Isherwood

There is power in simplicity, even if the monstrous epic tempts many viewers to seek complex interpretations. The power of Nolan's narrative lies in confronting the fundamental life decisions of a handful of people about the future of homo sapiens at the expense of personal interests and desires. Let us take those scientific lessons, limited to the described tables, which we do not understand anyway, as a glittering decoy toward a dead end. The sweeping cinematography and roaring music are meant to give the impression of a major space adventure, and yet, thanks mainly to the terrific cast, it's really one big cliché about a father-daughter relationship where the question is whether the journey through the wormhole will help them see each other again. I really didn't expect myself to be so sensitive and that at the end of it, I would cheer for it wholeheartedly. It was actually nice to get something completely different in the movie theater than I originally expected and that the whole colossus worked. This is particularly true when I sat in front of the screen with a certain amount of skepticism thanks to the diametrically opposed responses. [But I don't deny that everything negative you read about the film is true. And yet so are the positives.]

James Cameron is a very wise and clever man. The way he was able to gracefully bridge Scott's horror film (the 57-year time gap, the nightmares, the colonization of the planet) to his own vision of an alien encounter is admirable. It’s an impressive action ride that is unrivaled across all weight categories. It’s built on ingenious editing, (now legendary) sound, and of course, a bunch of marines who, apart from an amazing arsenal, also spew a bunch of catchphrases that should be carved into the most expensive marble. This simply fascinates me even after more than twenty years. To this day I still wonder how something like this film could have ever been made... for me, this is James Cameron's best film and think what you will about it, but that's about all you can do.

This is the richest interpretive film I know. Is it a critique of consumerism, a satire on the far-right and anarchist associations at the same time, or just a provocative thriller about the need for violence? Maybe all of it. In any case, it takes a good bit of genius to make it not look, through its shiny facade, like an angry young generation that wants to save the world with rocks in their hands, but rather like a serious ancient philosopher who has it all figured out to the last detail. It was a breakthrough life film for when I was in my 20s, and a decade later it’s (only) a fantastic cinematic ride without compromises, reflecting the end of the 1990s like few other things.

Today, Bay is considered one of the most twisted megalomaniacs of the dream factory, and I must admit that his exaggerated grandiosity still genuinely entertains me. Among his best films, this high-octane, adrenaline-fueled ride will forever remain the one that perfectly defines the action films of the 1990s. The technical aspects may have their flaws, but it has a clever screenplay that makes fun of the 'Bond myth' and cleverly puts together all those clichés with incredible elegance and simplicity. That means that there's no point in getting upset about it. However, the main strength lies in the cast and Bay's directorial engine, which runs at impressive speeds. The opening ambush scene is rhythmically (the cinematography, editing, music) probably the best I've ever seen in the genre. And Hans Zimmer has never made more heroic music. I've never seen any other movie more times in my life. It’s been around 60 times.

Fractured friendships, broken slates, galleys, a sheik who spews catchphrases, circus races, and crucifixions. Three and a half hours of the greatest spectacle Hollywood has ever offered. It does have its flaws: It's too long, theatrical, and overwrought, but the film grabs you (ladies forgive me, I’m just figuratively speaking) by the balls and lets you go only after the closing credits. A sequence of memorable scenes that, in the end, deserves all the little statues, regardless of what you think of them. If I have to define a great film, I'll religiously always mention this one first.

Untouched by the comics, but with thoughts of both Gilliam and Greengrass, I end up being thankful for Zack Snyder, who has grown as a filmmaker in his third film. While he was enabled by an obviously strong premise or rather its script treatment, the way Snyder presents the vast world of rejected superheroes is breathtaking. It’s a powerful reflection on America with an almost meditative thought about humans in general. It is based on excellent dialogue by a group of fresh-faced actors who are occasionally sent into excellent action sequences by the director. Rorschach's rendezvous with the cops took me far beyond mere viewer ecstasy. I left the movie theater very pensive, but a day later I was cheering and I know I have to see it at least one more time. Edit I: It was worth it. It's been a long time since I've experienced a second screening of a film that I've enjoyed so intensely. Edit II The D.C. version is "only" a gourmet cherry on top.

Endless chaos in the hands of one man, good and evil that lack boundaries, fantastic hi-tech toys, great actors, dry bon mots, one magic act, and most importantly two and a half hours of undiluted adventure where Nolan jumps from one peak to an even higher one to develop a meaningful plot, all while remembering the action that makes the weak ones wet. Since The Bourne Ultimatum, there’s now a film that resolutely rejects notions like "time-out" and "dead spot." And then there’s the oppressive music before the Joker does another number... I could go on forever. Film of the Year? Probably.