Lima

I would never cast young Washington in a leading role again, his acting bad (and I'm taking off one star for that). Otherwise I found this film terribly rich, both visually and emotionally. Gareth Edwards takes us through several locations with a succession of gorgeous images, whether it's a city with dozens of glowing neon signs like in Blade Runner, an Asian landscape where ancient Buddhist culture clashes interestingly with modern sci-fi elements, or the Nomad super spacecraft that Kosinski seems to have invented for Oblivion. I was especially impressed with Asia and how thoughtfully and seamlessly the modern architecture builds on the old buildings, creating such an interesting contrast, and the viewer immersion is incredible. I'm not a fan of AI, but I still didn't mind that Edwards relativizes it and actually puts it in the position of a positive element, just like Blade Runner did 40 years ago, the story thus gets a charge that kept my attention throughout and the few logical lapses didn't ruin it for me. Unfortunately, Edwards is a misunderstood filmmaker. Whether it is with Godzilla, which was a clever homage to the TOHO's films, or here, with the heavy-duty sci-fi that isn't being made much these days. I can only be comforted by the fact that Blade Runner was also critically panned and rejected by audiences in its day, so .... maybe it'll come out in a few decades too, Gareth.

Considering that this at its core it is a long, slightly intrusive commercial for a Sony product, it's very good. Although it didn't cost much, it manages to disguise itself thanks to Blomkamp's skill and looks like a substantial piece. The racing scenes have verve, they have fantastic sound design, and the editor gives a superhuman performance during them. The scenes that don't involve racing also manage to grab you by the heart thanks to the acting. Leaving aside Orlando Bloom, who looks like the witch from Hansel and Gretel with that impossible haircut and scowling expression, you can believe the former Spice Girl Geri Halliwell and her maternal feelings (very unexpected casting), Hounsou is fine and his tearful reaction when meeting his son is a very nice scene. Harbour makes a poem out of his mentor role (and I like his old-school penchant for walkmans and Black Sabbath), but I’m especially surprised by the unknown Archie Madekwe, the boy does a great job. I wouldn't have expected to be so invested in a gamer story, but it happened. Blomkamp is like a magician who can pull golden rabbits out of a hat for little money. PS: I was looking forward to seeing the basic idea of the film "video game gamer turned professional racer" being fucked up as nonsensical, only to have the final photo collage slap me in the face and knock my jaw off. I really had no idea.

In the future, on a repeat, I'll always prefer Lester's Musketeers anyway, because it has enough juicy popcorn to feed all of Nigeria, it doesn't skimp on the humour (which is almost absent in this French version) and the vivacious Michael York is like the finest wine as D'Artagnan. On the other hand, I like this French unpolished concept. Especially the magnificent production design! Muddy, unpaved, sandy streets, men sweaty and dirty (and with yellow teeth ), when, as we know, hygiene was a priority in the 17th century, even among the high classes, and the camera with muted colours adds a lot to that realistic impression. And what can we say, cherchez la femme Eva Green is after all a sexier milady than Faye Dunaway. So actually, when I sum up the comparison, I come out with a tie, and that's not a bad mark at all.

Perhaps Fincher's most meditative film to date, the music calmly throbs throughout, like Fassbender's assassin at the beginning, patiently waiting for his shot, mindful of his heartbeat and, like almost the entire film, going nowhere, repeating to himself with obsessive care, "Stick to the plan.... don't improvise." And that's exactly what Fincher does, thoughtfully, with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker, layering one carefully composed scene after another, and seemingly, unwittingly, imprinting himself on Fassbender's character as well. Early on, after a botched murder, the man in question thinks "Fuck, this is the first time" and I could see Fincher having similar thoughts flying through his head after the mixed reception of Mank. And it's as if they were both chasing perfection, where failure is unforgivable. Something was missing in the rating and Fincher was not to blame. Perhaps I was expecting something more thought-provoking from Walker's script (8MM remains unbeaten), perhaps a better ending and not the shallow point at the end, including the few idyllic shots that are really flat. Anyway, precise Fincher ..... precise Fincher is back!, just the way we like it. Only that Andrew K. Walker guy picked a weaker moment.

A tad better than the first one. It's beautiful to look at, the production design is more than decent, it has some great ideas (the turning pages of the magazines). Unfortunately, Chaves can't give any juice to the horror moments, they are pretty routine and with rare exceptions, even the scares don't work. But it didn't offend me with its stupidity like the previous one, though the tense final 20 minutes were pretty much on the verge of tipping into generic silliness. Vera Farmiga's sister is fun to watch, she has such an innocent fragility in her face, you can't act it, you have to have it in you, and she can act too.

A return to the days when I admired the natural acting style of Michel Piccoli and the beauty of Catherine Deneuve, unfortunately, in a controversial film. I was distracted by he chaotic editing, several nonsensical theatrical scenes and the music that overuses dragging strings, creating unpleasant discord. The highlight is a pair of bed sheet salesmen whose arrival on the scene looks like self-parody, and one of them, annoying to the max, behaves incomprehensibly like an overgrown child. In the last half hour, it degenerates into a bizarro, with the director chaotically pasting illogical scenes on top of each other. Denevue plays second fiddle here, her role commands her not to speak and to communicate only by writing on a blackboard, with no plot justification, which is odd. All in all, it manages to be surprising, and I'm still closer to this work than the current banalities, but I wouldn't hesitate to call it an arthouse wank. Agnés Varda is probably not my cup of tea.

European trash in its purest form. In the beginning, you'll be treated to unconcealed nudity, only to have zombie Nazis regularly crawling out of a lake, probing the surroundings with their claws and murdering women by sucking their blood. For a while, Jean Rollin flashbacks back to World War II and tries to do some serious mythology development, only to have lots of nudity and a bunch of zombies dumping screaming women into the lake again. There isn't even a shortage of feelies, what with the zombie dad visiting his daughter every time he comes out of the water, petting her and giving her presents. I felt bad for the little girl. She was the only one who was acting conscientiously, and she didn't fit into that world of adult perverts. Rollin even attempted some more ambitious with her character, and overall I got the impression that he took everything on camera at first glance and was completely resigned to what would come out of it. There are tears at the end, but I couldn't help being moved myself.

An idiot firmly attached to the Chinese titties full of giggles and with her head buried up to her ears in her ass. There are digital beasts running around in a colouring book backdrop, and it's probably meant to thrill you, scare you, or whatever. Yes, I was horrified by the idea that there are potentially viewers who experience suspense or entertainment at something like this, I'd rather stick my hand in the fishbowl and have my thumb chewed off by a moray eel instead. I like Statham's work, but if some no name Chinese guy took over his role here, nothing would happen. Jason, you're better off in Ritchie's stable, you're too good for this shit.

I watched it out of compulsion because I'm sick of comic book movies, and how can I say this, somehow I survived unscathed. Mostly surprisingly intimate, holding back, taking place mostly between interior walls in the space of a few rooms. It doesn't have any eye-candy moments that make it memorable, it's just the whole inoffensive definition of mediocrity. Jared Leto was okay, as long as he didn't just make himself look like a vampire thanks to the ugly CGI, he acted artfully and wasn't the weakest link. It just that unfortunately it has a ridiculously cringing Matt Smith, and it has Tyrese Gibson looking like he's expecting diarrhea at any moment the whole time. The final CGI fight, drowned in darkness, is forgotten within five minutes. Like the whole film, actually.

Russell Crowe, in his current chubby state, is already taking every stupid thing he can get his hands on. And yet, I liked the first half enough, as long as Russell is brimming with charisma and wit, and there's no shortage of some fine visual ideas. But as the minutes tick by, it gets sillier and more generic, and the final duel between the two priests, with bodies flying through the air, flames whipping and bloody women climbing out of iron maidens, looks like some kind of Mel Brooks parody. There's an art to fucking it up like that. Thanks for Franco Nero, I haven't seen him in anything in a long time.