novoten

I was seven and there was a blonde diva running around on the screen, who grew up in the jungle from an early age, could summon animals, and eventually fell in love with a guy from the city. You couldn't hope to find a more B-movie 80s theme, but I still get shivers down my spine during the final chase in the desert...

Though Martin Scorsese had never dabbled in the genre of sad romance, either before or since, he did a great job with this period piece. The dialogue between the main trio is both painful and uplifting, and if it wasn't for the slow pace, which is a bit too generous, this drifting ship would have sailed even further.

My clear favorite from Martin Scorsese – the charming Sam, the persistent Nicky, and the hysterical Ginger in an epic that humbles many gangster classics. The sinful and money-clinking atmosphere of Vegas soaks up every last cent.

An unnecessary movie that was supposed to be the pinnacle of the series, but instead brings shame upon it. Most of the plot takes place in a Scottish castle where the humor and originality have disappeared. The repeated embarrassments with the camera and the corpse speak for themselves.

Warm-up exercises with a shallow and convoluted storyline, unnecessary flashbacks, and irritating simplicity. The main characters lack a single thing that would make them worth identifying with, and I never want to see them again. This "hour of fear" from Jan Němec is more like an hour wasted, and the lauded Diamonds of the Night is nothing but incomprehensible emptiness.

A provocative statement with amazing ideas (the anthem), embellished dialogue (Star Wars), and unfortunately a bit of a contrived ending. Nevertheless, it leaves an extra pleasant and free-thinking impression.

An untouchable aura that surprisingly does damage. Although John Travolta is irresistible and Bruce Willis flawless, the glory of the most cultish cult bothered me to such an extent that I probably won't be able to enjoy Pulp Fiction without some biases. A weaker four stars and the need for another viewing.

Roland Emmerich bursts the floodgates with pathos. Bill Pullman is completely off with his heroic president, Will Smith is embarrassing, Jeff Goldblum might as well not have been there at all – and this is all just a minor, overrated mishap. This variation on War of the Worlds didn't work out and despite the gripping scene of the destruction of the White House, I have an aversion towards this film.

A perfectly dark atmosphere that can only be maintained until the evidence starts to emerge. Jean Reno and Vincent Cassel are great on their own, but even the chase with the killer through the apartment really tests your nerves. And yet as it starts to incorporate all the mystery elements everything starts to creak and groain, and after the snowy finale you end up with a bitter taste in your mouth.

A parody that didn't work out. It doesn't offend, discourage, but it doesn't make you laugh either. Just a couple of jokes, a few references, and the rest of the running time is just tired and worn out, and after a while it plagiarizes rather than mocks zombie films. And such a problematic genre offers us hundreds of targets for jokes.