novoten

It was a terrible blow at the time. After four adventures with the elegant Brosnan, the tough guy Craig came, an uncompromising sharpshooter, a bleeding brawler, a tormented sarcastic, and a rough mountain of secret agent potential. In front of his charisma, out of respect, I almost hid under the seat, but he didn't fit my previous perception of the Bond brand. The dry lines remained, the technical toys gave way to dirty action, and it was only after a long 14 years since the premiere that I finally realized, during a specific "regeneration" revision, how perfectly balanced the Montenegrin card spectacle turned out to be. From the black and white intro to the Italian shot.

Hard to defend or conversely damnable film. I don't know if the literary source had any deeper meaning, but I couldn't find it in the adaptation. The actors do deliver excellent performances, but the story got lost already during the first trip.

When I decided to go see Hidden Identity, contrary to my original intention, I was firmly convinced that I would not try to compare it to the original. In a movie where the best moments are those that exactly copy it, I can't do otherwise. As for the star-studded cast, DiCaprio, Damon, and Sheen are great, Baldwin and Wahlberg are average, and Farmiga and, to my huge surprise, Nicholson are terrible. Especially in his role in The Departed, he proves why the remake should not have been made. Instead of a subtle gangster leader, Costello is a sleazy and unnecessarily vulgar arrogant, who doesn't care about anything or anyone, and the screenwriters added a stupidly behaving female character between the two main heroes, which further diminishes the credibility of their mutual duel. And above all, I won't forgive Scorsese for one fundamental thing: the suspenseful, emotionally charged, and, in my eyes, forever unforgettable final scene in the elevator, which was the highlight of the original, became a farce in the remake, cramming three twists into a few seconds, and the absurdly portrayed final shootout of the main characters provoked a deserved and almost incredulous mockery in the theater. Scorsese destroyed a film that could have redefined the gangster genre, but instead he only dissected the original and wildly twisted it - and that has earned him everything possible, except for the promised pinnacle of his career.

When the third meaningless murderous scene appeared within the first quarter hour, I started to feel slightly uneasy, and when everything in its ironic spirit led to the same culminating point, I was already almost irritated. But then came what I expected couldn't possibly come. I forgot that Slevin was directed by Paul McGuigan (he definitely wouldn't be pleased to see how many people accuse him of plagiarizing Tarantino), who once played with a confused tangle when he presented me with the excellent film Pushing Tin. And he pulled off something similar here as well when he comes up with a complicated, but brilliantly made gradation that is longer than usual and gives very clear and sufficiently effective answers to all questions. At this moment, I think that the ironic detachment in the first part was actually not so unnecessary because it was balanced by a superb atmosphere and soundtrack right on the border between sarcasm and gangster themes. In the end, just under 80%, absolutely flawless Willis and above-average rest of the cast, along with excellent camera work and McGuigan, whose next work is worth waiting for.

A magnificent, slow-paced and in the purest way soothing film that, upon further viewings, gains a stamp of genius in my eyes. Spacey demonstrates that even the most challenging acting challenge is not insurmountable for him, and Bridges perfectly accentuates his civilian role. Criticisms towards the screenplay are irrelevant; if Prot only wandered around the mental institution, treated patients, and awed with his knowledge of the universe, it would quickly lose the magic that makes these scenes unforgettable. It is precisely the dramatic storyline, unfolding in the second half, that gives K-PAX an aura of a meticulously crafted film until the very last scene.

At the beginning, I barely defended myself from almost disgust, but in the end I managed to achieve two very dirty stars thanks to good tricks for children and a few funny situations, which I honestly feel ashamed of. In order for this creation to be equal to the original series, it would have to get rid of the omnipresent and unbearable yelling.

Another unforgettable Woody affair, set exactly between perfect satire and amazing comedy. I consider casting myself as Zelig a stroke of genius, because only Allen can endow the main protagonist with a special aura. Moreover, with each subsequent viewing, this genius matures up to the director's best films ever. This kind of idea is balanced with gold. This is something he brought upon himself after a Mexican meal.

Personal dilemma. After twenty minutes of watching an anonymous cluster of characters that I couldn't unravel even after several attempts, I wanted to leave the cinema and not bother with a film where an Egyptian and a Croat are in a relationship, and the viewer has no idea how these two got together and why on earth they stay together when they can't stand each other for longer than half an hour. The actors don't really help the director either, most of the scenes almost seem like the wrong tape footage got into the final edit instead of the proper ones. When one of the characters gets stuck in the middle of a sentence and then stutters on, the viewer probably should understand that the characters are meant to be natural. No, it doesn't work, Gunnarsson is really not Alice Nellis. So, in my eyes, the savior of the film became Davídek. The fact that he is ugly, annoying, and despotic speaks for something. His lines during his fits of rage save the unbearable static story at times and help to endure the illogically behaving collection of oddballs around him. But when I think about Silný kafe at this moment, I feel a pretty relaxed atmosphere with a decent soundtrack and, to my surprise, I judge that if I happened to come across the film on TV, I probably wouldn't resist watching the rerun. However, it won't get a better rating because at the same time I remember the scene of "improvisation on boats", where the beautiful Coufalová delivers the unforgettable line "Go or we'll...stab you". It could have been an amazing film, this is how I want to see only another film with Davídek's character and a better-made film with Coufalová, where she doesn't have to talk too much. P.S.: With the passage of several years, I gladly acknowledge that although the form is really poor, the content remains in my mind. Some dialogues are taken from real life and brutally unedited, so I raise it to three with a clear conscience.

I don't believe that this little ingenious merging of mythologies is just a fan affair, it feels more like a taste of the Batman ends film. Two years before the messiah Nolan, the first glimpse of brighter tomorrows.

Comedy overflowing with visual ideas that combines ecology with sci-fi, romance, and one-liners. Svěrák Jr. was incredibly lucky back then when he had this script at his disposal and had his father and Petr Forman in their best form in front of the camera, so it's no wonder. I like goats.