Lima

A somewhat shallow insight into a world where the ordinary citizen cannot get to and a normal thinking person perhaps does not even want to get to. I am simply not impressed by the issues surrounding football rowdies. I don't understand their caste into clans, their identification with a club that they are willing to defend even at the cost of violence, I don't understand why they are so willing to beat the shit out of each other, why they directly arrange fights with other clans, and this film certainly didn't clarify it for me, even though in the words of one of the main protagonists, Pete, it tried to bring me closer to the mindset of these guys with an excess of testosterone. It's artfully and realistically shot with an impressive atmosphere, it has superb performances (Charlie Hunnam rocks), but it's shallow. And Wood's confession and thank you towards his bully mentor at the very end is tear-jerking (and I don't mean touching).

It’s not far from a fourth star. The first hour Craven carries it off with absolute clarity. The whole action on the plane, supported by the claustrophobic atmosphere and the seemingly hopeless situation of the main character (a very charming McAdams) is impressive and suspenseful, but unfortunately once the action moves to Lisa's house for the last 10 minutes or so, the tension is lost, with predictability and a bit of that genre cliché coming in. Another shame is the short runtime (73 minutes without credits). But beware, when God was handing out villainous charisma to future actors, Cillian Murphy went for five, he's the main reason this thriller is worth watching. I've been more and more interested in this guy since Batman Begins.

It’s about three and a half. Unfortunately, the very decent script, the surprisingly believable Knightley and the unearthly badass Rourke are ruined by Scott's mania over his video clip skills, overuse of colourful fitters and a hyperactive editor's hand. Had it been put into the hands of a slightly more artful filmmaker, it would have been a little great film.

On the problem of sexual harassment in a country where even the compliment "You look good today, miss" is often a case for a lawyer, I have my own opinion, and the film might give the impression that most of the male population are chauvinistic pigs, but I think Niki Caro was on to something else. It's about showing the need for normal human respect that women deserve in a distinctly male environment, the senselessness of the prejudices against them, and the fact that constant sexual innuendo may not logically be to women's liking. All the scenes from the mine where Charlize's character experiences humiliation are impressive (including the believable setting), but on the other hand the film loses some of its breath whenever we find ourselves in the courtroom and the final catharsis doesn't have the power to send chills down the spine. But Charlize is great as the brave, headstrong woman and literally pulls the whole film through despite the weaker moments when it grinds. And a double treat as a bonus: seeing Woody Harrelson in a more prominent role for the first time in a long time, and Sean Bean in a positive role. Here again I miss a full rating – 3 and a half *.

Werner Herzog, the creator of the fascinating Fitzcarraldo and Aguirre, the Wrath of God, is a maverick, an original who ignores the audience's response and makes his own films. This one was preceded by a rumour that the actors involved in it were hypnotised, which is of course gossip, but it really seemed that way, given how stiffly they deliver their lines and how unnatural they seem in their acting. The film does have a captivating "Herzog" atmosphere, with a brutally slow-moving plot and plenty of absurd situations that look truly bizarre. The villagers walk around like zombies cut out of a Romero film, two guys sit at a table opposite each other in a tavern and with a completely impassive expression, without a single word or meaning to the plot, pull each other's hair, pour beer on each other, and smash glasses over each other's heads and talk about it, as they lie on top of each other, then another guy with a stiff motion and a fan of cards in his hand goes to look at the fire and then comes back again without a word, some villager dances with his dead friend, and to top it all off, constant cuts to an emaciated old man in a chair, etc. etc. Some may call it paintings with philosophical overtones, others may be genuinely amused, some may even be disgusted. The plot revolves around a village glassworks and the search for the recipe of the glassworks' signature product – ruby glass – which a local took with him to the grave. Everything is watched from afar and the story is essentially guided by a character who lives in the mountains, can predict the future and spews out one philosophical idea after another. The story is refreshed by shots of magically beautiful natural scenery (the ones in the opening are deliberately as if from a faulty filmstrip) accompanied by impressive music. All together, they form a whole that can bore someone to death with its narrative style and make another stare at the screen in fascination. For me it's something in between, that's why I give it a neutral 3*. Really hard to judge.

If this is how consumerist California envisions a European-style auteur arthouse cinema, then God help us. An unbelievably hackneyed farce, with an opaque plot that it’s unable to draw the viewer into the action. Comparisons with Kaufman are completely out of place, because unlike this mess, Kaufman doesn't lack clarity (although it may not seem so at first glance), wit and a sense of punchline. The most interesting part of the whole film was a completely unrelated discussion with my friend about Cronenberg, after we lost interest in the film after about 70 minutes of watching it. PS: Mind you, I'm a Russell fan and I love his Three Kings.

A sequence of episodes that don't hold together and lack a point. A strange mess that unsuccessfully plays at being art and a clever film full of life wisdom, but it is neither. Verbinski should not be attempting a new American Beauty and should stick to what he does best: seasonal blockbusters. However, the reborn Cage was great, and the fact that he doesn't get out of the picture the whole time makes this film even more watchable. 2 1/2 *.

I first met Johnny Cash on U2's “Zooropa” while listening to the last song he sang with his beautiful deep voice (which Joaquin Phoenix also possesses), and although his work is not my cup of tea, he certainly deserved "his" movie for the inspiration that many music personalities, not only country but also rock, credit him with. Thankfully, Walk the Line isn't a boringly descriptive story, despite spanning a several eras, the viewer doesn't really learn much about Cash's achievements and work (which may disappoint die-hard fans), but the story focuses intimately on the formation of his relationship with his future wife June Carter (a sweetly vital Reese Witherspoon) and his almost obsession with her, showing his addiction to pills and his lifelong struggle to cope with the death of his brother. Joaquin not only sings beautifully and I believed his every move with the guitar in his hand, and his tormented look with the inner demons in his eyes, which he was constantly fighting with, was Oscar-worthy. Likewise Witherspoon, with the body of a fragile little bum, but the character of a strong woman and Cash's redeeming angel. The only thing that separates this film from 5* is the absence of a really strong scene that would be indelibly etched in my memory, except perhaps for a punishingly brief moment depicting a concert in Folsom Prison that gave me goosebumps.

I feel that Besson's production and especially screenwriting prefabrications are starting to become a genre in their own right. Well, let's just call them “Bessonflicks” = narratively stupid brain-wash for viewers endowed with a hell of a lot of detachment. This sequel has is ten times more of that than in the first one (which I liked for its unconcealed simplicity and pace), but the plot and most of the action passages become so absurd that they start to get boring – more bombastic action sometimes doesn't mean more fun. And the transfusion of the antidote and the airplane at the end really sucked.

Quite often hammy humour, exaggerated emotions (as it is usual for Asians) and a few fleeting smiles, but the technical and visual effects coat is so lavish in the context of Hong Kong production that this flick is worth seeing.