Filmmaniak

If you know what to expect from Pálfi (e.g., if you have seen Taxidermia), Free Fall will not surprise you much. Seven bizarre stories take place in it, which, in a comedic-satirical way, point to pathological phenomena and scandals in human society, but only three of them are downright amusing. Most of them end with a weird point exactly in Pálfi's fantasy style, which may shock more sensitive viewers (especially female viewers), while for others it will be a trigger for laughter. However, you will forget half of those points as soon as you leave the cinema. The electronic music is great.

An extraordinary film - a clever metaphor of the life cycle and a charming story to boot (although it is a little too long). Both of the actors in the main roles are chosen in an absolutely exemplary way, and I would be able to watch them for a long time, even if they were just on a photo, for example. George Ovašhvili gets an incredible amount going in the minimal space that he has, although the story he tells is essentially minimalist (but for the protagonists of the film, it is the most important thing in the world). A beautiful camera and impressive (even intoxicating) directing artfully dosing the tempo, and the whole idea on which the film is built, make Corn Island one of my favorites for the main award of the International Film Festival Karlovy Vary (2014).

An independent film reflecting the soul of the lead actor, human existence, faith in God and the sleepy atmosphere of Memphis. There's not much singing in the film, or much going on. The tempo is sleepy/hypnotic, the camera is not particularly inventive and the only thing you will really appreciate are the authentic non-actors, who are sometimes really cool (especially in terms of how they express themselves). The best parts of the film are two or three stories with a philosophical idea, which are told in the film, among other things on the topic of "I made myself into the dirt" and "I found a knife stabbed in my chest" (which is not an exaggeration, in fact they really do have a deep message and they are fun). Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about the rest of the film. Luckily, it only has an 80 minute runtime.

A comedy about how they decided to make a statue of Michael Jackson (when he was still alive) in a Serbian village (which looks almost like a village in the Czech Republic). The plot, in which the main protagonist tries to come to terms with his crumbling relationship with his wife, is not nearly as interesting as the haggling about the planned monument, which gets going when the protagonists forge a letter from Michael Jackson to make it look like he is coming to Serbia for the unveiling ceremony. The comedy is pleasant, undemanding and consistently flowing, but the conclusion is far too pathetic.

Whoooa! This multi-genre manic movie was conjured up by a dog and a cat. The film has a great start and does not stop at all in the first half hour. Blood, humor, meta jokes, winking at movie fans, playing with genres, self-parody, action scenes... It ends with a more than twenty-minute-long sequence in which two mafia clans are fighting each together - limbs fly through the air, blood sprays in all directions, cocaine lies on the ground… All of this is filmed by stirred-up filmmakers on roller skates, laughing devilishly at it. The frantic pace is greatly hindered by the occasional attempts at serious passages which, due to their seriousness, do not fit with the crazy remainder of the film and feel rather awkward. Otherwise, thumbs up! Especially when you know what you're getting into, and if you're comfortable with brutally excessive Japanese-style madness.

The absence of a coherent story, the slow pace and mostly a completely static camera underline the minimalism and banality of the Moravian village and reflect the peace and sluggish lifestyle of its inhabitants. Miroslav Krobot managed to fully realize his clear vision, which proves his creative and directing skills. However, this vision is not all that amusing, as the successful capturing of the atmosphere of the remote corners of Jesenice through several fragments from the fate of quirky villagers is not enough for a feature film. Don't expect much comedy from it. It is a realistic view of the microworld of a village and at the same time an author's statement by Miroslav Krobot, who certainly did not embarrass himself with his first film. However, a degree of disappointment cannot be covered up.

A black-and-white film with a 4:3 aspect ratio that is a tribute to the cinematography of the 1960s (during which the plot of the film takes place), and the return of director Pawlikowski to Polish films. The story of a young novice (the phase before becoming a nun) who goes on an intimate road trip to see her aunt to discover the grave of her parents (during which she finds out who she is), is not very attractive and is quite predictable. On the other hand, the artistic side of the film is worth it. Ida is a modest and pure film that emphasizes the psychology of the characters and the aesthetics of the image. It is interesting upon the first viewing, but there is no reason to see it again.

The theme of the film is imaginative and original (yet simple). I like how the director decided not to follow the path of bloody butchery or annoying jump scares and instead shot a horror film in the traditional sense, which is scary due to its atmosphere and shots of a slowly approaching character. The film could have been even scarier and better if it had been at least a little intelligent! The characters in the film act like idiots and their attempts to kill the enemy are ridiculous (what did they want to achieve in that pool scene?). I wonder what would happen if they went to another continent? The premise of the film is excellent and extremely scary, but it does not guarantee exceptionally high-quality horror.

After the great Flower Buds, the degree of disappointment is almost palpable. The film has no plot and is just a series of scenes from concentration and labor camps, preceded by overexposed and naively-warm scenes from before the war, when everyone was happy and smiling and everything was optimistic and cheerful. There are about half a dozen Jews whose destinies we follow, but they have almost no exposition (it doesn't really suffice to slap a headline with a name and job description next to them) and the film alienates them by the fact that none of them say anything the entire time – except for shouting and singing, all of the dialogues and monologues take place exclusively through voiceovers. Just as a lexicon of Jewish artists is being printed at the beginning, Zdeněk Jiráský presents in his film a lexicon of all possible suffering that people have gone through in concentration camps, but he does so incredibly cheaply (there really is everything possible in the film, including a hangman, crying girls, the murder of a newborn, sad dog eyes...). In his persistent effort to squeeze a tear from the viewer, he fails on all fronts.

Compared to the director's previous film The Guard, in the drama called Calvary there is less humor, but comic elements can still be found if you have a sense of black humor and are at least a little cynical. Brendan Gleeson should quickly receive an award, because his performance in the lead role is excellent. The other actors don't lag far behind, as they have a lot to do - all of the characters are really well written and the film boasts a strong and carefully constructed story, clever dialogues with philosophical overlap and an intelligent screenplay that gets to the point. Which also applies to the director.