DaViD´82

Taková normální rodinka (Just an Ordinary Family) has one hitch. And that’s the name, which logically makes the viewer expect a comedy. Which is perhaps the only genre that you can’t find anywhere in this family drama. From all points of view it is clean, uninteresting in any way, but for me personally surprisingly not futile and not embarrassing movie that looks like the cheapest ever TV movie. But I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it. I did, but not in a comedy way.

The first Bergman that lost me, absolutely, in terms of theme and, primarily, emotions. I wouldn’t expect that of all directors he would put a handicapped, unwanted daughter, an abortion, infidelity, the tragic death of a child and many other “cheaply powerful" artsy topics. Which might have worked even so, if this weren’t his most talkative picture. Or rather, empty waffling from the first to the last minute. While the same could have easily been intimated by silence, too. And as the only scene where we find some good old benign silence (yes, the one where they are sitting at the piano) is so much more powerful. The more I think about it, rather than the entire movie, the short passage devoted to this in Bergman’s “Magic Lantern". In terms of power and impact this couple of paragraphs is in a completely different class than the entire Autumn Sonata which in my eyes (and ears, due to the shouting) should have tried mopey autumnal melancholy instead of theatrical affect. Then I would have taken pity on it. Gladly.

A living classic set off to warm his bones under the Catalonian sun to make his old-man’s wet dream come true. And because he’s no jerk, he eagerly shares full screen footage of Scarlett’s nipples (*glurp*), Penelope’s butt (yum!), Rebecca’s thighs and Bardem’s five o’clock shadow (wowie) with the public... Oh but, no, no, that neurotic miser only shares the thighs and the five o’clock shadow. But really, in places it’s so hot that, despite it being the beginning of a damp and drizzly fall, I recommend you wear summer clothes when you watch this. This applies mainly for those who can boast chromosome Y in their genetic makeup. And how Bardem organizes his household is priceless. But it wouldn’t be a Woody Allen movie of past years without one big “but". A kind of nothing intro. It’s just too sleepy summer like. It requires María Elena to plunge in and save the movie. Personally I was also upset that the two best characters (Juan’s father and María Elena) are criminally kept in the background. Overall, no miracle to be penned into the master’s filmography in gold lettering, but excellent as relaxing summer entertainment.

An outstanding cast, a couple of side-splitting scenes, an excellent opening half hour and corners of the mouth lifting here and there for the rest of the movie. But what good is not taking itself seriously and spot on mockery of buddy action pictures when it backfires due to unnecessary length. Just a classic project from Apatow production studios. Cutting twenty minutes wouldn’t have done any good in the end. To make things better, it would need at least twice as much material on the cutting room floor. Including the action finale which is like out of a completely different movie. Which wouldn’t matter if it had been a good movie. But that wasn’t the case. Plus it’s d-r-a-w-n--o-u-t so much that it dethrones the Return of the King with its never-ending stream of endings. The Rogen, Franco and Robinson trio simply doesn’t have a chance to pull the Pineapple Express along, however hard they try. Clouds of marihuana smoke can’t hide everything. And not even smoking a “Christmas time" joint before switching on.

The Killing Fields is a movie where ambition simply oozes out of every frame. I’m not saying it’s bad. Especially when it’s in the hands of a director who knows how to avoid cheap sucking up to the Academy (although Lennon at the end was a step way over the mark). In the first half I couldn’t help asking myself why the story revolves round such an uninteresting, self-centered journalist when his gofer who he treats like shit is a hundred times more interesting. And luckily the filmmakers thought this too and in the second half they put him to the fore. And did well to do it in my eyes. Otherwise the scenes like developing photos in Spartan conditions, the video with Nixon’s speech and shots of the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge cut with Vincerò or lost in the killing fields are such powerful scenes that Roland Joffé has earned my greatest admiration. On the other hand, it doesn’t change the fact that I can see mistakes here. Which I can’t say about his next movie, however much I might want to.

A typical Italian sandal where, if you were looking for Leone’s usual genius, you would be disappointed. The characters are black and white, no historical faithfulness or logic! That’s completely missing. The Colossus of Rhodes doesn’t pretend to be anything more than what it can offer. In other words, an entertaining, historical “popcorn movie", although a lot longer than they tend to be. At least in the director’s cut. If it weren’t for that grinning Calhoun and occasional funny moments (no more underwear, please God), then my satisfaction with the first solo picture by my favorite director would have been a good deal greater.

Why did Truffaut make so few “Hitch-esque" movies? And why, when he did make one, in the second he had to grind it down to a study of an unusual relationship? Don’t get me wrong, both moods are Truffaut precise, it’s just that together then don’t hit it off in any respect. It’s like trying to stuff a beautiful round shape into a perfect triangle hole. In the end you might even get it in there, but it won’t result in perfect beauty however hard you try. It just won’t.

Overpopulated. While at least half of the characters are absolutely superfluous. They think they’re clever. But you can read them like a book at first glance. A star-studded cast. But Redford has no part to act and next to Newman and Shaw he clearly can’t keep up. Theatrical, obviously studio set, with errors of logic and who knows what else. And despite all of that, it’s entertaining with stylish ease that we don’t see much of today. Simply an Oscar-winning romp by a group of friends for the hell of it.

"German is rather coarse, but still it is one of the most significant languages in Europe. What do you think, Watson?" Well, I myself would agree with the detective with a big D. But look out, I shall diverge. The question is whether he would agree with me that the fifth movie (again in two parts) should never have been made. Not that it would shame the movie that came before, but it is superfluous and thanks to its tendency away from criminal matters to the service of his majesty is disappointing. At the same time it is atmospheric, to the point of horror, the prolog of part one is absolutely splendid. But, before we know it, we find that a case that was panning out nicely becomes just a search for one letter. Nothing else happens, everything is clear not only to the viewer, but to the characters too and so there is nothing else to do than natter away in three different rooms till the bitter end. Which lasts an unbelievable forty minutes. This story had it in itself to be the best, but instead it became definitely the worst part. The second story is much better, and the espionage is at least presented with a hint of a detective plot, but still this isn’t the real Holmes. It was nice to see the polite humor and also not to see Watson’s comic excesses. It wasn’t nice to see that Maslennikov’s Holmes bids farewell on just average form, which isn’t far from being boring.

My record is a pair of lakes in one go. Can anyone beat that? P.S.: I would like to recommend Benning literature about the fundaments of landscape composition, since his dogmatic “halves" irritated me reliably after just ten seconds. And more than eight thousand more were waiting for me. I soon gave up. I just don’t have the patience for this kind of thing, let alone the time. Thanks very little.