DaViD´82

The collaboration of the McQuarrie-Cruise duo is a well-established brand promising a modern take on old-school action in an edgy, thrilling and adrenaline-fuelled setting, and that is absolutely true this time as well. Many things could be praised, but the best way to describe it is that even though we've seen chases through ancient buildings in a small car or action in an out-of-control train countless times, the way it is paced, plotted and delivered here is both breathtaking and riveting in a way that will make you sweat your shirt off from the sheer dodging and clenching of fists. A genre film that defines (though does not redefine) the genre to the core. Too bad about the apparent lack of closure and the bland villain. Hats off and pure enthusiastic curiosity about where they want to take it in the finale.

Amazing “single-take” scenes, solid stunt choreography (pity about the blatant CGI in the explosions, crashes, etc., though), without any bollocks, dialogue outbursts or wisecracks during the action; it just rolls along at an exciting pace. And with sheer action filling well over half the running time, there is undeniably much to be genuinely excited about. But... It trips over its own feet with the opening and the ending. The first action set-piece happens in the 20th minute, and all that mandatory “let’s pretend we have a story and characters” filler would be sorted out in five minutes in a timeless action flick. Also, the climax has the problem that the final showdown (itself solid) is significantly overshadowed by all the previous action passages.

“Never have I seen such a maelstrom of bad taste and sheer magic.” Two feature films in one, each about something different. One is riveting, bold, frantic, brash; like a Mad Max: Fury Road of the film industry during the silent era. The other is also very good, but classic in themes and concept. It's about nostalgia for bygone times, inevitable progress and the love of cinema. Both are superb, though each in their own way. The first is an ocean liner better, for it is purely Chazelle's. The latter, for all its qualities, comes across as "merely" Chazelle's respectful homage to Sunset Blvd., Cinema Paradiso and the like. The worst thing for both films, however, is that they pretend to be one, which doesn’t help either of them.

A cut of soliloquies with greats reverently remembering a great. It's not entirely about Leone, it's not entirely about his body of work, it's not entirely about his legacy, it's not entirely about his influence on world cinema, it's not entirely about nostalgic memories and "set stories", it's not entirely about personal aspects. Basically, it’s like a shallow tour of Leone’s world. Useful only for someone who has no idea that Leone ever existed, that he had some of the best cinema to his credit and left behind a distinctive style that influenced many.

"Where she dies is where we stay." A riveting standalone prequel to the Sheridan-Verse. Two decades after the end of the Civil War, a rough journey of a few pilgrims in search of the dream of a new home or beginning. A journey through a captivating inhospitable landscape where dog eats dog, where uncrossable predatory rivers or lack of resources are the lesser of the constant challenges and obstacles. An uncompromising western of a journey through the wilderness. So excellent that it is all the more disappointing that almost every episode has superfluous filler. Watchable, solid, but useless and not deepening or serving anything. If it was condensed into seven or eight episodes, there would be no reservations. Anyway, everything that we like (or dislike) about Sheridan is here by the handful.

The previews are clear; the author doesn't even hide the fact that he hasn't had a peek at the same things you have. In the first more serious (not to be confused with serious) half it goes much better than in the second half, which pushes the deliberate guilty pleasure envelope a bit too hard. But even then, it’s good, playful and stylish. Only that it should have been either all in the style of the first half, or in the style of the second half from the beginning. This way, it feels somewhat like they took the opening of the first Rambo and the ending of the third. It doesn’t feel like a whole in neither style nor concept. That said, I wouldn’t mind a prequel set in the Winter War with a proper budget.

A documentary about the cruel, old and uncompromising beauty of motorsport, and F1 in particular. The danger, the challenge, the fascination with speed, the rawness of what is depicted, the appeal to the viewer, the cruelty, the glory, the precision of the best of the best. Yet it is not a documentary in the classical format; it is a reportage, a documentary, a tribute, a vignette and a film. Which is also its only problem, it’s a bit of everything. But it works, nothing else in living memory brings the mystery F1 to life so well and evocatively. It’s chilling. Repeatedly. At the same time, it's not about accidents and tragedies, just as F1 itself is not and never has been, however undeniable they are to this day. A must-see for those addicted to F1 up to the mid-nineties and beyond. Even after more than four decades since its inception.

As a Mario/Nintendo fan, the heaps of references in every frame kept me entertained (from the obvious ones to those hidden in the second and third plane for the connoisseurs). And yet, I wouldn’t call this a particularly good adaptation, despite the solid pace and the spot-on stylization. The main point of schism is that the Nintendo imaginative playfulness for the whole family is replaced by outlandishly primal infantilism for the little ones. As a result, both my son and I were more or less satisfied when we left the cinema, though each for different reasons.

The concept of an old-school adventure film, the kind that is no longer in vogue today. This is Dumas to the core. Admittedly, in terms of style, it's dirtier and grittier than usual, with a few (not bad at all) subplots of its own, but otherwise it's exactly what you'd want from a modern adaptation of a classic. The production design, the locations, the costumes, the choreography of the single take action, the pacing, the characters, everything is so classic Three Musketeers that is almost surprising. I expected (or rather feared) a greater mincing of the source material in a (post)modern package. As soon as I left the cinema I immediately looked to see when the second part would come, and sadly, it isn’t until the end of the year.

A two-part in-depth (it's three and a half hours long) look at the rise, career, private life and fall of Boris Becker. From the position of world No.1, a phenomenon of his time, a breaker of several (often still valid) tennis records and the best, there is a hell a long fall. To say he hit rock bottom is a gross understatement. Boris's tennis career was and is fascinating material in its own right, with a private life plagued by addiction to pills, relationships and the media alike. The downfall in the form of trusting the wrong people, a tendency to sugarcoat "the story needs to be spiced up, I mustn't be boering, even if I'm deliberately lying to myself", bad investments, a career as a commentator, almost diplomat and coach, and of course the financial problems and jail. Gibney has a way with athletes, interviewing Becker during the budding debt scandal and days before he went to jail, and he is not afraid to bring up burning issues – he did it once with Amrstrong and he’s done it here. He managed to get everyone, from top players, coaches to loved ones, in front of the camera. That alone would have been strong enough, but it's not just about Becker in the end. Psychology and the proverbial "in tennis you play against yourself first and then against your opponent" are discussed at length from the point of view of several players. There are several additional themes, the careers of top athletes who have been multi-millionaires since they were teenagers, the use of slurs, etc. There really is a lot and often much more depth than one would expect. And as an added bonus, it's delivered gut-wrenchingly, with Morricone's music and the introduction of famous players with titles like Leone’s. And as with Armstrong and cycling, it's all accessible even to those untouched by tennis because it's all about a fascinating fate in the first place.