POMO

This film’s distant feel and coldness are not very pleasing in the course of watching it, but in the climax, those attributes are brought into harmony with the dark theme of emotionally dead and spiritually dishevelled family relationships. Miss Violence is an unpleasant work that you won’t be able to get out of your head. The psycho expressions on the actors’ faces add more to it than the weak dialogue.

Joy Ride is a teen version of Duel. It is both suspenseful and illogical, with decent plot twists and improbable shortcuts. However, it’s rescued by its clever climax. Abrams was already “paying tribute” to Spielberg a decade before Super 8.

Ava is the first star-studded Hollywood movie to be released since lockdown and it is extraordinarily bad. Few films of such low quality make it to cinemas, ending up being branded as the biggest fuck-ups of the year. Did the actors even read the screenplay before saying yes to this? Malkovich is the only one who maintains his dignity here, as his character is the only one that makes sense. The role reserved for Common is a bad joke (when we recall how he turned in a good performance in, for example, the genre-related John Wick 2). Farrell’s main villain – a ruthless killer with zero characterization – doesn’t fit in at all either, and Geena Davis’s overly botoxed mother character could have elicited sympathy if the screenplay had allowed her to do so. But the whole sad family storyline with the problematic daughter played by Jessica Chastain is completely unworkable and only delays the secret-agent brawls and shootouts, which of course are nothing to write home about either, as they only add action to the most hackneyed secret-agent motif possible, i.e. the elimination of one member of a team of hired assassins. But what really cuts this film off at the knees is Jessica’s character, who has not a single likable character trait worthy of compassion or any reasonable motivations for the past decisions that she now regrets as she attempts to find her way back to her family. It’s as if she is supposed to be some sort of pop-culture anti-heroine whom we are supposed to root for due to the fact that she fucks up both everything she touches and everything she avoids. There is nothing good about this film.

Hold on, this movie actually has its charms. It’s slow, the actors are a bit theatrical and it can be reproached for its naïveté, but this kind of endearing naïveté makes the given type of film a pleasing guilty pleasure. Primarily, however, the subject itself is engaging (if you have at least a bit of curious pervert in you) and its characters are sufficiently diverse for satisfying intrigues to play out between them. This movie has everything – self-confidently liberal lesbianism, a charming count who sincerely loves and courts his sweetheart like in the golden age of Hollywood, a wanton horny MILF whose pleasure from a fling with an unknown fisherman is a joy to see, and the mysterious domestic staff of a castle on an island where everyone gets individual experiences – romantic, sexual and lethal. Desire and pleasure must be punished, after all! It’s not bloody, oversaturated with eroticism or even suspenseful, but it’s still good to watch. Rizzo tells the story in a subtle or even noble way, and – like his characters – he enjoys it. As early as in the opening scene of their meeting in the theatre, his creative qualities of traditional, “classicist” filmmaking parameters are obvious in the camerawork and editing. The casual viewer may not even watch it to the end, but for me this is an interesting case study of distinctive trash film culture.

Anna is the best European mainstream spy flick since Skyfall. It is stylishly filmed, with a constantly surprising screenplay focusing not only on the action, but also on the characters. It is also well cast and wonderfully balanced politically (CIA vs. KGB). The choreography of the fight scenes, chases and shootouts is precise. Sexually passionate (Anna with men), emotionally tender (Anna with her lesbian girlfriend), seductively promiscuous through and through and as relationally treacherous as the whole dark world of secret agents. As far as spy thrillers go, I maximally enjoyed everything about this film, plus it surprised me with its clever humor and original interpretation of traditional genre motifs. Besson has a peace-loving European heart and is still a great filmmaker!

Wheelman is a solid adrenaline-fuelled flick with the robust sound of raging BMWs and Porsches, sharpshooting and a gang of thugs who aren’t seen much, though the main (good) thug gets himself in a bind on a properly stressful night-time ride. Though Wheelman is simpler and more straightforward than the psychological Locke and the arty Drive, it is still satisfyingly engrossing for an action movie that takes place almost entirely inside a car. Its visual distinctiveness and better immersion in the main character’s situation are supported by the cameras shooting exclusively inside the car or on its hood while driving from place to place.

Swept Away would have had a more powerful ending if everything that came before it had worked at least at the standard level of romantic relationship movies. The wacky Greek/Italian comedy approach is refreshing, but the characters and their behavior... and their portrayals by the actors (and a non-actress) are like a form of punishment. With respect to the genre, Ritchie’s directing is so loose and careless or incompetent (you can choose; we’ll know the truth only if he tries to make another romantic movie, which hopefully will never happen) that it’s impossible to connect with the characters, to believe anything about them, to feel anything for them or at least to not see them as annoying clowns. Inserting the beautiful orchestral piece “Spiegel am Spiegel”, especially in the aforementioned ending, is a futile attempt to give the film a romantic soul.

If Charlize would kiss the pharmacist who treats her shoulder, this movie’s circle of bizarreness would be closed. The Old Guard is an odd mix of Bram Stoker’s existential motifs, almost parodically overwrought racial, gender and LGBT correctness, and every possible cliché of the action and sci-fi genres, all with excessive focus on the emotions and motivations of the characters, which is sometimes effective and sometimes silly. However, the result is still better and more cohesive than another recent Netflix team/buddy flick…you know, that one by Bay.

Set aboard a ship in the Atlantic, this medium-length war movie is kept afloat by Hanks’s personality. There is practically no development of the characters and the war situations and maneuvers carried out within them are not exactly clear, but the movie still manages to keep up the suspense and reminds you how hellish it must have been to there – no sleeping, no eating and making decisions very quickly and intuitively. That’s what Greyhound is all about. Pathos, yes, but subtle pathos. The film’s runtime and content are insufficient for the cinema, but a VOD release is ideal.

This lovingly made film works with painted images, carefully directed voices of the actors and Mansell’s characteristically deep music eliciting a sense of fatefulness. Loving Vincent has the framework of a detective story with a gripping mystery and misleading questions, varied with the diverse characters whom the protagonist meets and made beautiful with poetic thoughts from the letters that van Gogh wrote before his death. The heart of the film comprises van Gogh’s life itself, his outsider existence tormented by self-doubt. His was an existence with exceptional perception of life and the ability to transform the positive face of his soul into works of art. His intimately dramatic story as a now celebrated artist is particularly attractive for viewers generally, and not only for people who feel misunderstood and naturally long for recognition and wider acceptance. The film concludes beautifully with the song “Starry Starry Night” performed by singer Lianne La Havas.