A last post from me as my time on this column comes to an end, but fret not – the revival, the reboot, the revamp is already under way

I didn’t want to get all Sinatra on you for my last Clip joint. The blog is – I hope – moving on to bigger things, and so I thought it was best to finish with the most mysterious and striking, the downright raddest, of story shapes: rebirth. Seeded in our psyches through the seasons, it winds its way down to us via the ancient Greeks’ valet of vegetation, Dionysus, then was cranked up to the very top of the metaphysical rollercoaster by our Christian friends: petite mort followed by glorious return. It’s a toughie to use now without self-regarding messianic hints – nice for A-listers with airs, annoying for everyone else – but don’t lose patience yet.

I have a feeling the rebirth archetype will claw back credibility very soon. Things are edgy on planet Earth: distended seasons, curdling economies, environmental “stress”. There seem to be two choices: hubris and The End, or hope. Art-wise, there’s been a bit too much cheap hubris going around for a while now – and I can only afford two or three cinema tickets a month. So how about something new?

1) The triumph of individual feeling over the mechanical: Neo’s return to life at the end of the first Matrix is really an instant of realisation, rewarded with an effect that is truly special – Agent Smith’s bullets hanging in mid-air.

2) A simple kiss finally brings light through the prison bars to Martin LaSalle – the “strange path” he must follow in Robert Bresson’s Pickpocket, Dostoevsky in miniature.

3) “The preacher said that all my sins is washed away, including that piggly-wiggly I knocked over in Yazoo.” If wronging pigs is high on Tim Blake Nelson’s fret-list in O Brother Where Art Thou?, I have a lifetime of bacon sandwiches to atone for.

4) Hauling a stone Buddha to the top of a snowy mountain is one way of gaining spiritual enlightenment; you have to wonder if Kim Ki-Duk was totting up extra karma points by playing the monk himself (and making an excellent movie) in 2003′s Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter … and Spring.

5) A certain Dickensian cocklewarmer has seen a fair few rebirths itself, but it seems like the screenwriter for 1988′s Scrooged had a few lines before adapting A Christmas Carol: Bill Murray’s redemption-by-telecast (very 80s) goes on and on.

I’m swivelling the spotlight on everyone who strutted on the red carpet for last week’s lead character roll call. This was our A-list:

1) “I done something new for this fight. I done wrestled with an alligator … ” Norman Mailer thought he was scared, but Muhammad Ali finds a star performance in adversity, drunk on his own humour and eloquence in When We Were Kings.

2) An entire universe emanates from one man, always 8° out of true, perpetually in need of light rearranging: Jacques Tati as Monsieur Hulot.

3) I found the final scenes of This Is England so intense and unmediated, it really felt like Shane Meadows was almost channelling something. Having a performer on board as charismatic as Thomas Turgoose, vulnerably whippersnapping, was a big help.

4) Boris Karloff is magnificent in The Bride of Frankenstein, learning the rudiments of language and gentleness from his new, blind friend. (I have visions of Arnie being much the same in his first acting lessons in LA: “Smoke – good!”)

5) And this week’s winner is … chris7572, for selecting Gena Rowlands as Gloria in her husband John Cassavetes’s 1980 thriller. I’ve never seen it, but this clip from the start – in which Gloria makes a snap decision on behalf of a Puerto Rican street kid carrying a heavy load – sank straight in like a chamber full of lead. And 99% of it is her presence: totally self-assured and indomitable, with a hint of world-weariness around her eyes that plays straight into the 70s high-civic-tragedy mode Cassavetes lays on from the start. A tone itself passing out of favour, as brasher stars, synth soundtracks and 80s glibness were beginning to take over town. Chris7572, don’t forget to email catherine.shoard@guardian.co.uk to claim your prize.

Thanks to AJBee, frogprincess, steenbeck and greatpoochini for the rest of this week’s picks

Thanks also to all those who’ve emailed her to enquire about writing Clip joint in the future, as we’re handing over to you, the people, to keep things going. Are you up to the challenge? Might you fancy getting paid – in gold bullion (oh, all right – pounds sterling) – every so often to pick your favourite clip on a particular subject? The floor is open – email Catherine if you’d like to get involved.

I want to say a massive thanks to everyone who’s helped build up Clip joint and made it a most excellent forum during my two-and-a-bit years writing it. I’ve learned an awful lot, and it’s been great trading film knowledge and divining the tastes behind those unsettling monikers. Of course, I’m looking forward to being a gamekeeper-turned-poacher, and posting comments on Clip joint discussions to come. I have to give a special mention to the hardcore (in order of appearance): earbud, frogprincess, MrDNA, ShatterFace, timthemonkey, Owlyross, Tombo, sotac27, doravale, iainl, ElDerino, phaine, daredavid, StevieBee, steenbeck, drbendyspoogun, quipu, mike65ie, SOMK, AJBee, MrWormold, leroyhunter, nilpferd, davidabsalom, jamie12, MsSauerkraut, Si27, Benj, TheDudeAbides, chris7572, greatpoochini, metalmicky, pompeyplayup. And anyone else with their hand on the DVD remote.