Lima

Some good revenge flick has spawned a child with Slumdog Millionaire and emerged with a confident directorial debut that is anything but a simple action flick for housewives to iron their laundry. Dev Patel also approaches even the usual scenes in his own original way, so that even an ordinary training montage is brimming with ideas that won't soon get stale, and the action sequences themselves, which the film spares, demonstrate imaginative choreography. The cinematography is brimming with over-stylised colours and I liked how the mental processes in the protagonist's face are originally portrayed through cartoonish images. But where the story of the monkey man breaks out of the usual genre pigeonholes is its socially critical feel. India, though beautiful, is actually a harsh country with huge social divides where even within the same neighbourhood you can find luxury and abject poverty side by side, and Patel beautifully highlights and critiques this. There is the luxury of modern skyscrapers and right next to it a neighbourhood of dingy slums with crowded, cramped alleys. But the poor here are not in the position of those who bemoan their status, but as someone who has a rich inner life with faith in their Indian deities. Unexpectedly, you learn more about Indian society from this film than the shallow fairy tale of the aforementioned Millionaire, which also wanted to be a social probe, but stuck with the fairy tale. Sure, not everything Patel does is up to scratch – for instance, the elevator fight to the completely unsuitable accompaniment of Boney M is one of the most bizarre things I've seen in the action genre, and I don't mean that in a good way. But those are minor things, Dev otherwise handled it with flying colours.

I'm not really into Saleka Shyamalan's shallow pop for teenage girls, but who I absolutely enjoyed was the fan-tas-tic Josh Hartnett. Every look he gave, every twitch of his face, was completely telling of the momentary situation he was in. Great performance. And M. Night Shyamalan proves once again what he's been strongest at his entire career. Namely, coming up with a completely original, unorthodox concept that he has always alternately managed to follow through with. And that's true here too. The first half, about the search for an exit from the encirclement, is a great piece of screenwriting, but unfortunately, after the twist in the middle and Lady Raven's involvement in the plot, it stopped being interesting. Firstly because of the haphazard logic and also because Shymalan's daughter simply doesn't have the acting skills to pull this off. But all things considered, after the terrible Glass, when I had already broken my stick over Shyamalan, I actually liked his last two films quite a bit beyond my expectations. It's not a return to the limelight, more like a light echo of his great beginnings.

A detective story of the absolutely classic old-fashioned style, like from Agatha Christie wrote, the kind our grandmothers loved and read before going to bed. At the end, when Maigret gathers the suspects around a table to uncover the villain, I smiled with satisfaction, this is exactly what my old-fashioned soul needed. Commissaire Maigret, or my favourite charismatic Jean Gabin, has swapped the darkened streets of Paris for the countryside, and he is just as good as he was in the previous film. That former was much more dynamic, with more "cinematic" camerawork, whereas the latter goes for explicit dialogue with more sedate shots, which the current younger generation may find unappealing, but I had a great time. It's completely pointless to compare this to Bruno Cremer (I like him too), as many others here do. Each took the role in a completely different way, and in the cinematic Maigret universe, the two complement each other perfectly.