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Gregory Peck in one of his defining roles as a true man in the most honest form of a western. The camera wanders through the countryside for long minutes, while at other times the story rushes forward. But even half a century after its creation, Mackenna's Gold remains a genre film that, despite its surprisingly pioneering visuals, does not break boundaries, and yet remains unique and unforgettable in every aspect. This is not to say that it isn't somewhat headless in the final act, or that the tooth of time hasn't left its mark on certain groundbreaking scenes, but I would still give anything to occasionally encounter such sincere and heartfelt classics in theaters.

Sometimes I'm happy to be wrong. And I haven't been so wrong for a long time as when I was proclaiming that Tom Hardy, with his certain type of grim expression, could in no way be a suitable Eddie Brock. But he is not only good in the role of a talkative stubborn person, he is excellent. When combined with the thankfully presented second voice in his head, the comedic potential of the resulting situations, and the imaginative action scenes, Venom is a surprisingly enjoyable bit of entertainment. I would obligatorily send the authors of reviews that qualitatively equate the efforts of the Sony stable with the level of such bombs from the beginning of the century as Elektra or The Punisher to go fetch the DVDs of the aforementioned films and refresh their memory.

Full force in all directions. Jack and Ally manage to be grandiose, majestic, melodramatic, and in love. And that's why I'm so glad that Bradley Cooper, despite his maximum scale, can afford such swagger in the director's chair that he stops at all the key plot points. He knows that everyone is waiting for intersections where they have a few seconds to think, and deep down, he knows that this burning moment will decide the direction the rest of his life will take. That's why even the audience, along with the main duo, gladly pauses at such crossroads a little longer, to let every choice resonate, to let every correct decision spread warmth throughout the body, and every wrong one cut decently deep. Both participants give outstanding tour-de-force performances and provide a well-deserved ride for the film, which will first demolish box offices and then the various awards ceremonies before quickly becoming a golden classic. We're far from the shallow now.

Sometimes a more grown-up Disney movie, sometimes an uncompromising fight for survival, but throughout the entire running time, it's an avalanche of emotional decisions and breathtaking visual scenes. Almost every other shot of this (almost) inaccessible version of Brother Bear deserves its place like a picture on the wall. And I don't care deeply that it's not a groundbreaking story and that the dialogue sometimes comes across as pathetic phrases. Alpha tells a tale of such archetypal and almost life-giving stuff that the resulting avalanche of emotions loudly drowns out any criticism.

A Series of Unfortunate Events of the Worst Bodyguard of All Time. Among the more entertaining findings is the fact that the plot fragments definitively collided during architecture lessons and a few failed attempts by the thwarted suitor, while the sadder ones include shock that even such a beauty as Arielle Kebbel doesn't look good in this shade of nonsense. The dead end of literary adaptations is finally reaching its finale and I hope that nobody ever returns to it.

The best film in the last thirty years with the Predator in the main or a supporting role. Which is weak praise and a truly dismal business card for the series' sequels and spin-offs, since there are inconsistencies in almost every scene. For every good line, there is at least one awkward one, and every great action scene is followed by a WTF moment (all thanks to Thomas Jane and the overly used dogs). While the casting of Boyd Holbrook and Sterling K. Brown is on point, Olivia Munn's unfortunate presence is a disappointment, as I cannot believe her as a doctor even for a moment. Similarly, Jacob Tremblay, who never fails, seems to have stepped out of a different movie. But beware, this is unstoppable and relentless entertainment, and after almost falling asleep eight years ago while watching Predators, this is a big step forward, though unfortunately with a sad lack of care. Shane Black must have known how many fans look up to him as the savior of the entire franchise, and his sometimes self-parodic approach must have surely shocked many of them.

Season 1: – 80% – **SPOILER ALERT** – A captivating action hit that unfortunately is most often discussed in relation to its atypical, sometimes jerky animation. Otherwise, it is a gradually escalating supernatural chase involving three sides, where paradoxically I root less for the main protagonist and more for the pursuers. The main hero has the misfortune of having an unexpected character trait added to him in the middle of the series, revealed by his sister, who informs us that this seemingly appealing character pursued by catastrophic events is actually a calculating villain. Personally, I consider this an unfortunate decision, as it contradicts this direction later on, but I am willing to forgive it in the face of how the other characters endeared themselves to me. The kind-hearted Kaito and the tireless Tosaki in particular right away became some of my favorite anime characters ever. And finally, what most viewers found their way to Ajin for – the action. Every ghost battle, as well as every shootout (although sometimes unnecessarily exaggerated due to incomprehensible decisions by various military units), fascinates with each blow and gunshot, and the excellent final episode was one of many things that made it a show where I couldn't sit still due to the tension. Season 2: – 85% – The forced alliance between Nagai and Tosaki brings pleasant tension between the individual characters, more room for previously secondary figures (and Shimomura and Nakano make great use of this space) and a more tightly woven storyline. The whole world has united against the growing Satou, inevitable losses and crucial defeats logically occur, and everything is heading towards an uncompromising finale. And I enjoy it both during the light-hearted training passages and in the calmer moments (the surprisingly impressive prison episode) and of course during the action symphony with an increasing number of ghosts. My only complaint is the main villain and the never-ending series of unsuccessful attempts to apprehend him. The concept of Satou as a person who just wants to have fun and, thanks to his passion for the most challenging video games, automatically has what it takes to defeat various government, police, secret, or anti-Ajin units doesn't quite sit well with me, and it is the only reason, but a big one, why I cannot give it the highest rating. Whether we get a third season or not, I will ultimately consider this work about immortal antiheroes fighting to be the modern answer to the legendary Death Note. More action-packed, faster paced, better balanced, and – as is often the case with newer additions – simpler and more audience-friendly.

I like the most famous animated addition to the cyberpunk genre both in feature film and (as one of the few) in live-action Hollywood form, so after putting it off for many years, I finally headed into the series version. And despite the presence of all the familiar characters and familiar backdrop, I was in store for an unexpected sobriety. Gone are the action symphonies or salvos of thoughts that cannot always be adequately grasped or explained in a few sentences, partially gone is also the specific mood that is inseparably part of Section 9. Stand Alone Complex has turned into an episodic sci-fi crime story, which is occasionally spiced up with unexpected genre twists, but in its essence remains the same. A file of cases that collide with politics on a large scale, and to a lesser extent with economics, sociology, or history, and are concluded with a modest action scene or nostalgic conversation. For a while, I was able to accept this approach, but when the central storyline with the Laughing Man was also inconspicuously developing, which in the first three quarters of the series seemed more out of obligation than anything else, I wasn't exactly singing for joy and I struggled in vain to understand why Ghost in particular achieves such a cult level of popularity in the rankings of the most popular Japanese series. But then comes the last seven episodes, which reach such heights that I almost had to make sure I was still watching the same series. Instead of meaningless dialogue, actions are taken, I care deeply about the fate of the main characters, and in retrospect, the viewer understands even the very gradual pace or occasional lack of progression of individual plots or episodes. Stand Alone Complex is a very specific vision, and although I have several reservations about it, it also contains so much uniqueness that I am willing to help it in the ratings and I am glad that it ultimately lived up to its famous name.

Season 1 – 85% – An elegant struggle with the eternal pitfalls of awkwardness. Ricky Gervais has somehow managed to evade me until now, so I was even more curious about his beloved creation, intertwined with a plethora of familiar faces. And since this plethora includes the likes of Kate Winslet and Patrick Stewart, I can only stare in disbelief at what fitting subject material the concept must be, where someone simply likes to make fun of themselves. Although in the end it primarily consists of bite-sized pieces, in most cases they work more than gracefully and provide instant good feelings. Season 2 – 70% – Paradoxically, I would attribute the decline in quality to the overarching storyline. The torment of the sidekick was more impressive in the realm of rehearsed barks, the rocket ride to fame in the form of a banal sitcom quickly loses its appeal, and although it works on a dramatic level and Gervais has plenty to play with, it's doesn't fit. The second flaw is also the fact that it exaggerates what clearly entertained the viewers last time, namely Maggie and her gift of putting her best friend in the most impossible situation and teasing him through her innocence. And that bothers me a little because her intelligence drops too steeply, just like Darren's ability to arrange even the simplest detail. There are too many storylines based on Andy's problems, caused by his loved ones unintentionally, and that's exactly the type of humor that I don't find particularly funny. It disappoints me quite a bit because the guests are possibly even better than before, especially Daniel Radcliffe, who keeps delivering one funny impossibility after another. The Extra Special Series Finale – 80% – Something tells me that this is the direction the main creator always wanted to go. Instead of self-reflection, there are punchlines about how money and fame can't replace the feeling of friendship. Scenes in the predominantly British mood are cautiously imbued with pathos, yet purely civilian and surprisingly moving. I understand that for viewers who came for the usual dose of celebrities, just in a larger package, a similar heartfelt approach must be a harsh awakening. However, I have always enjoyed serious finales of comedy endeavors.

Season 1 – 100% – In its uniqueness, almost indescribable – and possibly unrepeatable. Pose works as the most primary family drama, as a reflection of its time, as a specific social study, as a compilation of great songs, and last but not least, as a true TV milestone. It will make you laugh and cry and will shock you with a multitude of acting discoveries (Billy Porter's portrayal of Pray is already iconic) and simply won't let the viewer go. That's why I don't understand why such an extravagant event passed through television so quietly. The usual cable TV hype would fit perfectly here like never before. Season 2 – 90% – Even though the first magic of the unseen is gone, I would still have a hard time finding something better that was born in the TV series field this year. It doesn't reach the highest rating this time, because there were too many "special episodes" for a modest portion of ten episodes, but I still can't get enough and probably will never be able to. Pose is so uniquely touching and sincere at the same time that it keeps my head spinning, whether it's tears of joy or genuine sadness. Billy Porter is still the king, Indya Moore is the princess, and a special trophy should go to Angel Bismark Curiel. While Papi was more or less of no concern to me, he steals every moment in the second season and becomes one of the most lively and likable characters. Season 3 – 90% – I understand that producing crowd scenes in these times must have been hell, and the whole production must have swelled in its demanding nature, but the news that the third season would be the last season took my breath away. So even though it's a huge loss, because Pose is a series like no other, at least it will leave mostly on its own terms and whatever can be concluded in terms of the plot, will also be concluded. Each beloved character has an incredibly emotional end to their journey, sometimes sad, sometimes melancholic, sometimes genuine happy ending, but all variations are in line with the characters developed and never, not even in moments when kitsch and melodrama hold hands, do they cross the line where I would take everything away from the creators. For example, the music scene "I swear", which with a bit of bad luck could have turned into an over-the-top syrupy song, resonates with me the loudest out of the entire season. Please cast Angel Bismark Curiel and Indya Moore in all of Ryan Murphy's new projects.