Piiat

Yeah, this is the kind of politically correct, high-minded Oscar safe bet where pretty much all the black characters can be compared to the greatest philosophers in history thanks to their human (popular) wisdom, but I can’t help it, I really liked it. In its 146 minutes, it has charm, is entertaining, and has good performances, direction and script. It was nice, but at the Oscars I will root for someone else. (02.12.2011)

The Czech title is a diagnosis. Exactly: a black-and-white world, to the extent that if one wanted to nag, one could write something about political correctness shifting to inverted racism: white women are stupid, superficial, incapable of emotional and practical life. The black servants resemble a kind of super-ego - wise, kind, contemplative, parental, holding all the functions that their social "superiors" lack. It is also interesting in that those who are not "racists" in the film - aside from the main heroine - they are characters who are either enormously stupid (Celia) or sick (old Holbrooke), or absent (men, probably... some of them). Clearly, it is not the creative intent that Tate Taylor pursued godly goals, but as history teaches us - black-and-white worlds sometimes inadvertently subvert themselves, too much for clarity (see my favorite social realism). Black and white worlds also require a very conservative form, settled characters and a very limited ability to reflect on problems. This film does not reflect the essence of racism, but rather the simplified effort of the current "white" civilization to name old wrongs in a cultured way. There is no doubt that if this phenomenon were simplified to the level portrayed in Taylor's film, it would have been resolved long ago. But I take The Help as it is: at its core, a pleasant, cultivated tale of the battle between good and evil, surrounded by something from the grandeur of our grandmothers' wisdom and arthritic sentiment. Thanks to the episode with shit, the effort for a little rougher moments and a quite pleasant pace, I give it a star more than the whiny sentimental The Descendants. At their core, however, these are completely identical types of films. Designed for self-redeeming emotion and numb forgetfulness. A cultural symptom. (23.01.2012)

Despite the fact that Skeeter's story openly appeals to emotions through its narrative, soundtrack, and gradually revealed small details, I am surprised by how straightforward it actually is. There is no hiding of the main theme within various subplots, no treading water. From the first significant scene, it delivers a clear message at a higher speed and easily maintains it for over two hours. Thanks to this, the triple catharsis feels even more impactful. Perhaps if there had been a more definitive, slightly more fateful conclusion, I would have been completely satisfied. In that case, I felt that I could have handled an additional five minutes of voiceover in a slightly distant future during the end credits. Nevertheless, The Help has won me over not only with its storytelling power but also with its flawless casting, even in the smallest roles. (21.01.2012)

I am sorry that in a country of my origin we do not know how to make such beautiful films about our past. The formal side of textbook-perfect Hollywood filmmaking is merely a means of telling a curious story which, especially today, with Barack Obama on the American throne, is of enormous importance and historical value. Perfectly cast, costumed and directed actors – basically every character and performance is absolutely excellent, without the need to scream and dramatize or depress the audience. Or to try to look particularly profound, as The Help is inherently profound thanks to its story. It is also amazing due to its subtle delivery. I went to the theatre more out of duty than genuine interest, expecting to see another “Oscar-winning template full of hysterical women and racial issues that don’t concern me” and instead got the nicest movie experience of the past year. There wasn’t a dry eye in the cinema. (26.01.2012)

Kind in a black and white way and a little too obtrusive female drama that is occasionally ridiculously naive (there are three types of character; a cheerful black lady with a troubled past endowed with common sense, an affected xenophobic, upper-class white lady and men who we don’t see or, when we eventually do, then they invariably run away from their problems). It rides on the harmless, tearjerker wave, but never delves beneath the surface... We only take a look there in the opening scene and that is by far the best moment in the movie. (21.11.2011)