Isherwood

The great work with music and detailed camera want to let you know that this has something to do with an artistic generational statement, but that is not the case. The film is absolutely lacking in passion and a drop of drama. The transformation from a promising athlete to a porn star is rushed, and fatal injuries are presented as trivialities that don't really hurt. It lacks doubts about one's own dignity, a stronger clash with family values (the unused character of the father), and anything else that would make it interesting (besides the theme). It's like porn - it gets straight to the point, ticking off towards a predictable climax, but you catch yourself tending to skip over some passages.

At the school projection, this bored the kids a lot and many colleagues as well. But a few more perceptive individuals enjoyed it just like I did, meaning that skimming the surface accurately reflects the minds of individual actors when the director does not delve deep into any of them and in those ping-pong exchanges, he casually lets hidden traumas, pain, and hopes bubble up. According to the synopsis, I wanted to skip that hour, but in the end, I was surprised at how emotionally gripping it became.

Nolan is the Dr. Manhattan of contemporary Hollywood. And perhaps will be for another two decades at least. At the peak of his creative powers, he can afford a three-hour conversation colossus, which subjectively lasts a third less, because the level of precision of all creative components is on an absolute level. Actually, even the most coveted gold-plated statue is completely understandable. And yet something is missing. Perhaps a bit of personal passion in front of and behind the camera. Without hesitation, however, this is the only film by the director that I know I will probably never watch again. PS: Sex in the interrogation room is probably the biggest cringe moment in Nolan's filmography. No debate about it.

An experience after an experience. And also an internal redefinition of when it still makes sense to pay absurd amounts for sitting in front of a giant screen with a perfect audio set. The well-deserved praise is abundant, so perhaps just to the extent that compared to the first part, it may lack a certain lightness that seemed to stem from Denis Villeneuve's awareness of huge expectations, refusing to make the slightest wrong step. This paradoxically happens at the moment when to fit into a runtime of under three hours, and to keep the widest audience in theaters, especially in the last third, it is edited in a way that you completely feel those missing fragments (especially if you have read it) and mentally beg for another hour. But otherwise, it is all we fervently wished for two years. It is an absolute peak of Hollywood craftsmanship in the best possible form. It is a visual masterpiece and total overkill of cinematic sound design, to which Hans Zimmer's galactic chorales respectfully yielded. For the first time, I truly understood how people felt forty years ago when they were shown Star Wars in movie theaters.

A masterpiece! Even twenty years later. When the series premiered, "Medal of Honor" and "Call of Duty" were being played daily by players. But two decades have passed, and over time you gain some experience, learn a few things, and thanks to media coverage, the war is actually online on our phones, and suddenly we perceive the ten-hour colossus is completely differently. That senseless massacre in the Ardennes is no longer as cool, and neither are the torn bodies. Suddenly, there are ten mini-stories about one huge bit of determination, about real "ordinary men" who did "extraordinary things," which stands precisely on the edge of a celebratory ode and simple military pathos, never sliding into kitsch or pleasing flattery. HBO spent an extravagant budget for its time, which the creators pumped into the magnificent set design and huge cast, where mud and snow get under their nails. These small outbursts of humanity (particularly the medic's ordeal) only confirm the power of the storytelling. A genre benchmark and a series standard that continues to dominate in many aspects and leaves most competitors far behind.

An absolute comedic treasure that stomps most Czech film production into the grass with its high-heels. I don't particularly appreciate the football references (after all, I'm not really a fan of that sport), but the rest is a thoughtful play with cliches, which, in this case, means a wild ride and full throttle in every aspect. Of course, sometimes it misses the mark completely, but Štáfek and Kopp extracted the best from the first episodes of the series, avoided the tragedy of its ending, and in a mode of "everything more, louder and noisier," they serve up a wild and nonsensical gem, but they sing that ode to one primitive character with such grace and ease that I forgive them for a few errors. PS: Štáfek parked himself so magnificently in that role that I'll have trouble seeing him in anything else, but in dialogues with the junior from that role, he completely falls behind.

Rimmer may have traveled through Europe with the greatest general of all time and mowed down Belgians, but I suspect fraud in the movie theater admission fee that I decided to sacrifice despite the poor reviews. Visually, Scott still has it at eighty-six, and I caught myself thinking about who will shoot this once Ridley is gone. But there were more and more similar mental escapes from the movie, mostly into history class, where I struggled in vain to remember the reasons why defenders of the republic suddenly ended up with a royal crown on their heads, or when one dinner and one letter were enough to return from the Elba. The battles drew me in like nothing else. Damn the historical accuracy, because when the ice cracks at Slavkov, you go underwater with the stuntmen, while at Waterloo, you feel total despair and devastation that makes you physically sick. But instead of more military campaigns, and more of Napoleon's egoistically maniacal journey that tore Europe apart, we get completely senseless flirting with Josephine, and summarizing their relationship in letters would save screening time in favor of the aforementioned. The promised four-hour stream leaves me cold, partly because it's a deception against the viewer, and also because I probably don't have the strength to watch the cringe-worthy relationship of two people where one is enticed to sex by horny neighing while the other complains about freshly styled hair.

The echo of the 90s, sending postcards about villainous AI through a time machine, sometimes appears to have the upper hand over the audience, but do not be lulled by the admitted stupidity, because the running scout Cruise and McQuarrie send it uncompromisingly into the present. It's not about WHAT, but HOW. Seeing a film that layers action scenes with stunt attractions, as well as plot twists of "good guys vs. bad guys vs. (other) bad guys," is an absolute delight for the audience. If Fallout is an amusement park of action entertainment, Dead Reckoning is the top form of creative concentration. Venice may be an early peak, but the climax of the episode with the trains, when the appreciation of the second part of the game "Uncharted" is realized, ultimately closes it off as the peak of this year's popcorn entertainment and easily parks this part of the film series behind the unattainable Rogue Nation.

No family gathering can do without the tipsy uncle drinking a few shots and starting to tell stories. You know that sometimes he exaggerates a lot because you already know the stories from the past, given that they are a notorious part of the family canon, but you still can't resist and you keep listening. If he continued telling stories for a while longer, you would leave the table, but then you don't. The storytelling continues and it's incredible entertainment that has charm and lightness, and you just purr with delight. And even though you know where it's all heading, you're still tense and shaking your head at how everything could have turned out in the end. Then it ends and you are genuinely moved. And then you go rediscover the source from which it all began.

Someone filmed a series that was decided to be only a film in post-production. Actually, I'm a bit disappointed not to rate it higher because its crafty creative ambitions are easily justifiable on a European scale, but the development of the plot on multiple fronts only leads to a satisfying conclusion in one case (the marital dispute on the staircase, where the perception of the characters is completely turned around, is a screenplay gem, no debate about it), while each of the fronts deserved to be explored much more. Thus, it remains a cheap crime story from a dime-store detective novel, the building of capitalism on the scale of a newspaper article, and a counter-diversion action from a wet dream of a novice spy. However, the "modern" theme of the film holds up, a bit clumsily but effectively and sensitively, in retro attire. 3 and ½.