For the better part of the last decade, it's been almost unanimously acknowledged that Aamir Khan knows what he's doing. Sure, he might seem too far out on a limb, but as the pieces fall, he always ends up topping himself and standing taller than before.

So the industry -- this industry that relies so heavily on what Conventional Wisdom and Trade Pundits say -- has, incredibly enough, thrown in the towel and given up trying to beat Aamir. This year the two films Aamir produced, Dhobi Ghat and Delhi Belly, were radical products for the Indian market, and could not be more dramatically different from each other.

The first, directed by Khan's wife Kiran Rao, was a serene and artistic look at Mumbai, with understated performances and music. It felt a bit like a film school graduation movie, except with excellent production values, and Khan himself starred as a scowling artist.

The second, directed by Abhinay Deo, was anything but mellow. A loud and sloppy kerfuffle that made an anthem out of a swearword and stood apart as the most gloriously foul-mouthed Hindi film of all time, where Khan starred as a 1980s movie-star caricature.

The first won him -- well, not really critical encomiums -- at least brownie points from the missus, as well as some money where there would otherwise have been none at all, for a half-English arthouse film in a country of Dabanggs. The other was one of the year's most lauded hits, one slapped on the back for breaking new ground. (Yes, it essentially swore a lot, but one of the things Aamir invites is hyperbole.)