there's just nothing false about this man. He can't fake it, so he doesn't even try. And unlike almost every other man alive, Louis CK knows that he's self-pitying and simple-minded and has a big gut. Imagine how relaxing it would be if all men were so self-aware."

On second thought, maybe he is kinda hot. Well, Louis CK: There's always next year.

And yet, as we enter our fifth year we think it's time to retire our original moniker -- a clear homage to that other list. We'd like to find something that better signifies what our list is: men who inspire us, make us laugh and think, and turn us on in all the right ways. The best guys, the top guys, the amazing and awesomest guys. Funny enough, all the words that spring to mind have that embarrassing whiff of corniness about them -- dreamboats, hunks, studs, beefcake. It's hard to say those words without cringing. So what to name it? "Salon's Men We Love"? Too Esquire. "Salon: We'd Tap That"? Perfect, if it were 2005 and if by "perfect" you mean "terrible."

So we bring this to you, dear readers. We're opening up the discussion to hear what you would suggest we name our beloved annual feature. Leave your thoughts in the comments section, or post it on Open Salon. Let the 2010 naming of the something-something-est men begin!