novoten

This seemingly careless directorial style, in which every scene has its place, is slowly starting to bother me. Because it has never been as impersonal in David Fincher's interpretation as it is here. And if a dramatic thriller, whose essence lies in relationships, lacks even a hint of chemistry or tangible emotions between Nick and Amy, that's a disappointment. And if they also lack it in those moments when they are supposed to be a couple in love or overflowing with hatred, I realize that I am not getting nearly as much as I would like – and probably should, considering the topic. The complicated journey of the lost girl and the people around her is significantly less sophisticated or surprising than it promises most of the time. Relationships may be hard work and a science – but they're definitely not like this.

Roads go ever ever on, under cloud and under star; yet feet that wandering have gone turn at last to home afar. For some, it's a barrage of computer tricks, for others, a pleasant adventurous ride, for still others, it's a meaningless war massacre with no added value. And for me, it's a fairytale preceding The Lord of the Rings, creating one big unforgettable narrative. Peter Jackson is still like Peter Pan so many years after The Fellowship of the Ring. Like a boy who stayed in his own Middle-earth and refuses to grow up. And it's only thanks to him that Bilbo seems like a good friend, Gandalf the wisest mentor, and Thorin as the true main character, with whom it's worth experiencing every sword stroke or chilling breath. And in the cave, in Esgaroth, on the battlefield, in the mountains, and in the Shire, I discovered again and again that their world is also mine and not only were my expectations fulfilled, but they were also easily surpassed. Today, two trilogies have finally created a separate hexalogy, and I want to stay in it forever. So once again... In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt's striking feature film debut may have a significantly smaller scope than it tries to appear, but when it fully flexes all its muscles, it works perfectly. Life truths, however wrapped in seemingly trivial issues of pornography or personal space, are sometimes just a few short sentences away from us. And to put such thoughts on paper, to film them, and even to play the central sixpack character takes courage.

An assault of pure physicality that more than anything else harms its own aura. With the label "action spectacle of the year" or even the decade, the expectation automatically arises that something more will emerge from The Raid: Redemption than just a bloody brawl. It doesn't – and it's not necessary. In the catalog of Indonesian fatalities, the boiling adrenaline was most heightened by seemingly inconspicuous but deadly Mad Dog Yayan Ruhian. His main performance, in which he gradually transitions from rubber jumps, twists, and turns to gathering the last remnants of strength for the hardest blow, literally takes your breath away.

So many colors, explosions, lightning-fast one-liners, and mischievous Minion escapades that even the more mild-natured individuals will still be overwhelmed by it. Switching to regular storytelling after this requires you to take it back down at least four gears. But precisely because in this whirlwind nobody suffocates themselves or the viewers, I have to fully applaud it in the end. It took me a while to get used to the yellow avalanche again, but already during Gru's sneaky dance, I was tearing up with laughter and during the final boy band interlude, I felt that you simply can't help but love this.

One of the tastiest spices of the entire Cougar Town – the buddy chemistry of Andy and Bobby – does not stand on its own as a separate work. It brings a few smiles and reminds me why I love Bill Lawrence's work so much, but that's about it. A knee-jerk attempt really only for the most loyal fans.

It seemed that this type of sequel (where everything is even more absurdly entangled) had already died out. The fun with Jennifer Aniston is tiresome this time around, the underused Christoph Waltz is surprising, and above all, the central trio does not work as a group of broken losers whom I want to cheer for, but as a pair of incapable fools occasionally slowed down by the moderate Jason Bateman. The clearer the buddy atmosphere is in front of the camera, the more painful the outcome.

Both the The Hunger Games and The Hunger Games: Catching Fire were, in terms of adaptation for young adults, fantastic and perfectly escalating, but for me they simply couldn't match the quality of the source material. Although in the case of the latter, it was a close call. It is precisely because of this that I was more afraid of them splitting the finale, as its political intrigues and gradual war tactics were by far the weakest (and yet quite numerous) passages in the book. But fate and the producers presented the established creative team with two newcomers, the screenwriting duo of Danny Strong and Peter Craig. It's hard to say how these two came together and what led them to The Hunger Games, but it was a decision that definitively shifts the entire saga into self-sufficient territory. With enough time and emotions, all of which hit the right marks thanks to Jennifer Lawrence's unwavering and, on the contrary, growing acting talents. From the first The Hunger Games: Mockingjay, a constantly suspenseful spectacle has emerged, which despite its apparent aimlessness never loses momentum for a moment, and it offers its share of unforgettable moments (Katniss's song, the rose, the final twist). Now Lawrence and company have nothing to prove, because they handled the most critical moment with shocking finesse and have in front of them the even more treacherous task of adapting the pure gold that is the second half. And yes, I am just as anxious as I am excited.

I had been missing the unmistakable atmosphere that accompanies the queen's dog and his faithful servant for those few years since the end of the second season, and I enthusiastically welcomed at least one more short return to familiar grounds. Though this time around we spend considerably less time at the main family's residence, it is definitely not some insignificant quick story. With luck everyone who managed to captivate us in the original series will show up, there will be a significant dose of new characters, and over time, some devilishly nourishing open ends will appear. The fundamental problem of the entire Book of Circus remains the question of how the viewer will approach the uncompromising conclusion. In some moments, the relentlessly ruthless performance unfolds so chillingly that I almost refused to believe it for a while. It is only due to doubts about whether the entire spectacle had to end like this that I'm giving it only an above-average rating this time. Thanks to its stable quality, it was just a whisker away. For fans of Ciel and Sebastian, an absolute must.

Attempting to make a Tank Patrol into a living monument to the soldiers of World War II is a lot to promise, but it falls apart when David Ayer's genres start clashing with each other. I would believe both in the invincible crew of the Fury and in tears during drunken confessions, but once these moods meet and regularly alternate, it's over. And it's a shame because Brad Pitt and Logan Lerman can effortlessly develop any smallest supporting storyline to the edge.