Marigold

If del Toro had been content with a worn-out ghost plot, the Prince would not only be without a kingdom, but also considerably impoverished. Not that the horror part of the film lacks tension; on the contrary, it is built very sympathetically slowly, without unnecessary jump scares and disgust. However, after a while one finds out that it is simply going to be nothing more than a classic ghost story about the revenge of a wandering soul... Enough for a movie, not enough for a good movie. Fortunately, in addition to the familiar bottom, The Devil's Backbone also has a very nice top in the form of the functioning chemistry of the characters and great acting by both the children and the adults. The ghost passages alternate with rather dramatic parts, depicting an unhappy life in a depressed orphanage and the relationships of the individual characters. The director proved himself to have a very good feel for detail and for the spoken word (by the way, the Czech dubbing is surprisingly excellent). The Santa Lucía Orphanage thus does not act as a necessary backdrop for a terrifying ghost story, but as a living and equal partner of the horror part of the film. The result is therefore uniquely balanced, compact and honest. And, of course, quite individual.

Incredible nonsense, which wouldn't really matter if Vin Diesel had the comic "talent" of someone like Arnie. Unfortunately, this muscle man can't even be really embarrassed by the wooden acting and tries to act ostentatiously, sympathetically and comically. It’s too bad that he doesn’t have Arnie's universal grimaces and the woody stiffness that would make the role a little more fun. I've always missed the point of casting muscular "actors" in similar comic roles, but a certain type of dumb audience demands it, just like soulless gags, stupid action sequences, and an unraveling so touchingly stupid that you'd rather eat the kitchen blender. Vin Diesel should continue to annihilate pan-galactic monsters and not be changing shitty diapers... In terms of the latter, it turns out that mere muscle is not enough.

A nice surprise in the form of Jet Li's introvert stylization, decent content, which was particularly reinforced by Morgan Freeman, and of course brilliant choreographies, in which Jet Li's main talent - martial arts - stands out. If I take away the fact that this film is mentally exhaustive and predictable in its plot, Unleashed remains an intelligent and well-filmed spectacle that is more than just an action film. Leterrier quite pleasantly combined the features of Hollywood action with European slowness and harsh humor.

A utopian story about a romantic avenger. An appeal for revolt against the order. A provocative caricature of today's world. V for Vendetta wants to be all of these things. It is the first of these thanks to the great Weaving and the decent Portman. It wants to be the second thing too much. It could be better at the third thing if the realities were more elaborate. Overall, V for Vendetta is a great movie with many cons. The main downside is the Wachowski brothers syndrome - a simple and impressive parable to please as much as possible, go in all possible directions and lose sight of the path that leads to the goal. Such is the middle passage of the film, where the great onset of the introduction literally bursts in all directions and the film only manages to glue things together in the nice finale. I don't mind the activist touch, the shallow provocations. It's a sort of cute anarchy, supported by the protagonist, which combines black and white adventure movies with postmodern comic book superheroes. V for Vendetta does not lack great inner strength and persuasiveness. But it needs more sophistication and better screenwriters, unfortunately. Even so, this is confirmation of the rule that comic book remakes have sent commercial cinema in an interesting direction.

I like The Black Barons. They may not have much in common with the atmosphere of the 1950s, but it is a satirical, idyllic film, and that is also how it should be perceived. It's a film literally shrouded in period pathos, which Švandrlík obviously handles masterfully, and it's a film full of excellent actors and non-actors and a great summary of sketches and truly picturesque characters from the period panopticon. Everything is done with ease, naturalness and believability. A good comedy.

Actually, the same thing applies that I wrote about the second film. The first film is a comic book remake with a relatively unique spirit, good actors and a well-written characters. If I take away the sometimes somewhat affected dialogues and given predictability, the first Spider-Man is an excellent fun that makes sense where one expects it to. It has good tricks, decent tension, and a solid (though not captivating) Danny Elfman soundtrack. The second film is dominated by the presence and charisma of William Dafoe in civilian life, but he loses it as soon as he puts on the green mask, which simply removes his civilian demonic aspects. Even the effects are somewhat outdated and the subsequent film is certainly more impressive in terms of visuals. The first Spider-Man is also a bit "non-binding", more pubescent, more playful, and the real dilemma of the super-hero happens in the second part. However, this cannot be considered a negative. I give it an honest 4 stars for being watchable fun.

It is really hard to come up with ideas for this. It is the most worn out B-movie vest, from which at times we see a hint of tension and a scrap of a quite decent theme. Only a few places really shine, where Jean Claude plays out his acting talent in grimaces so mysterious that even the Mona Lisa looks like a readable bank clerk compared to him. As for the visual effects, I can only note with regret that there could have been more, because they are so magically unobtrusive and amateur that they are guaranteed to entertain. It’s too bad that the screenwriter did not lean more into the dialogues. It could have been a lot of fun and not just a few beautiful gems of the spirit, freely scattered in the visual waste. The way it is, Timecop just amounts to tolerable boredom about time travel.

Traditional American pathos in the embryonic stage, which somehow inadvertently evokes the sincere amusement and enthusiasm that German films of the era possess with their period rigidity, tension and naivety. Unlike the ideologically and visually brilliant and sophisticated German film, The Iron Horse instead amazes with some technical innovations and also with the fact that it essentially predefines the later form of westerns. You can only watch this film with a slight smile on your face, because the shallow mix of melodrama and the celebration of the work of railway workers is truly purely period-like. Nevertheless (or precisely because of that), this is a wonderful example of silent craft and a film in the true sense of the word canonical.

Together with Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, this the most visually perfect and aesthetically-refined film I know. Fritz Lang was able to give his monstrous work the perfect appearance, and despite the aging technologies the result had not lost its magnetism and suggestiveness even a little bit - on the contrary, the special old veneer only intensified the functionalist precision and Gothic expansion of shapes. True, the presentation of the content has aged somewhat, but the "midpoint between the brain and the hands must be the heart" factor is extremely urgent and topical as a result. The excellent visual aspects strengthen the plasticity of the environment – on the one hand, the almost ritual environment of the industrialized heart of the city, on the other the modern and luxurious gloss. The drama of the conflict between the proletariat (the underground core of the city) and bourgeoisie (the cream of society on the surface, led by the unscrupulous Joh Fredersen) is spread out for the current viewer on a very extensive area, but the constant invention and image precision, which, with its composition and shape concern clearly references the supreme expressionism, appeals to the viewer's enjoyment and teases the cells that can only be stimulated by a real film delicacy. Metropolis is formally an absolutely perfect film, which contemporary fast-paced artists, who lack even a hint of art despite the hi-technologies, can only look upon enviously. It is also a film that has a clear and convincing message. Both of these components form an ageless gem, which I like more and more after each viewing, and to which I feel an ever deeper respect.

I can't help it, but Arnie using his alternating 3-4 standard grimaces with more intensity than ever before does not make for good acting. The wooden muscle man walks through the Bond exhibition with the elegance of a scared high school student, and one has to think that beating up villains suits him better. James Cameron did a pretty good job, but I really don't understand why a film with such a sparse plot has a full 144 minutes, when the content would fit into 90 minutes and the jokes into 20. Some of the action sequences (especially the one with Harrier) are great, whilst the seductive dance by Jamie Lee Curtis is really sexy and certain gags are perfect (for example, the one with the battery in the camera is still quite current today). Unfortunately, I was bored for most of the film and tried to find something truly supportive in this mix of family comedy and spy action. It's definitely not a story that fizzles out, it's definitely not Arnie's awkward etude, and it’s not even the bulging bodice of Jamie Lee and Miss Carrere's killer body... It's not even Cameron's direction... so what the hell is it???