Uudet arvostelut - Parhaat käyttäjät

The Polish continue their successful streak with Netflix, delivering another solid film. From a technical standpoint, there’s really not much to fault—it’s well-made and has plenty of entertainment value. However, the ratings don’t quite reflect that, and I think it’s partly because, after a series of high-quality Polish films, the bar has been set really high. Perhaps the filmmakers got a little too ambitious here. The story is a fictional one, but it’s set in a very real time period, referencing not just one athlete but an entire phenomenon of athletes fleeing from a communist regime to the West. The acting is top-notch, with Eryk Kulm and Eryk Lubos delivering brilliant performances, and Adrianna Chlebicka holding her own as well. But the fictional angle feels a bit odd, and the screenplay doesn’t offer many surprises—it’s a mix of things we’ve seen before. At nearly three hours long, the film can feel like it’s dragging, but it’s worth sticking it out—the ending is genuinely beautiful.

Tim Burton is finally off the leash again, and honestly, it was about time. Where better to let loose than with the world he first introduced us to, packed with his signature quirky ideas? And he absolutely delivers. A sequel more than 35 years later is a bold move, but as a fan of Burton’s work, I can confidently say it was worth the wait. The only drawback for me was the somewhat rushed script. It opens up a bunch of storylines, then scrambles to tie them all together for an epic, totally off-the-wall finale that feels very Burton-esque. But by the end, you realize some things didn’t quite need to be there, didn’t make much sense, or were just unnecessary. Case in point: Monica Bellucci. Let’s be real—there are obvious reasons why Burton included her, but she didn’t add much to the story. That said, I’m still satisfied. This is what filmmaking should be—full of creativity, fun, and humor, with a cast that’s clearly having a blast.

When you have to start a Tim Burton film several times to get through it, you know something’s off. I finally managed to finish Big Eyes, and to be fair, the story seemed tailor-made for Burton—personal, unique, and quirky. Casting Amy Adams and Christoph Waltz was a smart move too; they were solid in their roles. But everything else felt like Burton was making a TV movie. It lacked his usual creative flair, and the script seemed flat, almost like it was written by a beginner. It’s rare for me to watch a biopic and feel like I’ve seen it all before, but with Big Eyes, I couldn’t shake that feeling.

This one felt a bit too “now” for me—too focused on today’s youth and their issues, with dialogue that sometimes felt like it was written for a toddler. That said, Jeff Goldblum clearly had a blast playing Zeus, and I have to admit, the soundtrack is a real highlight. The music choices were spot on. But even with a great score, the show falters by taking liberties with history, blending and bending it in ways that feel forced. It tries really hard to be funny, but that's where it misses the mark the most.

Before watching the sequel, I had to revisit the original—it’s been years since I last saw Beetlejuice. And yes, it still holds up beautifully. Tim Burton proved he was a genius back then, and I’m glad he showed Hollywood what he was capable of with this film. The sheer creativity, both in animation and ideas, combined with humor and fun, is unmatched. I can't help but wonder—how many directors today can pull off something like this?

For a Scandinavian crime drama, Blackwater is surprisingly slow-paced. While it nails the period atmosphere, you can easily go twenty minutes in an hour-long episode where almost nothing happens. And when the plot does move, it’s often focused on the religious cult, which honestly feels like a storyline that begs for a wake-up call. It’s intriguing in parts, but compared to other Scandinavian thrillers, this one drags a lot more than I expected.

It’s worth thinking about how many movies Hollywood cranked out in the 80s and how many of them were actually hits. I wonder if the ratio was as lopsided as it feels with today’s blockbusters. Nowadays, it seems like studios are greenlighting scripts that a producer 20 years ago wouldn’t even glance at. We’ve got dumb plots mixed with cringeworthy moments, all dressed up in a heavy dose of CGI to make it look flashy. But hey, slap a big franchise name on it, and it’ll sell, right? Godzilla x Kong is just another one of those mindless blockbusters that would’ve gone straight to VHS back in the day.

I went into this expecting a bit of déjà vu, maybe a nod to Nicole Kidman’s Big Little Lies days. But it turns out, even a talented cast and capable direction can’t guarantee a quality film if the foundation isn’t there. The setting—a world of multimillionaires and their detached behavior—just felt off, like a pure distillation of everything you’d want to root against. The result? An unlimited supply of boredom, making The Perfect Couple a painfully average drama.

Sharp humor and genuinely sad situations polarized to the extreme. Alan is going through another divorce, Charlie is somewhere between the bedroom and the bathroom, and Herb is getting married... but the best jokes, as usual, come from Berta, Evelyn, and Kandi. A memorable episode is the one featuring Rose's "departure" and, of course, the wedding, which happened exactly how Judith definitely didn’t want it to.

This series began very ambitiously, and there was good reason for that. The lavish previous seasons became the most prominent German export, representing in a nutshell that legendary myth of the Weimar Republic... An unmistakable combination of decadence, corruption, politics, art, and crisis. Who wouldn’t be curious about what 1931 had in store for the homicide squad and everyone else fighting daily on the brink of poverty? While the previous seasons still provided a very realistic depiction of that time within the realm of fiction, emotionally believable and dramatically compelling, the 4th season seems to have become more of a guidebook. There are too many plotlines, too many characters without strong connections, and at least three or four separate finales followed one after another in the second half of the series. But where did the point of the Sonnenborn project go? Why did the climactic action of the Berlin police unfold in the style of Al Capone? And was it really necessary to introduce yodeling at Moka Efti? So many questions. Nevertheless, the train called Babylon Berlin is still moving, and it will be interesting to see whether the filmmakers take Gereon all the way to America or completely part ways with the novels.

The future is all about AI and sexy robots, apparently. According to Japanese legends, robo-girls will eventually replace real women, and no man will ever be lonely again (though humanity might just happily go extinct). I can kind of get behind this idea in a futuristic, progressive way—after all, I have a pretty close relationship with my fridge, though I’ve never thought about putting anything in it besides food... That said, if I were to pick my own robo-girlfriend, I’d definitely go for an upgraded model like Super Mina over the older version. Seeing robo-girls with exposed parts doesn’t appeal to me; I’d rather leave a little to the imagination. Plus, the close-up shots of the robot girl’s camera eyes were more creepy than cute. Alright, enough jokes. While I have my reservations about human-robot relationships, I get that some people are desperate and may even crave something artificial. Putting the whole robot thing aside, what I found was a pretty laid-back series with likable characters (even Mamoru, who’s actually kind of adorable). I even found myself rooting for the main duo. So, overall, it's watchable, visually decent, and the music's not bad. As a romance, it only half works, with some awkward moments, but as a slice-of-life show with a unique family setup, it was actually pretty enjoyable. 5.8/10.

Backwoods outsider Martinón is good at hunting and skinning animals, but he’s not very good with women. Will his dream of having a child be fulfilled? A gently told story with a minimum of dialogue, with a remote mountain setting in which only the chosen ones survive. Interactions between a man and a woman as if in the Middle Ages, without smiles, foreplay or embraces. The actors and unpredictable screenplay are worthy of praise. But it’s a shame about the absence of a satisfying ending.

This was easily one of the weakest anime I’ve finished this season—or maybe I’m just not the target audience. Imagine Solo Leveling for kids under 12. In this world, dungeons suddenly start appearing, and chosen adventurers dive into them to fight monsters. Sound familiar? I’m not surprised! But honestly, you probably need to be under 12 to be impressed by a protagonist who goes dungeon crawling armed with nothing but a stick and two cans of bug spray, every adventurer’s best friend! And for his first big purchase, our hero buys...a wetsuit. Yeah, because that’s exactly the kind of gear that’ll protect you from everything. Sure, he looks like a bit of a fool, but hey, maybe someone out there finds it clever. The dungeons themselves? Terrifying—mostly because of how much the electricity bill must be! At least up until the 10th floor, where the walls are fully lit, making sure everything is perfectly visible...so the kids won’t be too scared, I guess. And, of course, the deeper you go, the better loot you find. Except, poor Kaito somehow scores all the overpowered drops right on the first floor. Go figure! If that were the case, wouldn’t every adventurer be farming that level for OP gear? But nope, you’ve gotta be a "nobody" or your typical anime protagonist to get lucky. Some adventurers dive into dungeons to find treasure; others seem to go to collect their loli entourage. Honestly, if I got this many loli companions from playing a gacha, I’d uninstall the game. Even Kaito starts questioning if this is really what he signed up for as he builds up a generic harem, heading deeper into dungeons that seem oddly empty except for monsters and treasure waiting just for him and his pals. Looking for positives? The production quality isn’t bad, the animation is decent, and most of the monsters are hand-drawn instead of CGI, which is a plus. The music’s okay too. But as for the story and characters? This is clearly aimed at kids—friendship conquers all, fear is the biggest enemy, and most plot twists are predictable way ahead of time. The characters are cute but shallow, with no real depth. If that’s your thing, maybe this is for you, but it didn’t do it for me. I made it through the whole series, but I can’t give it more than a 4/10. If you’re under 12, you might double that score, but as for me? I’m too old for this shit.

The Hypnosis starts out as a relationship movie that subtly satirises the environment of technology start-ups and then blossoms into a wonderful cringe-fest in the mould of Toni Erdmann, when your skin crawls because of the onslaught of inappropriate interactions. Director Ernst De Geer stages awkwardness as masterfully as his compatriot Ruben Östlund. He doesn’t go to similar extremes, though only for a few moments. ___ What if we could use hypnotherapy, for example, to release our consciousness bound by social conventions and rid ourselves of the fear of losing face? Like the protagonist manages to do, having returned to the self of her childhood and whose thinking is no longer limited by routine and rules. Everything becomes a game for her. But she has ahead of her an important presentation of the mobile app that she developed with her anxious partner, who expects Vera to play the role of the professional in meetings with mentors and investors, and to pretend that she is pursuing a worthy cause and, like him, wants to save the (third) world. However, it no longer makes sense to her to be only outwardly authentic just to not step over the boundaries within which “naturalness” and “true self” are merely harmless slogans aimed at increasing the attractiveness of the product. She wants to play with an imaginary chihuahua, drink vodka with milk and dance to loud music until the morning. Her dedication to the game highlights the hypocrisy and prudishness of the other characters, who have standardised their behaviour in the interest of career growth. Their imagination has atrophied in the meantime. Therefore, the question arises as to who is actually hypnotised, who behaves as if they are not themselves, but is instead a slave to norms and expectations. ___ The Hypnosis basically updates Lars von Trier’s The Idiots, though with a lesser degree of filmmaking radicalism. It adds the motif of performative feminism, corporate virtue signalling and a modern approach to relationships and to the psyche, which we constantly attempt to optimise as if they were our work projects. Unlike von Trier and Östlund, however, De Geer doesn’t approach the characters only as the objects of a social experiment. He is also interested in their feelings, not just the masks that they wear, thanks to which The Hypnosis ultimately works best as a relationship film in which the ultimate expression of love is acceptance of one’s partner in all of their positions. Including the absolute strangest ones. Or the most authentic. 80%

The conclusion of the trilogy truly lives up to its name. Everyone is against everyone, and the most surprising element isn't so much the encounter with the Taborite Picards, but rather the recasting of actors from previous films. For instance, Vlasta Matulová transitions from the role of Czech Queen Žofie to the lesser nobility as Ctibor’s daughter Zdena, Václav Voska forgets his role as Čeněk of Wartenberg and becomes the Taborite priest Petr Kániš, or Jaroslav Vojta swiftly transforms from the baker Joha to Šimon, known as Ohnivec. These period missteps are more jarring than the trivial young love, previously portrayed by Marie Tomášová and later replaced by Jana Rybářová in the finale. Otakar Vávra's Hussite trilogy is an inconsistent work in every conceivable aspect and will continue to represent the heaviest burden from the 1950s for a long time, as we Czechs have learned to think differently about the socialist realist films, but the revolutionary Hussitism still remains an unresolved question, one that struggles to resist the appeal of audience-attracting battle scenes.

In Jan Žižka, Otakar Vávra and Miloš Václav Kratochvíl could no longer rely on Jirásek, and it shows. Dramatically, the film is exceptionally weak, and all efforts are in vain because the entire film is devoted exclusively to the Battle of Sudoměř. Nothing else matters, and nothing else makes sense. That's why the whole subplot with Czech King Václav IV, who descended among the common people and learned about their moral qualities, feels so out of place.

Hussitism in Czech cinema has always served merely as a backdrop for the politicized messages of its time. There remains a certain notion that Vávra's films are of good quality for their time, at least from a formal perspective. The great crowd scenes, costumes, and set design by Jiří Trnka contribute significantly. The individual characters are portrayed with theatrical shortcuts, yet despite everything, Jan Hus stands out as the best of the trilogy, perhaps because faith in truth has not yet died.

It's a fun and silly show. Some of its aspects worked out great, others didn’t. It's a weird mishmash of all kinds of things, and there are certain rules that the series often fails to follow or simply forgets. The society is portrayed as a matriarchy, with women supposedly holding the main power, but besides initial conflicts with the stepmother and occasional heroic tea parties, I never got the impression that the position of women was even remotely dominant, quite the other way round. So, it's a pointless premise that is not fully utilized and hardly works at all. The handling of social status and nobility is also quite odd. Another thing that drove me nuts about the series was the constant repetition of "I'm just a mob character..." especially when the main protagonist doesn't act accordingly and then wonders why everything gets so complicated. It's satisfying to see Luxion give him a hard time in the final episode. However, the rewards given to the main character don't feel satisfying. It’s as if someone is throwing them at him against his will. I know it’s the creative intention and it's supposed to be funny, but it works maybe the first time, and then it becomes irritating (just like the hero saying that he's just a mob character again...). And now for the positives. The best thing about the series is the main protagonist, who is rotten and sarcastic, but ultimately still a good guy. He's one of those who understand that before you hit someone, you need to defeat them verbally. I really grew fond of Leon, and I enjoyed almost every interaction he had with everyone else: He had the best chemistry with Luxion, so it’s obvious who the ideal waifu for the main character is! The other characters are also well-portrayed. There are plenty of reasons not to like the prince and his entourage and to root for the hero instead, however, even they gradually reveal some good qualities that made me appreciate them, too. Similarly, the main female characters are sometimes strong, and sometimes tragic, but always relatable and likable. The story is a confusing journey of an involuntary hero, which, thanks to his knowledge of the game, isn't too dramatic or thrilling. It’s fun to watch the hero outsmart everyone, though. It didn't get boring for me even after twelve episodes. 6.4/10.

Predator Brian Peck is defended by almost everyone, claiming that Drake Bell must have "provoked" him. Disgusting. A child never provokes a father figure to commit assault. Never. It turns out that Brian Peck was just one of the trio of pedophiles working under Nickelodeon, the others were Jason Michael Handy and Ezell Channel. Horrible things are happening on the set of iCarly, and it's even crazier because it's such a successful business, supported by Michelle Obama, and is basically the only competition for Hannah Montana. More issues come from the set of Zoey 101, where adults forced kids to make one sexual innuendo after another, but because Dan Schneider was too strong in his position as creator, no one said anything to him. But watching young Ariana Grande masturbate without her knowledge is too perverse. Sam & Cat star Jennette McCurdy even wrote a book about her experience on set, and it still wasn't enough. However, a ban on working with actors is coming, which Dan Schneider is trying to solve by creating more series like Henry Danger and Danger Force... and only in a post #MeToo world is it possible to truly make a change.

Alan Pakula's All the President's Men is one of my favourite political investigative dramas, and this film, two years younger, takes a slightly different approach. The investigative journalism is still there, but the investigation is more straightforward, more of a life-and-death levitation, the solo of one embattled journalist who gets himself in mortal danger a few times. The paranoia of a conspiracy by a major corporation and its connected government circles is palpable, two years after the Watergate affair, and it culminates in an ending so provocative that I wouldn't hesitate to call it as bold an auteurist vision as, say, Francis Ford Coppola's The Conversation. For me, the unexpected highlight is the psychological acceptance test at the Parallax headquarters halfway through the film, a five-minute (!!) sequence of images, categorised as 'dad-mom-god-home' etc., designed to evoke certain associations in the protagonist. I have to say, I haven't seen anything stranger in a movie in a long time.