Marigold

Such a terribly naive smirk at Malick / Herzog that even the implicit racism makes one laugh. Badalamenti's self-stealing impressive image rather falters, and the last third, where the protagonist, Christ / Marlow / Renaissance man establishes a department of alternative theater, is downright laughable. #kviff2015

The Postman's White Nights follow the cyclical and lonely existence of a man who is the only one who connects the inaccessible islands of the traditional village world. It gradually disappears, and with it the peculiar mythology, humor and Russian spleen, the cheerful mixture of difficult human destinies, streams of vodka and moments when, in the middle of the drunken blabbering of the character, they inadvertently touch the futility of being. Konchalovsky ironically connects the procedures of a reality show (fixed voyeur cameras placed in actors' houses) with moments that evoke the disturbing power of Andrei Tarkovsky's films through captivating work with image and ambient music of Eduard Nikolayevich, especially those moments when the camera image turns reality into a fleeting dream. The film thus creates a unique bridge between contemporary Russia, represented by the dehumanized set pieces of a city, rocket bases and non-sensual excerpts from entertaining television shows, and traditions - both film and folk. Konchalovsky remains admirably restrained. Although he uses fragments of classical art, muted by Verdi's Requiem or a quote from Shakespeare's The Tempest, he never slips into the shallow intellectual or, on the contrary, tabloid exploitation of ordinary people who open their privacy in front of the camera. The Postman's White Nights shows the peculiar simplicity that contemporary reality shows about country packages exploit with gusto, but they do so in a way that prevents the viewer from amused ridicule - because they inevitably find a piece of themselves in a bizarre cycle of aimless dialogues, daily routines and minor disasters. #kviff2015

No, Paolo. Once again, it is a cold terrarium full of strangely academized reptiles. And the orchestra just doesn't sound loud, only unglued, as if each section is playing a different song. I was a big fan of it, and after seeing The Great Beauty, I appreciate the greater relaxation of the tone in places and the tendency toward absurdity, but overall it feels similarly weighted and unconvincing. In addition, Sorrentino is increasingly successfully colonizing the hard-to-imagine territory between a folk comedy full of truth and snobbish "art", which in places becomes quite unbearable. Back to the small things, please.

It's a Czech-Polish film – let’s take a genre that we are not able shoot even according to the basic rules, so we turn the rules upside down and pretend to do it "differently". Everything is bad - the psychology, the cold, the logic and the construction. From any point of view, The Red Spider is a mistake. Without a doubt a game with the psyche of the viewer – unfortunately, only for as long as you can last before the film offends you with its naivety. #kviff2015

A classic festival stinker - over-done form, absence of any finer finesse, two-dimensional characters, forced twists, clumsy changes in storytelling tone, towards the end unbearably mushy and weepy... it reminds of an attempt to impress civilized Europeans with the cruel traditions of rural Turkey, which is portrayed here for the most part as an aggressive (incestuous) prison. I'm not saying there's no rational basis for it, but the film absolutely can't be believed. Extortion festival HLP with all afflictions... #kviff2015

Masterful camera, but as a whole uncertain. Unfortunately, Koza's acting is at a level where you can do almost nothing with the character, just passively manipulate him. The Roma boxer thus clearly feels like a deplorable object dragged down by his girlfriend, a dubious manager, an alcoholic coach, and the director. The flyweight tries to stay on his feet in all respects, but always goes down in the first round. The question is whether this strange, depressing hybrid of documentary and social drama is a bit one-sided and passé. In my opinion, Koza didn't engage me even on the minimum level, didn't convince me, and he didn't get me to react. At the same time, everything is fine with him in most respects. But it just feels empty as a movie. The best moment remains the juicy cameo of the chicken master Frank, who is the only one to add dynamics to the storytelling. Everything else in the film is lethargic - but not in a very stimulating way. #kviff

Such brilliant directing is not often seen. Every shot considered to the smallest detail, every perspective, change of tone, and an atmosphere based on a clear and completed intention. A subtle film about prefabricated spiritualism, crisis of faith, reconciliation with the pain and senseless cruelty of reality, and the search for lost closeness in an apartment where the spirits of the dead reside. The triumph of economical acting and the comedic talent of Janis Gajos. Inconspicuously clever, overwhelming, because it speaks about the most serious things with unprecedented ease and tender sarcasm - with one single mistake... an unnecessarily stretched and slightly awkward conclusion. But even so, the Berlin Directing Award could not have landed in a better place. #kviff

The first half unsatisfactory, the second downright agonizing and offensive. Incredibly amateur directing, nonsensical screenplay, a festival of screaming and hysteria. It's really not even a film - it's randomly patchwork formal mimicry. I wouldn't be surprised if the number of suicides in Bridgend went up again after the premiere of the film. I wanted to hang myself during the last 20 minutes. #kviff

Hardworking and teachable Beta of Spielberg’s Alpha. From the very beginning, Jurassic World has profiled itself as a "new generation" blockbuster, which consciously draws from its inspirations and at the same time tries to name the basic rules, regularities and limits of its universe. So, we find ourselves in a world where the good old attractions were no longer "jagged and big" enough, so it was necessary to develop new ones that are artificially boosted, and thus reliably deadly. Jurassic World is in fact a struggle between enchanted film nostalgia and the triumph of megalomania in the form of a genetically infused prehistoric lizard. Surprisingly, the film is clearly for the lovers of the great first film, to which it completely subordinates its mythology, logic and the directing style to the talented Colin Trevorrow. However, Jurassic World will never achieve the brilliance and smoothness of the attractions of Jurassic Park; it will always be missing a bit of it. Nevertheless, it has enough entertaining parts to hold one’s attention. At the same time, it has one big advantage - the growing ironic charisma of sweaty adventurer Chris Pratt. Is a new Harrison Ford being born?

My guess is that the screenplay was rewritten six times which, as a result, is not able to maintain even a hint of consistency / escalation in both storylines (family / seismologist). Horrible dialogues, rubber acting, tricks that can be bought for 100 million today, amusement park directing. For 4DX cinema, it can work as a tech demo. I am giving the film a single star just for its hint of an interesting ideological storyline, in which the almost shocking selfish concentration of the man responsible for saving others on his family plays a role. There has not been such a strictly individualistic disaster film for a long time that would place the restoration of America purely on the shoulders of capable individuals who fight only their private wars. Unfortunately, even this factor is there purely for laughter. This movie as broken as the world it depicts. The earthquake comes as a divine punishment when the characters have nothing more to say. And that's basically the case all the time with San Andreas. On my Richter scale of nonsense, it’s a pure ten.