DaViD´82

A great portrayal of the melancholy of the summer rains and the overall "in the rain" atmosphere handled brilliantly and without exaggeration. Of course, what's the point when the carefully built atmosphere of this feel-good film becomes an annoying festival of sentimental whining during the final quarter of an hour.

Superb and chilling. Perhaps the only thing that is disappointing is that everyone is portrayed the same and that they are pushing so hard on the tear-jerker; the story is emotional enough in itself not to leave even a complete football ignoramus emotionally scarred.

Just five minutes of shared custody of this bratty little monster who would drive Batman to wring his neck, never mind his “no weapons, no dead" policy. Twice over. No wonder his mother refused to recognize him at the end. But regardless of his dear son it’s “sort of weird". Dozens of dead, gallons of blood, poked out eyes, kids crucified... It’s simply a little too uncompromising for the world of DC (and other) comic book movies, but at the same time slap dash and cheaply extolling American values. But thanks to solid and frequent action, there’s no time to get bored. At least I can say that.

In God We Trust. A heavy social drama lightly crossed with a bleak crime storyline; it’s a combination that isn’t easy to handle. However, Ellis scores with the unusually mesmerizing to almost hypnotic genius loci and by gaining your sympathy for the characters in unrelenting (and candid) tour of the quagmire that is the dark side of Manila, doing the same for the local tourist industry as Elite Squad or City of God did for Rio de Janeiro. It’s been a long time since I felt such sincere sympathy as I did here. And thanks to suffered through it (in a good way) with the characters, the ending is powerfully emotional and genuinely moving.

For my taste, this is too talkative for this type of movie, but when Redford doesn’t happen to be promenading through the wilderness in his stripy red bath robe or if the filmmakers aren’t throwing stuffed wolves at him (in the light of which, even Lugosi’s battle with the octopus looks real), all we are left with is a melancholy trappers (non)western about the impossibility of escaping one’s fate. The nice thing is that Pollack didn’t let himself be tempted by the audience-pleasing, legend-inspiring part of Johnson’s life and so the part about revenge takes up barely the final half hour and the ninety minutes before that focuses purely on his escape from civilization in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains in all types of foul weather. And it’s all the better for being so unusual.

Czech-Korean-British-French-American collaboration on an unusual sci-fi about a “train that doesn’t stop, never stops, never stops anywhere" where people behave like animals. And it’s obvious who made it. The same as in his other works, this refuses to follow the rules, sometimes making it seem a little gratuitous and exhibitionistic, but most of the time it benefits to movie.

A must for lovers of modern Scandinavian design; no other series has such stylish interiors with such attention to detail that it makes the heart rejoice. The series itself however isn’t such a reason for rejoicing (apart from the finale double episode where, amongst other things, they work nicely with the biggest Norwegian historical “skeleton in the closet"), nor for moaning for that matter. The greatest shame is that from the line taken in the opening episode, which is somewhere between State of Play and Larsson’s storyline about editorial staff and work in “Millennium", gradually shifts toward a more common version of the modern Scandi thriller. I repeat, it’s a shame, but it isn’t bad. Why? Because even so, it is sufficiently high quality and suspenseful (and it is probably no coincidence that the last two episodes have a "Nesbø feeling" about them), but it’s just rather ordinary; there’s a surplus of Scandi thrillers, but no quality thriller about journalism in sight. The damp and drizzly atmosphere and the subdued acting performances, and the clever work with genre clichés are pleasant. What isn’t pleasant is what plagues most of these productions: convoluted grafted-on over-elaborateness.

A movie with two different halves. In the first, Marvel departs from its usual, inoffensive colorful safe family content into as yet unexplored waters of the more seriously-inclined comic book movies like those from DC. And believe it or not, this does the Captain unexpected good; the hand-to-hand, nineties style action is exactly what Marvel movies so badly needed. Unfortunately, everything falls apart after the bunker in New Jersey when the movie suddenly turns into a parade of one dumb deus ex machiny after another. Which wouldn’t necessarily have to matter in a standard, painted “ha, ha, ha" Marvel cartoon, but it seems really out of place here. When you add the unnecessarily disproportionate length, the unused potential of certain characters and with regard to all preceding contact action in the form of utterly unsuitable, commonplace CGI, editing-party finale, then... This way, this is certainly a good Marvel movie (and one of the three best so far), but nothing more. And the pleasant first half promised “more" in a style that I have been waiting for from Marvel since the first Iron Man.

Despite the somewhat unfortunate final five minutes, this is an achievement that finally brings this directing duo out of the deep shadow of their masterpiece (yes, Internal Affairs). It was about time.

As soon as this flops over into a type of Hitchcock, it loses its seal of originality. Because it begins to strum on well-known genre strings, but nobody knows for sure how they will sound. Not that it all goes to pot at that moment, but it does become rather more ordinary, while still remaining sufficiently unusual, uncompromising and dirty mirror holding to stop it becoming just another run-of-the-mill genre movie, immediately forgettable as the closing credits come up.