Ediebalboa

LaRoy, a backwater in Texas that smells slightly of the Coens, but don't look for the famous directing duo this time. Shane Atkinson comes through with a strong feature debut, where you can see the inspiration from other black-humor crime films, but his own voice doesn't waver in the process, as he holds his script firmly in hand. I found myself while watching it just waiting for the comedy-crime to get unleashed, only that nothing like that happens. There are no dead ends or dragging. On the contrary, there are elements of a novel buddy movie with an original neo-western ending. Maybe that's why this first feature was nodded by a bunch of quality actors who often only play sidekicks for Hollywood stars, but whose faces you remember damn well (Steve Zahn, John Magaro and especially Dylan Baker).

Who will take the throne? A toxic visionary, a small fry, daddy's little girl, or will daddy give up on his futile offspring for good and give his kingdom to a Norseman? Fortunately, right at the beginning of the season, the cards are shuffled perfectly, avoiding further etudes of endless scheming, which is not missing this time, but takes place in a completely different context than before. The characters have come a long way since the beginning. Some have wised up, some have learned the mythical art of "corporate slalom" and some have made the arduous journey only to realize that they simply cannot change. In short, the final season culminates deserving a proud alongside Breaking Bad in the category of best series endings of all time.

Third time’s the best. Rocket's origin, along with an emotionally drained Star-Lord and Gunn's most confident direction yet, brings the Guardians of the Galaxy to adulthood. Well, almost. In the more serious moments, the atmosphere thickens more than ever, but then another joke or the thirtieth song comes along. This exuberant gang stays true to themselves with all the good (mostly), but sometimes some of the bad too. This time, however, I was the least short of perfection.

Just as Netflix gave the series a great kick in Season 3, it has now cut it down with a vengeance. I would have liked a better fate for Uthred, but this battle seemed a bit of a lost cause from the start. Cramming the themes of 3 books into one less than two-hour film doesn't bode well and despite a few decent shortcuts, it shows at every turn. Like the first episode of the entire series (and one of the weakest), Uthred possesses a teleport that causes locations and emotions to change at the snap of a finger. So we say goodbye to some old heroes in a hurry, while others just manage to tell you: “I’m Anlaf, I will be bad“, which is not very dignified for the culmination of a multi-year saga. Uthred's "banishment" in particular is a complete mockery. As a fan, the only thing I appreciate is the Valhalla passage. For that alone, and for the passable final battle, I give this epilogue a final pardon.

In the final act of Parabellum, despite its undeniable qualities, I already felt a certain drag. This time it was the other way around. John Wick: Chapter 4 offers heaps of perfect, if slightly repetitive, fight scenes in the first half and only really stomps on the gas after the German intermezzo. The fireworks of bodies, the revenge of pets or unexpected problems like "You've been caught by a grumpy Latino - You have to go back five floors" bring in the real pain. The filler between the fights is at its peak thanks to a great ensemble for the franchise, including the enlightened hunk Bill Skarsgård, who even without the bloodthirsty clown mask you'll wish only the worst for him.

For me, the biggest surprise of this year’s season. A riveting spectacle that is ecstatically overblown, especially in its opening, but it's also bursting with ideas for the rest of its running time and really squeezes the most out of the material within the ossified "biopic" genre. And I'm not a fan of either Luhrmann or Elvis.

I may have watched the 13th Warrior too soon. Otherwise, I would have missed my most important banter motif of dragging knights across the floor, which would have been a huge shame for my parents. Jerry Goldsmith managed to successfully knock out all the Zimmers, Williamses and even the reigning Howard Shore with The Lord of the Rings. The film itself ended up several leagues worse, though, but even after all these years I don't have the feeling of downright frustration when watching it. Rather, it's just the shockingly untapped potential that, under different circumstances, could have led to the most epic Viking romp ever created.

With the thirties comes the best of what Babylon Berlin has brought us so far. Several scenes are truly memorable thanks to excellent editing. The creators weren't afraid to stretch the plot again, so it gets to the Nazis, gangsters, Jews, Jewish gangsters, journalists, communists, and malnourished kids from the Zoo station, and everything more or less builds to a conclusion where no threads remain unresolved. Tykwer and co. made a great job of this script during covid.

Obesity and bulimia are issues that have not been addressed much by Hollywood, so I applaud the fact that this substantial rarity does not downplay the issue, nor does it revel in it. By Aronofsky's standards, it is a fairly normal story that is unexpectedly friendly to the audience whose feelings he likes to play with. Towards the end, however, he mines emotions in an outrageous way, and as a result all previous believability is taken away. It's disappointing, but not enough to obscure the most important thing, Brendan Fraser is back at full force after all these years, and if anyone deserves countless accolades for this feat in the coming months, it's him.

The Gray Man proves that Netflix can have all the money they want, but they won't get rid of the syndrome of cheap disposable entertainment. What on earth were those crazy drone flyovers? Couldn’t the Russos afford proper equipment? And proper special effects? With their messed-up Bourne, they prove that maybe there really was more to oversight under Marvel than we had been made to believe. All we got here is an unintended B-movie, a film that lacks identity, suspense and the hallmark of an event. And so little would have been enough in this summer season...