gudaulin

Even simple stories that have been told a thousand times can be made in an original way, and In Search of a Midnight Kiss belongs to the minority of films that can pleasantly surprise. It is unconventional and provocative like Kevin Smith's early films, it chose a black-and-white camera and can depict an interesting atmosphere with it, and it is able to offer unfamiliar actors who can captivate. And most importantly, it is not artificial and shallow. I believe in the thought processes and decisions of these characters, even though Sara Simmonds exudes such dominance and self-centered arrogance in the first few minutes that I would have left immediately had I been in Wilson's place. In Search of a Midnight Kiss is a bittersweet romance about emotional maturity in the shadow of Hollywood studios, filmed in the spirit of the best traditions of the American independent scene. Overall impression: 80%.

Brendan and the Secret of Kells had already convinced me that Tomm Moore is a creator whose work is worth following. It is a joy to see a film that can work with fairytale motifs and appeal to adults without relying on pop culture references. The film, which cleverly combines Irish mythology with the present, manages to avoid cheap sentimentality while telling stories that directly invite emotional manipulation. A bonus is the original visual design, which not only surpasses what Disney has achieved in animated films but also defies the standards of contemporary American animation and computer graphics. Personally, I give it a thumbs up and I would just add a warning: Song of the Sea is not suitable for young children due to how it is made, and not just because it is shown in its original language. The ballad-like story and philosophical depth will appeal more to older viewers. Overall impression: 90%.

As you can see, Strange Days has received awkward reviews and comments on this database. Many people struggle with this dark-action crime story with a sci-fi theme. Personally, I claim that I thoroughly enjoyed this cyberpunk-influenced affair with dirty characters and an apocalyptic urban atmosphere that has long ceased to control itself. Traditionally excellent, Fiennes delivers a fantastic performance and Juliette Lewis had not yet been affected by drug experiments and plastic surgery at this point. I actually only have two objections. Cyberpunk traditionally portrays strong female characters and it is said that Kathryn Bigelow has balls. However, her heroine is perceived as powerful as a larger military unit and that action part is somewhat exaggerated and cheaply flashy because of her. And the knife firmly embedded in the back of the unlucky hero would mean premature termination of the fight and actually the end of the movie's story, not a prelude to an impressive twist in the battle. Overall impression: 75%.

The initial reactions were not only positive, but enthusiasm was also evident in them as if a sports club from a small town struggling at the bottom of the league had triumphed over the champions from the big city. Expressions like "finally, a world-class Czech film" and the like appeared. Because such praise has resonated throughout the Czech Republic several times before, and I subsequently had to adjust my high expectations, I approached the film with caution. Nevertheless, my verdict this time is: after a long time, several months to be precise, this is my best movie theater experience, and since the success of The Way Out last year, this is the first Czech film that is worth going to the movie theater for. This is primarily due to the excellent acting of the Hádek brothers and the attractive portrayal of the community of small-town outsiders - people without education, without what they need, and often unfortunately without responsibility and social intelligence. Both film brothers have their own plans; Užovka's plan is more ambitious, but also somewhat sensitive to external threats. I see a weakness in the script, as I don't really know what the director's focus is. A conflict between the brothers terminated by a divine intervention? Friendship divided by a prison wall? Even here, I don't see a significant dramatic conflict; in the harshly pragmatic environment of Czech society, Užovka's decision seems rational, and the director creates a moral dilemma that, I'm afraid, doesn't actually exist for the majority of viewers. The film touches on a number of issues, but it never goes to the core. What's worse, the ending feels helpless and, moreover, unconvincing. I understand the rise of certain nobodies in films. The antihero of an American drama I recently watched, Nightcrawler, is an example of a character whose transformation from a meaningless nobody to a dangerous player who fiercely pursues his goals is quite believable. But Užovka is not a big player, and in the real world, someone like him is not destined to play the role of a boss. Overall impression: 65%.

With the word "funeral" we associate respect for the deceased, the pain of the bereaved, tears, and regret over the departure of a loved one. However, the creators of British black comedy were able to unleash a much wider range of emotions on a small scale and, above all, they demonstrated that a properly conceived funeral can bring unexpected surprises and experiences, starting with the exchange of the deceased and the revelation of the deceased's sexual desires. For a truly adrenaline-filled unconventional experience, all you need is to assemble a suitable list of mourners. The old grumpy uncle definitely has to be there, next to whom the grandfather from The Simpsons feels like Mother Teresa, as well as the hypochondriac with a fascinating ability to make faux pas, the slimy playboy, the dwarf with shady intentions... Just a glimpse of this bizarre cast is enough for you to begin to suspect where the local gathering is headed. Moreover, only a few of the attendees are gifted with the ability to solve logistical problems such as fitting two corpses into a single coffin, and only the mentally strongest can cope with the arrival of the deceased back among the mourners. Add in a few seemingly innocent props, like a tube of pills which, however, hides a strong hallucinogenic drug instead of an innocent remedy - and the disaster is complete. Along with that, we get the traditional dry British conversational humor, like: "I have a feeling that my father's funeral was attended by far more friends than he had while alive." That's exactly the kind of humor that appeals to me, and I forgive the one toilet humor scene with a touch of Frank Oz. I just slightly dislike the more vulgar language, as I associate British films of a similar nature with a certain nobility. Overall impression: 90%.

Originally, I gave this film  4 stars, but then I thought about it and realized how many films have recently annoyed or simply disappointed me and how rare it is to come across a film that has all the signs of a precise craft, has a clearly legible signature, and deals with a strong theme. I'm not saying that this is the best De Sica film I've ever seen, and I'm not saying that this is the best piece of Italian neorealism, and for a while, I struggled with whether De Sica went a little too far into cheap sentimentality. But in the end, I think he balanced it excellently, and the creative courage that is demonstrated by daring to cast non-actors in the lead roles is something I generally appreciate. Umberto D. is a film about the desperate struggle to maintain dignity in a situation where you have no tricks up your sleeve and your fate amounts to constantly giving in, tightening your belt, and losing everything you used to love and care about. It is a  film strong in its details, and convincing, and where the key issue, of course, is how digestible the story of an old helpless man in a hopeless situation will be for you. Personally, I claim that after quite a long time, this is a film that truly brought me joy. Overall impression: 90%.

The story has the power of Arnold Schwarzenegger's biceps, a topic that has not yet been explored in cinema, and it is obviously made with enthusiasm and talent, care and knowledge, and simply honesty. Nevertheless, I have mixed feelings about this Baltic piece. The film experiments that appear at film festivals usually present a significant risk for the viewers because they can encounter a variety of things. I felt like a theatergoer who goes to see a play and accidentally wanders into a wax figure museum, meticulously crafted, intricately detailed, dramatically lit, and accompanied by an emotional commentary. With all due respect to the maker of the figures and the whole project, I would probably feel somewhat cheated. I can't claim that I wasn't warned, but I didn't take the information about the film seriously enough, or rather, I thought that the mentioned images would come alive at a certain point, and get moving. But then Martti Helde surprised me with the uncompromising nature of his artistic vision. From that moment on, when someone complains about the static nature of a film, I will give them a smack and recommend watching this film. If I had seen the film late at night, it would have had a more reliable effect on me than a dose of horse tranquilizers. It's all well and good that the images have an enchanting impressiveness, but what's the point when there is no more life in them than in a mummy's sarcophagus? A film made in a classical way, meaning I could perceive the dialogues, the acting of the participants, and the film music, would have had a much stronger impact on me, and I probably would not hesitate to give it the highest rating. Overall impression: 50%.

Looking Back is part of the wave of films from the second half of the 1960s, which represented a critical reflection of the attitudes and actions of a generation dealing with the trauma of occupation and taking determined action in building socialism. It was guided by the motto, "When a forest is being cut down, chips fly." There were enough valid reasons for the film to end up in the vault and its author to be considered persona non grata. Even just the sarcastic question about the difference between a fascist and communist dictatorship, which is uttered by one of the characters, must have irritated the normalization approval committee to madness. On the other hand, the openness of the social statement as an evaluative criterion was important precisely at the time of the film's creation; after several decades, what should be decisive is how the film stands artistically. I have mixed feelings about Looking Back. The only thing that works perfectly is the black-and-white camera. The admired Čepek gives a routine performance, although in his case that means he is still a class above the rest. However, I actually didn't believe Jiřina Třebická in her role. She seemed oddly wooden and unnatural to me. If I didn't know her from several other films, I would think of her as a woman who missed her calling. Máša's direction is uncertain and the screenplay, with all due respect, is schematic. If Looking Back was meant to be a showcase of Máša's work, then I understand why the director didn't succeed after the circumstances changed. Overall impression: 40%. I wonder if it's perhaps the weakest film in its category...

I haven't seen this in the theater, but because I am well-read in Fassbinder, I understand that he wanted to settle things with the German bourgeoisie, the establishment that never fully separated itself from its war past during Fassbinder's short life, with all the conformists against whom the left-wing agitator defined himself. Thinking about it, he was bothered by everything and everyone. With knowledge of German history, everyone probably understands why a big Jew appeared in the play, and with awareness of Fassbinder's sexual orientation, you will understand why his characters have such complicated sexuality. However, this context is lost when the play is transferred to the Czech environment, and what remains is a clumsy attempt at great art. I also have a fundamental problem with Gabriela Míčová. Her prostitute Romi, at least as I understand her, was supposed to be in the midst of those selfish monsters, the only human being who allows herself to be exploited by others, and one should feel at least some sympathy for her. I don't know if it's her acting or if her personality has this effect on me, but she seems just as repulsive or unsympathetic to me as the rest of that strange gathering. Overall impression: 25%.

In the opening minutes, it feels like a very raw, unfiltered ride through the underground of a city, a road movie among alcohol-soaked human wrecks, impoverished homeless people, and desperate individuals who survive from day to day. I expected to see a strong realistic social study of people on the outskirts of the system or completely beyond its reach. However, the meager existence named Carax quickly veers toward the shining neon lights, which create a contrast with the filthy homeless people, and the viewer's gaze slides towards the rocket geysers fired during the generously conceived city celebrations. Among their reflections on the surface of the Seine, Carax's characters zigzag while water skiing. Good Lord, what does this have to do with the life reality of Parisian homeless people?! Even those at the bottom of the social ladder are entitled to love and undoubtedly experience it, but it is much harsher. In their world, there is no room for melodrama and beautifully shot poetic images. Carax envisions the love of his characters from a middle-class perspective, effectively lacking any significant features typical of kitschy melodramas. The loving couple is separated by a social abyss, the surroundings don't wish them well, and a serious incurable disease afflicts the girl, whom a miraculous treatment will save from the precipice at the last minute. If The Lovers on the Bridge is interesting in any way, then it is through the amazing transformation that Juliette Binoche undergoes. From a charming beauty, she becomes a burnt-out and embittered wreck, in whom no one would look for one of the most sympathetic actresses around. It is said that when Audrey Hepburn was dressed in an unattractive florist's costume in My Fair Lady, she cried from humiliation. Binoche clearly has no problem with that, and her goal is to sell herself as a great actress, not as a star. Carax offers another plus - impressive shots of Parisian streets, especially the Pont-Neuf bridge. The coldness of the stone blocks, and the images of majestic statues, will certainly leave their mark on the viewer. For these mentioned merits, Carax ultimately receives an overall impression of 55% of the from me, but at the same time, I take away the conviction that Carax is too manneristic a creator for my taste, and in the future, I will tend to avoid his work. By the way, one of his vices is also megalomania because those 130 million francs could have been much more effectively and sensibly invested. If I were a producer, Carax's image would terrify me in the most horrible dreams. The most expensive French film should belong to a different genre and look a little different...