POMO

Turkish humor is naïve and, truth be told, not all that funny. Moreover, especially in the first half of the film, the creators throw in a lot of unnecessary scenes that slow down the already thin plot. On the other hand, they love colors (even in a shot of a guy lounging in a bathtub in a half-empty bathroom, there is something bright blue on one side of the tub and bright red on the other), they know how to cast and dress the characters (almost every character is likable and chic and their clothes not only perfectly match their personalities but also visually complement the environment), move the camera and edit. All of this, served with typical kindness and cordiality, is somehow enough for a pleasant chill-out or “the ultimate feel-good movie”. And those girls... PERFECTION.

Spectacular, witty and fast action fun, in which there is not enough space for characters and ideas.

I’m rating this in the context of Friday the 13th, My Bloody Valentine and suchlike, because we’re speaking about the same target audience. And compared to those movies, The Last House on the Left is finally a proper brutal horror flick in which there are no annoying, GPS-dependent adolescents running around, waiting to be mutilated by another supercool masked immortal murderer. You either feel sorry for the massacred victims or you WANT to see them lying on the ground in a pool of their own blood. The emotions work and the acting performances are more than sufficient. If the film went deeper (the ethical question of the right to kill the murderer of your child with your own hands), it could have of course been something different and more valuable. But we’ve got Michael Haneke for that, not Wes Craven. Moreover, the original film also didn’t go deep, merely remaining an exploitation shocker.

This thriller has an interesting atmosphere and a slow, creeping pace, spiced up with blood and brutality. But it is fatally dragged down by unsuitable action visuals and especially the ostentatiously cheap effects used for the murders. I might have tolerated this if it was an experimental B-movie by film-school students who don’t know where their talent lies or what genre they’re working in, unnecessarily relying on superficial pop-cultural showiness just to be “in”.

After the first hour, Angels & Demons becomes repetitive and the audience loses interest in the detective storyline, no matter how dynamic it may be. More ideas wouldn’t be unwelcome. The impressive climax, however, salvages a lot. And the work with the actors (and their hairstyles) is definitely better than in The Da Vinci Code. What fascinates me the most about this “saga” is that for all its straight-facedness, first-class filmmaking team, solid actors and controversial topics, it is unable to be anything but a simple-minded blockbuster for the masses. The masses that are unaware that 50% of their experience is provided by a guy named Hans Zimmer.

Jackie Chan no longer performs any acrobatics like in his younger days, but as a clever producer, he compensates for that with perfect action scenes that make the most out of Hong Kong’s skyscrapers and the exteriors and interiors of locations in general. These Hong Kong skyscrapers are actually a fetish of this city and its inhabitants (and in the case of the beautiful shape of Bank of China, also my personal fetish). Plus a high-tech feeling and the old chaps being threatened by a new generation that was raised on PC games. Police Story of the new millennium, which definitely doesn’t disgrace the series.

Juno doesn’t grow on the viewer thanks to its plot, but thanks rather to the lightness and earnestness with which its plot is delivered. And the likability of its protagonists. Ellen Page is fantastic.

It is enough to say that the end credits start with a self-excusatory note: “A Film by CAST, CREW and FRIENDS”.

How is it that in just a few moments of a single movie, Kevin Smith strikes the romantic chord in our hearts stronger than all of the Julia Robertses and Meg Ryans put together? And despite these moments being surrounded by jokes relating to blowjobs and cunnilingus? Kevin Smith is a light in the darkness of Hollywood artificiality.

The first half an hour of Wolverine is very promising, with its spectacular action, very nice work with mountain locations, a likable Hugh Jackman, a believable relationship with a hot girl, cool catchphrases (“I’m Canadian”) and Liev Schreiber’s badass super villain (he’ll have to fight off offers to play more villains with a stick). Wolverine starts off as a tastefully balanced mix of dynamic action and pleasant family adventure with some romance thrown in for a good measure... That’s why it’s a pity that the talented Gavin Hood must gradually submit to more and more stupid screenplay twists, which want to astonish the action-craving audience at any cost. The movie thus ends up being something between Doom and X-Men: The Last Stand. I’m neither angry nor disappointed, as this was to be expected already from the trailer. I’m just saying it’s a pity. These characters and the hard-working actors playing them deserve something more clever. Something like Bryan Singer.