POMO

The best thing would be not to praise this film and not to raise great expectations... The key asset of Edge of Tomorrow, after all, is not its grandiosity or action, as we would expect. Rather, Edge of Tomorrow is great thanks to its script, which is the most imaginative among blockbusters in a very, very long time. And thanks to its director (I bow down before him). In terms of entertainment value, dynamics and working with the viewer, the film practically has no faults and succeeds on every levels. From the balance of seriousness and humor in the perception of the (visually appealing) postapocalyptic world, through the retention of the audience’s attention by mean of an unpredictable plot that will glue you to your seat with its speed, all the way to the likable characters to whom you can relate, which you don’t see that much in blockbusters. Tom Cruise is just great, the character played by Emily Blunt is impossible not to fall in love with and the chemistry between them works without a hint of a romantic kitsch. Edge of Tomorrow is for playful post-apocalyptic sci-fi action movies what Children of Men is for thoughtful post-apocalyptic sci-fi dramas.

Godzilla is a movie that sticks to safe clichés, is appropriate for all audiences and is not surprising surprise, but at least it holds together (Pacific Rim was bolder and cooler, but its plot didn’t work). Unlike Roland Emmerich’s version, it also honors the rules of the Japanese cult classic and, with Hollywood’s technical capabilities, allows the Japanese to enjoy their beloved monster as they have never seen it before. Though played by award-winning actors rarely seen in blockbusters, the characters are secondary, as the most important thing here is overall epicness and atmospheric visuals in the spirit of Steven Spielberg’s adventure movies. Spielberg is also referenced in specific scenes, such as the initial helicopter flight to the island and repeated placement of children in every exciting action scene. Watching it today, I feel satisfied; five years ago, I might even have been enthusiastic.

Finsterworld is made up of separate stories about the relationship woes of people who reveal the hidden kinks of their partners, plus one on the topic of guilt and false accusations. And somehow these stories intersect in a place that you would least expect. Seeing this as a festival film was okay, but in the company of Michael Haneke or Alejandro G. Inárritu, it seems lacking. It contains only one really good scene (with witty dialogue in the car about the pros and cons of the German character), the storylines are not particularly well thought out and the characters with kinks are not portrayed “cutely” enough for us to sympathize with them.

Another Luc Besson chill-out movie that places an American hero in Paris, this time in a crazy, fast-paced mix of comedy and a spy action flick promoting family values. The actors keep the movie afloat, especially Kevin Costner, who is again so charismatic that you will accept the ridiculous, over-the-top script and just let yourself be entertained. You will hang around for the film’s handful of great catchphrases, which often reference the real-life Costner (and his cowboy image), for two handfuls of slain bad guys, two of which are perfect fits for their roles, and the lascivious Amber Heard in outfits that will turn you on more than two hours sitting at the edge of the stage in a strip club. “Sorry, but you’re not my type” – “I’m everybody’s type!” Too bad she has so little screen time. Some of Besson’s scripts are not so great but this is definitely one of the better ones, and McG grasped it from the right angle.

How to rate a film that is visually beautiful, technically well-crafted and boosted by Hans Zimmer’s music, but its content is just so incredibly boring? After all, even animated movies for kids have more imaginative and fresher scripts that meet the kids’ parents halfway. Given that The Amazing Spider-Man 2 follows a long line of comic book blockbusters, the feebleness of its plot is unacceptable. Half of the film is filled with a romantic storyline, the monotony and clichéd nature of which leave the audience speechless, while the other half consists of skirmishes with bad guys that would look overused and dull already in the second instalment of Sam Raimi’s trilogy. Zero development, no winking at the viewer, nothing. Without any juice or a hint of creativity. Stale water boiled twenty times over. Nobody can make me watch the next episode; I’m quite done with Spidey.

We haven’t seen anything like this in a long time. This movie could’ve been saved by a single thing – if it suddenly turned black-and-white and Johnny Depp appeared before Rebecca Hall wearing an angora sweater. After the premiere, I heard three girls of about eight gushing about how they’d write on their blogs that they’ve been to the new Johnny Depp flick and how great it was. So don’t hang your head and go watch this. After all, it’s executive produced by Christopher Nolan, so what more could you possibly desire?

The screenplay, camerawork, directing and visual effects are all done by a single creator, a feature-film first-timer no less, and with a budget of USD 800,000. Anyone who rates this film as below average should see something from the Asylum. Sharknado cost USD 200,000 more. Surprisingly, given how few actual monsters we see in the film, it can keep the audience’s curiosity going, as we never quite know what’s going to happen next. Which didn’t happen to me even once while watching the three-hour long Avatar, which cost 300 million dollars to make. All Monsters needs to achieve this feat is a few dozen “Infected Zone” signs, exotic locations and the skills of its director. The central, relatively unknown and all the more natural acting duo does not spoil or save anything, as the whole film is based on atmosphere and mystery. And it works. Warner Bros. know what they’re doing. The rushed ending is the only reason I am not giving the film a fourth star.

Ciarán Hinds was given a well-deserved lead role, but unfortunately by first-time director who doesn’t know how to see the filmed subject through the eyes of the viewer. The film’s plot is full holes and just doesn’t work. It does not want to answer the basic questions on which it is built and the answers to which should comprise its essence. The only thing you’ll remember from this is Ciarán’s tormented character watching the ocean in long, melancholic shots that pretend to be deep.

If you want to visit a small, isolated lighthouse island where there is no shelter from a tyrannical dad and take a look into the cruel Nordic fates of his wife and children, The Disciple will deliver. Although the story is not original, it is well told and the atmosphere of the island is compelling.

A dusty black-and-white, bitter-comic look at contemporary Berlin in the shadow of Germany’s grim history, and one slacking young man without a future. He meets a few people (old and new friends), talks and repeatedly (and unsuccessfully) tries to order his dream coffee everywhere. The film has a few good moments and a good actor in the lead role, but overall it isn’t very entertaining, nor does it have any kind of message. And the jazz music in the background like in a Woody Allen movie doesn’t fit the mood at all. It’s an okay film for killing some time in an art-house cinema while waiting for the next Jim Jarmusch film to come out.