Filmmakers (and politicians) will tell you they’re flocking to New Mexico for the economic benefits. In the last few years Gov. Bill Richards, perhaps to tap into Hollywood money for his now-defunct presidential campaign, rammed through a slew of film incentives and tax breaks for productions willing to pick locations in the Land of Enchantment.

My theory, however, is that Hollywood’s just sick of Canadian hospitality. For the last decade, British Columbia has established itself as the home of cheap sets. But, dammit, they’re all just too nice, eh?

Whatever the motivation — economic or cultural — films are moving to the Southwest, and as a result, moviegoers have seen a reinvigoration of the Western genre. And I’m not talking the John Ford/John Wayne God-Bless-the-American-Frontiersman schmaltz (think, Kevin Costner’s 2003 Open Range). Nah, pad’ner, 2006 and 2007 were full of Sergio Leon-caliber literary, genre-transcending and often experimental epic-Westerns. And sure enough, at least three of them picked up multiple Oscar nominations this week. I might even go so far as to argue that the Green Chile Western (first usage; Merriam-Webster, credit me!) has inherited the Spaghetti Western mantle.

That’s not to say all the films have been impressive, or, for that matter, worth three hours of my time. I’ll go ahead and say it: We all love Casey Affleck and Brad Pitt, but during screenings of The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, the snores in the theater drowned out the gunfire.

Then again, it wasn’t shot in New Mexico. Nor was There Will Be Blood, though it was widely reported to have been filmed in Albuquerque. I’ll go out on a limb, again, with three words that come to mind: overrated, disappointing and underdeveloped. If you read my author’s bio, you’ll see that director PT Anderson’s previous film Magnolia is at the top of my list of influences. Boogie Nights and Hard Eight are also films that I can watch time and time again. They’re noteworthy in the literal sense of term; I feel like I’m learning something and that if I don’t write down the elements, I’ll never really understand the beauty of modern filmmaking. TWBB, though, was just another episode in the Daniel Day-Lewis show, with the actor paired up with cut-rate actors. Lewis does his intensity thing and everyone else is drowned out. Other than the magnificence of the historical oil-drilling set pieces, there wasn’t much to ooh and aah about.

That might be too hard on the film. More than anything, it suffered from following a series of absolutely brilliant films, foremostly Film.com’s readers’ pick, No Country for Old Men (which was not only filmed in New Mexico, despite being set in West Texas, but the author, Cormac McCarthy lives there too). Then consider the remake of 3:10 to Yuma, with Christian Bale and Russell Crowe shining like sheriff’s badges, and you realize that Daniel Day-Lewis just ain’t that impressive.

I want to wrap this up with what, in my opinion, is both the best and the most ignored of all the Green Chile Westerns: 2006′s Seraphim Falls. Here you had a film that starred two Irishmen (Pierce Brosnan and Liam Neeson) in a cat and mouse game across the untamed southwestern frontier. It’s the best film about survival and persistence since Deliverance, a better handling of guilt and revenge than Sweeney Todd, and, though in the style of Leone, it breaks from convention at the end and gets downright metaphysical with Anjelica Huston appearing in the desert as the devil.

Yet, the only honor it earned was the “Gotham Break-Out Director” award. And that, buckaroo, really chaps my hide.