Isherwood

Joe Wright signed his soul over to the Hollywood devil, who sensed his talent across the ocean, and the result is an ordinary tale of an unordinary friendship whose potential (or real-life preview) promised much more. The problem was already on the page, from which clichés and calculations stick out of every letter, and the work of destruction is completed by Wright's poetic direction, which shoots absolute blanks in the case of one brilliant homeless man. The love for music and the neighbor in need is nowhere to be found, only the hunger for awards and the tangible ovation of a touching audience. If it weren't for the central cast's performance, I would have given the film a worse review.

A "Michael Mann film" with everything there is to love and hate about it. It's probably going to have a hard time getting through the movie theaters, judging by the reaction of the Johnny Depp fans sitting next to me when I was sitting in there, but it's a hot contender for the title of "film of the year."

It’s better and more spectacular in every way than the first film. In place of mindless visual gluttony are emotions, feelings, humanity, wit, insight, and real characters, where the good guys and the villains don't play at being soldiers, but rather only those who pursue political interests, framed by gestures of friendship and heroism. All this culminates in the final fiery inferno, where the flaming whip cracks. Thank you, John!

A megalomaniacal celebration of Chinese greatness and John Woo's return to honest filmmaking without compromise. Although the spectacular battle scenes are the main marketing draw, they are really not that amazing. The technically well-designed camera and editing of the fights actually only make us remember films like Troy or Kingdom of Heaven. Paradoxically, the director impressed me with the second third, which very sensitively, with an unmistakable old Chinese poetics, gives us a glimpse into the characters and a way to integrate with them. This also gives the final battle some meaning, unlike the one during the opening, in which I just saw thousands of Chinese men fighting each other in historical uniforms. Plot-wise, the confused first half is barely worth three stars, while the second deserves a better four. 3 ½.

The fact that Michael Bay, as a producer, is churning out one horror classic after another bothers me the least. What pisses me off the most is that he does so through a director who would not be trusted to film a German laundry detergent commercial. Nispel has absolutely no idea what the term "light" means, that there has to be at least one likable character among the characters, and that even if the clichés of slasher films are long worn out, it's good to respect the atmosphere, the genre rules, and most importantly, to have fun. He can do none of those things. He just routinely throws in one image of flowing blood after another, interspersed with the occasional shot of boobs and momentary flashes of hyperbole and thoughtful wit. I shuddered every time a glance at the clock reminded me of how much time was still left before it was over. But it is true that the kids were definitely huddled together in the movie theater.

Headache, watery stomach, vomiting, hitting kids, kids with tasers, erased memories, swearing, naked Asians, and photos! I have to go see it again to absorb all the jokes because I just couldn’t handle it the first time. You won't find anything more vulgar or funnier in the movie theater this year. Todd Phillips destroyed Kevin Smith in all his glory.

From the pictures in the gallery I suspected that this would be a proper "guilty pleasure," but the result exceeded my expectations quite significantly. Unpredictability is the film's main trump card. It’s not so much the plot itself, but rather what other stupidity the creators throw at you. And believe me, there’s a lot where that came from. From the "Himalayan realities" to the white furry thing who jumps like a lynx and does such crazy stuff that when he rips a guy in half, he starts hitting him in the screaming head with his thigh. It’s a hell of a lot more fun than I've had in a hell of a long time. Gentlemen of the Sci-Fi Channel, you have my sympathies. :)

Proyas has mastered the craft perfectly, but this skill is absolutely useless when he has to deal with a completely trivial script that drags the plot through the morass of the cheapest clichés. Then the director himself becomes a problem, as two pivotal scenes (by the way, letting them get on the internet was a major mistake) seem to have come out of a completely different film. Then there are the horror sequences, which perfectly battle with the cheap remainder of the film, overstuffed with warped family relationships and long-winded scientific theories. It’s a film that’s perfect in its individual parts, but as a whole, it’s... disappointing. PS:

Michael Bay has transformed himself into his own genre, where he has made his own rules that physics, logic, and even Spielberg himself cannot affect. On the other hand, no one else has such perfectly stitched visuals with slow-motion shots of the characters' hellishly serious faces, military formations, and the setting sun with heroic music blaring. It’s off the rails, without a drop of judgment and a sense of calm. And with the overblown runtime, it hits the viewer with the vigor of a little cheeky brat whose rich parents bought him a lot of toys from Hasbro and he doesn't know what to do with them out of mischief. So there are explosions everywhere and in between all this we have Shia and Megan, who just happen to look good again. I admit that I have probably never felt so awkward after leaving the movie theater for having actually liked this. But I don't want to see it a second time, not without the assistance of the big screen. PS: Even after a second viewing, it's still surprisingly entertaining. In a perversely demented way, but it's fun. :)

Tom Tykwer, clearly impressed by the recent "Bond films" and the "Bourne Trilogy," decided to make his own contribution to the theme of lone agents standing up to powerful multinational organizations, and the result is a very unconventional, yet impressive spectacle. Although the characters are in constant motion, the locations change and the plot moves along briskly. Tykwer's storytelling is surprisingly sparing, slightly distant (the almost fetishistic emphasis on modern architecture), and relatively slow-paced (except for the unique shootout, which is unparalleled). Yet, amazingly, it all works. After seeing a film like this, one can only get the impression that banks are the evil of this world - if one has forgotten that they caused the current economic crisis. :) PS: The reference to The Jackal pleased me. Power.