NinadeL

One of the best modern musicals for children. The whole thing is so magically and sensitively stylized that I don't have a single problem with it. The trailer may be too bold, and it may thus lead a bored viewer in the wrong direction. Yet it's playful and colorful, Brabec works well with the individual characters, his wife ably seconded him as an artist and the whole thing fits together nicely. Nobody tries to be more than they're worth. Even Dara Rolins just shows off how good she looks and sings and everyone is happy. Bílá is cute, Roden is funny, Balzerová focused her favorite field of an old comic ... and Nikol Moravcová understood that she is like a picture (from a dream), and that's good enough. Surprisingly, the children also act decently, and the naive song lyrics are not awkward and actually manage to move the plot along. The 3D is definitely not distracting.

The aesthetics of Flower Buds may be somewhat attractive and different. Yet the situations outlined here say nothing, go nowhere. Finally, even the film about the film said that it was just a fairy tale for adults and that's how we should approach it. The debuting director Javorský and the Polish actress Pikus do not form a team I would like to return to. However, certain aspects can be traced elsewhere - the Vietnamese community in Miss Hanoi, the ugly depressing small towns currently shown in every other series... or overall, thematically, something can be traced in certain wholes, but individually it's no pleasure.

The new series takes place at the turn of 1928 and 1929. A lot has changed. The main romance doesn't have as much of a spark anymore, although Plánková and Koleník still have a lot to offer. They are replaced by Vyorálek and Boková. Logically, the main theme is progress, and the two daughters of the Valenti family, the doctor and the chauffeur, are interesting. With the Škvors, it's also nice to see emancipation (Arichteva) and elegance (Studenková) moving forward. Emphasis is placed on the legacy of the legions and the complex relations with Germany. The army has luster and traditional values still mean something. Yes, the sets, costumes, and make-up are again very loosely inspired by the real Republic. This series is a beautiful example of how that time period is viewed today and as such will only be appreciated years later. This is not a meticulous documentary, but a fictional recollection of an era we would like to remember. And that comes at a price. With or without a believable crime story.

Of the 7 episodes of the new series, the choice of authors is again worth noting, especially the idea of linking the first two stories according to Petiška. Things are a bit worse with the paraphrase of Divá Bára / Divná Bára. Zábrana and Hrabal are very interesting miniatures with an excellent atmosphere. However, the whole did not go far beyond the much more mature Slovak cycle Nesmrteľní (2010), which approached the classic stories with both more courage and respect. Czechs still have a lot to learn.

Of the 15 episodes of the first cycle, only a few are worth taking note of. Hrdina, for example, is a beautiful little drama set in the environment of homeless people, with a great cast including Taclík and Issová. Diamantová svatba is magically nostalgic. Přirozený talent is better than many similarly conceived feature films with the scheming Langmaier. In S jedním uchem na veselo, we encounter a clever reflection on the four leaf clover phenomenon. No one could help but fall in love with Marika Procházková in Májová romance doktora Mráze. Dobrodružství is a great genre surprise by Czech standards. The title song "Škoda lásky" is the best thing Karel Gott and Karel Šíp have ever made. And finally, Manželka gave Linda Rybová one of the best opportunities of her adult career.

This wouldn't even pass as a small TV film, and yet it's being sold as a feature film. Where there is nothing, there is not much to talk about. Theoretically, it has a decent group of actors, but none of them have anything to do. Xindl, Jícha, Míka and Cieslar signed on to something that anyone in their right mind would have rejected. But at the same time, they did nothing to at least make it interesting.

The 55th feature-length Disney Polynesian Odyssey with a female protagonist? This is obviously a very good idea for a Disney movie. I didn't really believe it at first, but those classic attributes need to be updated all the time and if this trend has been going on since Ariel, there's no reason Moana/Vaiana shouldn't work. She too is a teenager without fear or reproach, she too has a pair of favorite animal friends, and she too is braver than many of the adults around her. She is agile, has a pure heart, and the most beautiful eyes. And, of course, she loves her grandmother. This makes her a good role model for little kids. As a result, it's another film that has a chance to be domesticated.

A nice operetta theme that was liked across the Czech Republic. The pace of the film adaptation is to be appreciated, the theatrical premiere directed by Oldřich Nový was in December 1933, and the film premiered in January 1935. The ambitions were great, but the colorful final scene was dropped and we will never see the true color of those lilac roses. However, there are some really good ideas in the B&W, especially Pešek's etudes on the pink balcony, Nedošinská's classic transformation is charming, and by far the best is the spicy Maria Tauberová, a real operetta diva of those years.

Stelibsky's classic operetta "Nám je hej" in its film transcription offers the pure essence of popular Czech cinema of the second half of the 1930s. The main comedians are Plachta and Pešek, with Marvan (the father) and Nezval (the son) as competing lovers. The love object is none other than the charming owner of the photographic factory Hana Vítová. The films include, of course, Pištěk, Trégl or Kreuzmann, as well as my loves Marie Červená and Marie Norrová. So what's the hitch? Perhaps only the fact that the sympathies directed towards the Czechoslovak Army somewhat obscure the fact that it is an operetta and music is really scarce in it.

If we were to situate Joseph Lanner (1801-1843) on the timeline of the development of Viennese operetta, we would find him in the era of the founders of the Viennese waltz, together with Johann Strauss, the father. And, of course, in the place of great inspiration of the king of Viennese operetta, Johann Strauss' son. While Lanner himself did not live to see the creation of the Viennese operetta, his melodies have become an integral part of this cultural heritage. It was only retrospectively that his work was made into the independent operetta "Alt-Wien" (1911). The complex mirroring of the Czech and Austrian film versions of In the Little House Below Emausy cannot be analyzed satisfactorily, since we only have the Czech version. Its character is described by the film's caption "from ancient times." In retrospect, it may seem that it was a mistake to cast as the main lovers the not-very-experienced Mandlová and Novotný, but the coloring of the other characters played by Pištěk, Hart, or Nováková ideally complements the photogenic nature of the young people and the whole straightforward story of the failed Pygmalion experiment. The setting of the inn and the contrasting castle salons together create a subconsciously familiar environment of memorable stories from old Austria, and if the postman's tune is still heard among the main melodies, there is no reason not to be lulled into happy dreaming.