DaViD´82

A fair to middling relationship drama rudely grafted on to an ordinary and not particularly interesting episode that tries to prove that pedophilia is a virtue and that English is a beautiful language. Visually distinguishable from any other episode of the later series, but I have a weakness for snowy, Fargo-like backwaters, so that didn’t matter to me in the least. But Duchovny seemed like he didn’t know if he should act like good old Mulder or Hank Moody, and so he is neither. I’m not capable of objectively assessing Gillian’s performance, because I belong to the generation for whom The X-Files appeared on TV slap bang in the prime of my adolescence. Therefore her bosom and sex appeal are untouchable. Too bad that their “courting" scenes have completely disappears. Overall this is a boring affair about nothing that has a couple of excellent scenes (Scully visiting Connolly) and several lighter moments that work. Despite this, I didn’t leave the movie theater disappointed. Although I wasn’t totally satisfied either. Even so, I would welcome another, if possible higher quality, feature-length episode. Because the truth (and lots of God-chosen pedophiles) is still somewhere out there...

The descendants of William Wallace (aka Mel Gibson) and Mad Max (Gibson again, yuck, shame on you Mel!) in a version for 2035 dance a C-grade cancan at the Grindhouse club accompanied by the A-grade rhythm of “Známky punku" (Signs of Punk) by Czech punk band Visací zámek (Padlock). And I join in with Marshall and his crazed pogoing. I as keen as a little kid who’s going to meet Sponge Bob for the first time. The supposedly confused editing didn’t bother me (unlike The Descent) and so I would only fault the needlessly long foreplay to the crazy ride that starts at the precise moment when the first punk Mohawk appears. So don’t spit in this punk-rocker’s face, every movie appeals to somebody’s taste. And let’s hope Doomsday will appeal to enough people for Neil to attract some further projects to the future. It would be a shame to lose him, especially if he gave us more five-star sequences like the forty minutes from escaping from the platform through the adaptation of Twain’s Yankee from Connecticut to King Arthur’s court, all the way to the ending car chase in the Bentley.

This is Woody, but at the same time it isn’t Woody. It’s like something by some nastily cynical filmmaker who doesn’t have the best opinion about the current state of morality in Western society. This certainly is no regular Allen movie, but then again, I wouldn’t say that you can’t tell he made it. I’m not denying that I would rather have seen this on stage where imho it belongs, but then again I would be robbed of the opportunity of enjoying the traditionally great work of Philip Glass. But the music isn’t the best thing about this. The best thing is easily the central actor duo. Those two should act in something together again some time. Despite their different accents, they were convincing as brothers more than anybody else I’ve seen in recent times. So my fears that I would see more McGregor and Farrell than Ian and Terry were unfounded.

Really horrible. I know that it’s intentional, but unfortunately it isn’t funny. The only more promising moments are when they sing, when everything works as it should (primarily the intro and ending of episode two are quite perfect), but when they start speaking... How can I describe it? It’s hell. But still, only because Whedon was trying to do something original, I was bent on awarding it a positive score. But then came the last episode and my plan soon fell flat on its face. While in the episodes preceding it, you could see that they aren’t taking themselves seriously, pretending a great tragedy has occurred doesn’t work and comes across just dumb, more than anything else.

Season one 5/5: In spite of the “rather weak" first two episodes, this is the best Britcom of the nineties. Where else can you see nods to The Evil Dead, closely followed by Coppola’s Interview or a paraphrase of Beethoven the St. Bernard crossed with Don’t Look Now, all coming at you as quickly as a burst of automatic fire from a Kalashnikov? But the references aren’t at all important. They are just a sort of icing on the cake, nothing more. The Pegg and Wright gang have created their own type of humor peculiar just to them. Funny humor. Darn funny. Season two 3/5: But all this applies just to the “spontaneously playful" first season. The second season seems too calculated and fragmented. Even the references are suddenly rather superficial. There isn’t one storyline here, but each character has their own, quite independent from the others. It doesn’t start working until the very last episode. And that’s too late.

Three times excellent, three times good, three times barely average and twice unbearable. A disappointing record for a filmmaker of Jarmusch's stature. Unfortunately.

After this movie ended I felt like asking the projectionist if he could rewind it and play it again, but even without that I was basically pleased with the most normal Gondry yet. Maybe it isn’t perfect and flawless, but what really original picture ever is? I don’t pretend that I haven’t had an almost uncritical soft spot for this visionary since his beginnings with video clips. For one thing, you won’t find such a fount of ideas, originality and idiosyncrasy in any other filmmaker. But primarily I rate him for his talent at creating believable dream-reality. In my eyes this is the hardest discipline of all. And while a couple of writers are talented at this, apart from Michel Gondry himself, I think the only filmmaker with the same talent that occurs to me is Tsukamoto. But ouch, no such dream sequences come into this movie. That said, we find heaps of originality here. But in spite of that, after the magnificent intro, the greatest “attraction", i.e. the Sweded movies themselves, are a little creaky. This is the worst part of the movie. It doesn’t hold together, although some wonderful moments are to be found (mainly the short ones like The Lion King and Carrie). Paradoxically it starts working when they stop filming the “remakes" and their own creations start to come out on top. But I’m certainly not disappointed. Maybe also because, unlike many others, I didn’t expect a comedy in the true sense of the word. Not because Gondry couldn’t manage to pull something like that off, but for the simple reason that he didn’t promise anything of the sort. Not even the trailers contained any promise of a bundle of fun (btw, the Sweded trailer with Gondry himself is pure genius and is the most original trailer I have ever seen). And casting Jack Black doesn’t necessarily mean a comedy to make your sides split. So, to sum up: Please Gondry, keep being yourself, whatever the cost.

If the ratio of very funny moments (Ode to Joy!) to the downright embarrassing ones wasn't so balanced, I wouldn't hesitate with a higher rating.

If it weren’t for the ending in the secret room, my satisfaction would be almost boundless. Not because the finale in the attic is bad, but I didn’t think it fitted with what came before it at all. Simply the first hour seems out of place with the final fifteen minutes, and vice versa. But otherwise, everything is as it should be. Atmosphere cuttable by knife, ideas and ideal pace and it’s punchy and effective like an attack by Barça FC. I will definitely have to think hard about where to stay in Barcelona this time round. One thing I know for sure, I won’t stay in an old tenement block under any circumstances.

If the ratio of very funny moments (Ode to Joy!) to the downright embarrassing ones wasn't so balanced, I wouldn't hesitate with a higher rating.