DaViD´82

"Do you know the difference between not believing in something and having a little respect for it?" An alcoholic road-movie within the confines of a few seedy back streets of late-night New York, where the mutual trust and fraternization of a duo of losers goes to the bone. And then they say women don't understand male friendships, which they may not, but at least Elaine May does. Even though it seems to ride a very improvisational wave, it doesn't matter, though, as John Cassavetes and Peter Falk pull it off incredibly well. Still, the most interesting thing to come out of this is the character of Ned Beatty, in the form of a seriously conceived role as the perpetually grumpy "hit man from Wish", who laments that he has nowhere to park, that he runs through more gas than he makes in a night, that even his easy job is being spoiled by others, or rants that he's incompetent or something, etc. Such a fresh approach would have potential within the genre even today.

Feel-good story (not only) about ramen and the framing of (seemingly) completely unrelated "bachelor" episodes about the relationship to food, its preparation and social significance. If you have even the slightest fondness for ramen in particular, it's sheer torture to watch, as an irresistible craving for it is whetted within the opening moments. And you'll be stifling that irresistible craving for it for the entire two hours and long after it's over. Inhuman and unbearable, but purely as a film, imaginative, playful and uplifting.

A stare down of two alpha blind men and one maniacal Nakadaie. Too bad the "single-shot" action has been replaced by a "Zatoichi vs. lots of us" style. It's so weak in action, cluttered, without ideas, without choreography. It's only present during the naked bathhouse action. It often teeters on the edge of (un)wanted farce compared to the more serious entries in the series, but it never falls off that thin edge. A good episode no doubt, but the hype of the best in the series do it rather a disservice.

A passable forty-five-minute documentary unjustifiably stretched to feature length. After all, it is a "sequel" to the fate of the family from Our Planet. You won't learn much about Sumatran orangutans, even if you don't know much about them. Apart from some impressive drone footage from the forest canopy, you won't see anything "never seen before". By essentially not getting down on the ground, there isn't a lot of footage of the orangutan’s daily routine, and there should be here, but that was pretty much covered already by the original episode. It's eighty minutes of looking at close-ups of faces of these great apes chewing food, with a Wikipedia reading to go with it. A standard quality nature documentary for the whole family; nothing more and nothing less.

Guy Ritchie's Mission: Impossible wannabe. And not bad at all. It would rather rank among the more accomplished in the series (solid plotting, the action is both rich and old-fashioned), though it's the least inventive because it sticks too closely to the genre rules.

“Slay the Spire”, but they wanted to be a bit like Free Solo, but with a heist and a fatal love/hate relationship like in The Deepest Breath.

The quality of the material is undeniable, although (so far) rather tentative. The strangest edited film in a long time. One thing is that it's abridged to the point of shame, that even a layman feels that whole long passages are missing. Another thing is that even in the scenes that did make it into the theatrical cut, it's often obvious that those are also significantly cut; there's no continuity of shots, dialogue, logic, sequence. I have no doubt that when it is in its final, considerably longer form, it will be a very much improved and coherent experience that, while not historically faithful, will be spectacular in the best sense of the word. So far, however, these are merely impressive scenes with shoddy characterisation; more a feature length trailer than a film.

If redundant and unwanted prequels and remakes of genre classics have to be made because producers and the times demand it (too bad the audience doesn't), then please at least do it with care and in a form like the one here. It breathes the early seventies, it manages to evoke a dense disturbing atmosphere and specific imagery, and even if it doesn't avoid cheap scares, it doesn't build on them. The author is not afraid of more serious themes, so it's not "just consumer horror popcorn". The cast is excellent, the work with movement and (surround) sound is exemplary and it doesn't do the original any shame in any respect. Were it half an hour shorter, it would even reach for the lower rungs of the pedestal in the much-loved nun-horror subgenre of recent years.

Due to the imaginative nature of the whole concept (Japanese folk horror meets Dexter meets Black Mirror), it repeatedly cycles through (necessary) passages where one character explains at length to the other (read the viewer) "who, what, why, how". It doesn't have a breakneck pace, and it feels a touch longer than the billed two hours. The infodumping could have (and should have; even considering the author's abilities) been delivered in more cinematic language rather than through static conversations, with the special finale feeling like a live-action episode of Scooby-Doo. It doesn't matter that much, though, because the ambivalence of the characters, along with the concept, pull it off. A hard to describe study of (a)morality, where the responsibility for oneself, who is or isn't a monster under the surface, where the responsibility of a psychopathic personality for whom actions (don't) speak begins or ends, but delivered in a genre-bending trashy style of Takashi Miike. There is a rampaging monster, but there are no horror scenes. It's seen from the point of view of the police, who make their way to the crime scenes, and primarily through the eyes of one of the potential victims, who doesn't feel like a victim, on the contrary, she herself is often on the hunt. It's original, imaginative, thought-provoking and just plain good. However, there was room and talent involved to elevate this to another of genre chameleon of Miike's timeless cult films. It's intriguing, it's out of the ordinary, but for many it will be more of the "much more fun to discuss in the pub over a pint than to watch for two hours" variety.

Undisguisedly Hitchcockian. The script is very stupid, but what Brian De Palma spoils as a screenwriter, he makes up for mightily as a director. Plus, he's not afraid to use the skills of Ralf D. Bode and Pino Donaggio. More than one scene could have gone straight into the textbooks as an example of "how to slowly build a scene that evokes intense subliminal tension, shot by shot, without words" or "how to walk around a gallery for a few minutes and not breathe".