Remedy

A very bold and original affair. A film so intricate and complex in its essence that it would make for several stacks of studies from different fields. Psychologically very sophisticated, yet emotionally a bit austere (except for the ending, which is really strong and excellent). And Jeremy Irons gives a truly incredible performance(s).

I'm more than sure that whatever I write in my review can never fully capture everything that makes this film original, relentless, incredibly dramatic, more than brilliantly written and directed, scored, and thought out to the smallest detail. The role of Heath Ledger's life (ironically, literally) and his embodiment of the character of the Joker is damn near perfect, chilling, and in every way eclipses Bale's efforts at Batman. I've seen it many times and will see it many more.)

The best, most moving, emotionally powerful, and compelling films are those that tell stories of "ordinary", everyday life. What’s more, if the filmmakers manage to do without unnecessary fluff, frills, and all manner of unnecessarily distracting elements typical of thematically similar American films, they can create a work that hits you both with its pure humanity and chosen narrative style, which may be "harsher" at certain moments, but never slips into psychological terror or emotional manipulation. A social drama like mad where Katie Jarvis makes her acting debut and excels.

The brilliant screenwriter of the "loose" trilogy (which I reeeeeeally love): Amores Perros, 21 Grams, and Babel has written and even directed himself another equally interesting, emotional, entrancing, but mostly human and believable story. Again, the patchwork narrative is the actual key to the story itself in this case – I honestly wasn't particularly impressed with the first half, and feared that the film would continue in its (by then) unjustified vein of the despair and emptiness of its characters, with the punchline being some sort of disaster (like a mass car crash). However, afterwards I was really glad I was wrong.)) and got a climax like crazy, where I just shook my head in disbelief at and nodded appreciatively at the screenwriting skills of Guillermo Arriaga. My only complaint would perhaps be with the directing. Maybe that's not really a criticism, so much as a necessary comparison between Iñárritu's directorial approach and Arriaga's. For in the aforementioned trilogy (Amores Perros, 21 Grams, Babel – this particularly applies to the middle installment), Iñárritu was able to further emphasize the emotional and psychological depth of the story, primarily through the use of shaky camerawork and shots from seemingly uninteresting or extravagant angles – in this respect, Arriaga is a "mere" writer/director. On the other hand, Arriaga's directorial approach can be considered pleasingly civil, "clean", and quite consistent with the chosen subject, but perhaps too restrained and lulled by the almost certain fact that the script itself will ensure sufficient emotional impact.

Levin's source material is famously well-drawn, apart from the slowly (but from a certain point onwards very intensely) escalating tension and unpredictability of the various characters, and – most importantly – the character of Rosemary is portrayed in such a sensitive and evocative way that identifying with her person, her suffering, and her fate must necessarily become an essential part of the overall experience (both of the book and the film, as Mia Farrow is wonderful under Polanski's direction). All the positives as I described them above are more or less successfully transferred to the film rendering (with excellent incidental music to boot), and at least in the first hour Polanski succeeds more than adequately in capturing the power of the atmosphere as depicted in the book (the first scene during Rosemary's dream is unforgettable.) But then it breaks somewhere (I can't pinpoint exactly where in the film), and what Levin managed to do in the novel (i.e. to keep a permanent sense of tension and uncertainty) doesn't strike me as credible in Polanski's rendition (of course, I'm very influenced by the book and its quality, but given the excellent first half of the film, my expectations were quite high afterwards) and the ending... Sure, it's the same as in the source material, but the overall odyssey to it and the final denouement just wasn't handled quite ideally, and honestly I was rather disappointed... However, as a whole, it's a very strong 4 stars somewhere in the 90% range. :)

I really liked how Alan Parker managed to find a reasonable boundary for the overall "mystery". That keeps the film from coming across as far-fetched even in its most tense moments; on the contrary, it gives off a fairly realistic impression. Rourke is terrific here, and De Niro is no less.

The first half of the "seventh" probably pissed me off the least of all the instalments I've seen so far, because it sticks to its source material really faithfully (I understand that some trimming of the plot is necessary so that a viewer unfamiliar with the book doesn't get bored – but in this case it didn't much bother even me, a multiple reader of all volumes). Moreover – as we have become accustomed to, the script itself is nothing particularly great, the main assets are traditionally the directing, music, and the increasingly mature, believable, and extremely likable actors (the central trio from Twilight is really ridiculous compared to the Harry Potter trio.:)) A couple of very strong moments, which to my delight were filmed almost exactly as I had already imagined them in the source material, enhanced the perfect experience and increased my anticipation for the second part. 4.5 stars – seen in the IMAX cinema at Flora – 18 Nov 2010, 7:00 p.m.

Woody Allen, even at his rather advanced age, is incredibly funny, a brilliantly wry observer and storyteller who ingeniously hides his ironic messages underneath the charming, sens(eless)ual beauty of summertime Barcelona. The characters of the two (gorgeous) leads are at first glance more than a little different, but as their characters are put into situations in which they are more and more "tested" as the narrative progresses, the initial scattergun approach then completely disappears and the individual attributes of their characters overlap and merge. Vicky Cristina Barcelona can hardly be described as a romantic genre film because there is so much hidden under that attractive skin that would be worthy of several stacks of psychological, philosophical, or social studies, none of which would come to anything definite anyway. However, the way Woody Allen presents his views on relationships, family life, or morality is fantastic.

With Kubrick I've become accustomed to the fact that each of his films is superbly polished and complex, both in form and content. So from that perspective, A Clockwork Orange didn't particularly surprise me, but on the other hand, it didn't disappoint me in the slightest detail either. The difference from what I've already seen (Eyes Wide Shut and The Shining at the moment) is that I didn't know what I was getting into beforehand and I became absorbed in how precise, accurate, and clean it had been conceived overall. If I had seen A Clockwork Orange first, I believe it would have "shredded" me many times more (which I might have had trouble withstanding:)) I rate the film itself as a brilliant satire whose subject matter, far from staying with violence, also includes the media and the monstrously nefarious power of politics. I'm becoming dangerously fond of Kubrick.:)

An insanely over-stylized ride, with overdone and at times almost tasteless alternating between slow-motion and sped-up shots + "comic book" or game inserts, which on the outside look awfully cool and extramodern, but in the end feel rather superficial and cheap. I'm not saying that the production is devoid of ideas (it certainly isn't), but the creators failed to find some reasonable line between an acceptable "more modern" concept and mindless self-indulgence. The raw and authentic atmosphere of Kidulthood or Adulthood (the poster was a very pathetic effort) is here completely replaced with a clip extravaganza in which the director outdoes himself in how his "teaser" will give us more visual paint... On the one hand, it's a pity, because if Shank has any social subtext or resonance, it's largely drowned out in the director's aforementioned ultra-stylized procedures. So why am I giving it 3 stars despite this rather negative assessment? It's certainly not a boring affair that makes you yawn – on the contrary, Shank, with its brisk pace, offers an experience that is completely freeing and solves nothing, which I'm even tempted to repeat in the near future, but that doesn't change the fact that the aforementioned Kidulthood and Adulthood (also British films with similar themes) are at least a class above.