POMO

It is precisely for this dark dimension and fateful depth that I generally like DC characters more than the brightly colored Marvel ones. Todd Phillips’ Joker is a stylish, psychologically well-conceived drama with a great acting performance by Phoenix that satisfactorily explains the birth of an important comic book character in the Batman universe, as it reveals the causes of the character’s deepening anxiety, leading to his total rejection of belief in anything good, and his logical self-realization in his revolutionary leadership of the disgruntled resistance against higher society. The film is a pop-culture vision of Scorsese’s Taxi Driver and is well connected to the origin of Batman both in its screenplay and atmosphere, with the typical Batman-like darkness. I won’t give this the full five stars because the film’s climax was neither surprising nor extraordinary – I was expecting, but I had hoped it wouldn’t be the “biggest” thing that the film would bring.

Addiction therapy for coping with withdrawal from sex, alcohol and sausages. And from living in the attic. The Golden Glove is a deliberately cartoonish and repulsive trip into one of the less illustrious districts of Hamburg in the 1970s and into its seedy pubs full of exemplary scum, with shocking brutality and creative deviance exceeding even the most daring cinema productions. The real artistic contribution can be felt only in the last, long and carefully thought-out shot; the rest is just alternative perverted fun for hardened curious individuals that is supposed to reflect a certain society at certain time. It is not possible to take the film seriously, but you can be sure that you will remember it for a long time, that you will repeatedly quote dozens of its scenes when you drink beer with your friends, and that no one will beat this for a long time. It might even acquire cult status. During and immediately after seeing this, I would have awarded it a maximum of three stars, but its bizarre value grows over time and you’re tempted to watch it again. [Helsinki IFF]

Jurij Bykov once again points out the corrupted nature of Russia, but also the necessity of the existence of social classes (because society simply cannot function in any other way). And as he wants to agree with several parties, using a sophisticated constellation of characters while at the same time being too literal (the film is pure mainstream), the distribution of audience sympathies among the players of this murderous game stutters at the end and feels more confused. However, thanks to its unpredictable development and quality technical aspect, Bykov’s film is still highly enjoyable. [Helsinki IFF]

Given that the only thing that happens in Take It or Leave It is that a guy raises a child by himself, this is a surprisingly power drama. This is achieved by replacing the usual single mother with a single dad, which is less common, and through the social storytelling skills of the directors, and also thanks to the cleverly conceived supporting characters who affect the lives of the father and his child. [Helsinki IFF]

Gone is based on a fantastic theme with potential, but that potential is used very poorly with respect to the drama and message that it wants to build and convey (family and children are the most important thing, we shouldn’t run away from them). The cheap production wouldn’t have been a problem if this film had a smarter and more meaningful script. [Helsinki IFF]

“A nice film for people” about an unlikely love full of obstacles (of course) between a vain, troublemaking Finnish woman and a nice Iranian immigrant (with a daughter). Aurora is a cliché with a heart that makes fun of Finnish customs. [Helsinki IFF]

What I thought the first half an hour of Queen of Hearts is that it’s a decently directed interlude to a “milf-stepmom something” video on Pornhub. And there really are porn scenes, with surprising details and naturalism. However, the irresponsible whim of the fifty-year-old married woman, which at first seems to be mere entertainment for a bored missus, turns into a family drama of unexpected proportions with an impact on everyone involved. The Danes are once again psychologically accurate in how they tackle the topic of the dark side of human nature, this time shown in a dangerous manipulative woman. The main character’s counter-attack when she is cornered by her husband is the most open admission of the most typical failing of the fairer sex. The film is surprisingly open and direct for today’s world. I’m kind of surprised that Trine Dyrholm wanted such a role.

I can stand rather primitive (from the filmmaking perspective) revenge brutality flicks with one-dimensional characters as an occasional guilty pleasure. The Nightingale, with its very limited narrative talent, is capable of being just that, but it aspires to be a significant testimony about the cruel times of the English occupation of Australia with the settlers’ haughtiness and cruel treatment of the Aboriginals and convicts, murdering toddlers, raping, killing farm families just for fun. After a very strong introduction suggesting a brutal revenge flick, the film gradually turns toward a more sophisticated goal, all the while looking like an expensive exercise of an average filmmaking student. [Helsinki IFF]

A study of the character of an Icelandic cop, dad, granddad and, above all, a recently widowed man who reveals the secrets of his deceased wife. This is not a detective story, but a very intimate drama about love beyond the grave, disappointment and forgiveness. The seemingly simple theme is made more interesting by the narration, in which the viewers have to answer some questions for themselves and the creative screenwriting/editing insertions that make the film distinctive (the initial showing of the different faces of Icelandic weather, police monitors, a falling stone, etc.). Ingvar Sigurðsson is excellent.

This film is saved by its black-and-white cinematography, framing and lighting, as well as by the depiction of the era with the right set designs and costumes. The narrative structure, however, is completely monotonous, devoid of any dramatic arc, artistic symbolism, more sophisticated editing techniques and internal emotional development, which could have been at least partially provided by (unfortunately completely absent) music. The Painted Bird misses most of what this type of film needs. The characters have well-chosen faces, but they only appear for a few minutes, barely speak and give nothing to the film. Their ugliness just contributes to the premature loss of the boy’s innocence in a nasty environment. And we come to understand that this loss is the point of the whole film only in the last few minutes, after almost three hours of monotonous stacking of the similarly looking and sounding episodes on top of each other.