Isherwood

Uncompromisingly unrelenting from the first seconds, larger-than-life in the action moments with thrilling special effects, and always eases up at the right moment. This is a thriller that is unparalleled in the spy subgenre in recent years (except for the Bourne films, which are in a completely different league). Abrams's direction is like a Swiss watch. It doesn't get stuck even in the more intimate scenes of the engaged secret agent (the return home after a failed operation is one of the most moving parts of the film) and thanks to the brilliant casting, it doesn't slip into theatricality even at its weakest moments. Oscar-winner Phillip Seymour Hoffman is a cold-blooded asshole like no other, Ving Rhames sprinkles dry catchphrases, Michelle Monaghan plays more than just a "damsel in distress," and even Tom Cruise is watchable, though he strikes his usual pose here as well. Even so, Mission: Impossible III is the best possible film for a single watch that can see the light of day from the waters of the standard Hollywood mainstream.

The basic "Punch the Roman Legion in the face!" premise of the Asterix and Obelix series is gone, and with it, the magic of its predecessors (I'll tactfully omit the live-action version). The whole scheme of the story has been whittled down to the combat training of the chief's metrosexual nephew and a bunch of Vikings standing on the opposite side wanting to learn fear. However, the plot as a whole lacks the more vigorous spark that would really bring it to the top of the Mount Olympus of entertainment. The layering of gags represents the most uncontrolled dose of un-inventive despair that can possibly be produced. Everyone knows that Obelix likes wild boars and that the magic potion also works wonders on old men, so why do the creators bother with it? In essence, the fact is that these are the only "jokes" we get to see. The rest is the desperate filler that can be seen in every other cartoon these days. The attempt at modernization (the trance party and the song interludes are annoying) has exactly the opposite effect and pushes the film beyond the point of awkwardness, from which it cannot recover. The legend may have been buried years ago with the live-action version, but the cartoonists are doing their best to kill it even more...

Harlin did it right and his rendering of the "Diehard poetics" is completely different from the previous work, more expansive in terms of the plot, and much more formally sweeping. The action he filmed may have lost some of the elegant realism of McTiernan, but the quantity scores full marks this time, and McLane is sent into action that has no close rivals. On the other hand, it should be noted that John McLane has lost the initial charm of his personality, with which he dazzled action fans in his time, but Bruce Willis is still simply hotshot No. 1. At the beginning when he incredulously utters "How does the same shit happen to the same guy twice?", people need to realize that Harlin takes it all with a healthy detachment, occasionally winking ironically at viewers who are in the right mood. I can’t help but give it a perfect score.

The film has an ingenious script, whose basic storyline axis has been done a thousand times, but which has never quite lived up to its quality. Then there’s McTiernan's inventive direction that has drive that is so uncompromising that he actually set the bar so high that no one (including himself) has ever surpassed it. There’s also the Christmas Eve atmosphere when it all went to shit, and Bruce Willis in the role of a lifetime as a tired and determined cop who spouts plenty of catchphrases. All of the aforementioned are the cornerstones of not only this film but of the action genre as a whole, which has never been better on screen since Die Hard. Two hours of ecstasy in the most luxurious packaging that only a dull ignoramus can't love!

Riding the massive wave of various genre clichés with icy calm is a hell of a dose of detachment, which director David R. Ellis really doesn't spare. Even though the fan hype was quite a bit stronger than what the film actually turned out to be, with a cynical dose of audience perversion, one can do nothing but revel for 105 minutes in what wonders can be cooked up from the "B-movie" genre. Definitely the best ultra motherfucking cool movie of the year!

An amoral protagonist who we understand and in a sense sympathize with, as well as dead people at every turn. And yet the killing spree takes up only a fraction of the film's runtime. It is a purely atmospheric affair that is steadied by the director and perfect acting performances but it’s definitely not going to put you in a good mood when it’s over. Michael Rooker is scarier than any murderous "redneck" from horror movies, and yet you meet hundreds of similar (seemingly) nice guys every day. It’s unpleasant, raw, authentic, and great!

Tamahori's directorial debut, exploring the nature of (in)human brutality and instinctive primitivism, may indeed portray the indigenous people without unnecessary embellishment, as well as avoiding total demonization, but it certainly doesn’t deliver a comprehensive picture. The blood of the slaves in a fistfight with the "warriors" may hold up, but a more skillful mix of characters would have helped, given that a confrontation at the level of spouses, where there is clearly a "caste" of the ruling man and woman in the position of near-slave, could have done without the analysis of the relationships inherited from the ancestors. Fortunately, Tamahori makes up for this with an unvarnished view of the offspring, who form the only common element in this unequal relationship. Therefore, the greatest strength of the film lies not in the barroom brawls of hot heads and big muscles but is brought out most wonderfully in the scene of the family outing, when the mother recounts to the children meeting their father and the subsequent aftermath, and especially the utterly emotionally overwhelming impact that is initiated by the tree with the swing. This is the strongest and most important thing the film has to offer. Together they resolve nothing and the "cathartic" conclusion deserves a longer discussion. However, the feeling that "this is how things work in some places, not only on the other side of our planet" is more than unpleasant.

The Coen brothers’ complacent violation of standards and correctness is a joy to behold. However, in their simple world with the highest concentration of bizarre characters per square meter, it is the biggest oddballs who stand out. Yet they are the ones who (thanks to the type-accurate actors) manage to win the audience's sympathy almost immediately. It's not that the number of dead increases at a disproportionate rate, and it's not that you get rid of them in, for example, a branch shredder. It's actually about the fact that the degree of exaggeration is not limited in any way, and it depends only on the benevolence of each individual in terms of how much they enjoy their poetic (the amazing cinematography by Roger Deakins!) constructed world full of immoral behavior and the most diverse characters, in some cases taken to the point of caricature. These are things audiences will enjoy. Form and content go hand in hand in this case and after a moment's reflection, I have to give the film five stars. The Oscar for Frances McDormand is quite a mystery to me, but otherwise Peter Stormare rules forever!

Zinnemann's approach to the classic western subject matter differs in many ways from the classic scheme of the intrepid hero standing steadfast against the odds. His viewpoint is (like Leone's) strongly European, and thus Gary Cooper spends most of the film trying to get help to settle the score with the killers, rather than polishing his gun and waiting for the climax. Yet this gives the plot a much more human and believable dimension, solidly countered by the storyline with the newlywed played by the amazing Grace Kelly. The flawlessly written characters have clear reasons for their behavior. Especially the gradual falling away of "good old friends" (family, fear for their lives, cowardice) is portrayed wonderfully, and when you add to that the nervous countdown of less than an hour, it must be clear to everyone that this film is definitely one of the best!

The clock started turning back, and Brett Ratner went back to the 1980s. He brought along a bunch of hotshots using special effects and made an impactful action spectacle that could certainly be a full-fledged film in its own right if it didn't want to tie itself to the previous two installments in the franchise. The theme and the screenplay (except for the terrible dialogue!) are fine, but Ratner completely misunderstands the meaning of the plot and instead plays at being a narrator. The mutants are characters with no psychology, no history, and no distinctive dimension. The quantum of new arrivals, most of whom don't even have a name, is brought out around in a disorganized manner and any action they take is completely self-serving. Without these specifics, their emotions towards themselves sound either ridiculous or (more likely) completely incomprehensible. Only Mr. Singer's group of old warriors carry the film forward, but even they aren't enough to keep the mutants from (sadly) burying themselves. The first time it was a blast, the second time an absolute collapse.