gudaulin

Some filmmakers only remain associated with me through one title, whereas the other parts of their work are either too weak or for some reason I miss out on watching them. An example of this is Antonioni with his film Blow-Up, a synchronization that never repeated itself. Jakubisko is actually in luck, as he is a director of two films for me - Sitting on a Branch and, above all, The Millennial Bee. His subsequent movies caused me greater or lesser doubts. I did not know his early works, so I approached watching The Deserter and the Nomads without prejudice. In just half an hour, the initial astonishment turned into tormenting shock. Jakubisko resigns from any logic, and this is manneristic craziness that cannot be explained even by taking (one) drug, more like a turbulent reaction of the body to the ingestion of several conflicting drugs. Jakubisko perhaps wanted to deal with the demons of World War I in his own way, but he did not have enough humility and distance for a social statement to emerge. Instead, he ground everything into a pseudo-artistic visual mishmash. Overall impression: 10%.

Have you ever seen a baseball player during a baseball game? I mean the moment when he attentively watches the pitcher's movement, carefully prepares the bat, and calculates every fraction of a second of his decisive hit - to place the ball, zooming at a terrifying speed, right in your crotch. That's the feeling I had after a few shots of this horror spectacle, which film fans honored on FilmBooster. Not only that but in the following minutes, it seemed that the batter, frustrated by an unsuccessful hit, ran toward me with the bat in hand and delivered a series of painful blows to my most sensitive areas. I have no words for what happened on the television screen - well, no decent words. The expressions that come to mind are usually used when a hammer falls on my little finger or when my foot slides into dog excrement. The absence of any logic in the film characters. A screenplay that could have only been created as a joke or a cruel trick by filmmakers on the audience. A police commando, to be sent on an extremely important mission that reeks of a huge disaster, consists of members whose stupidity surpasses all limits, they must have been cast in a global casting call. The inhabitants of the house affected by the epidemic scream, wildly swing their arms, and without exception, do the last thing that would come to mind when facing a real threat. The constant instructions to use cameras to document what is seen here lack any logic, although this doesn't matter because practically everything lacks logic here. However, this dreadful experience raises the question of how sane I was when I gave the first film a rating of 3 stars. I must have been slightly affected by dementia or influenced by some chemical. Such a decline in quality is not possible between two parts and practically the same crew. Overall impression: triple underscore zero.

Please do not be offended, but in this case, in my opinion, the king is completely naked, and his amazing self-confidence and the laughter of those who need to confirm their intellectual status do not change anything about it. The collection of festival awards is just proof for me that members of festival juries are sometimes quite peculiar...

I'm sorry, Mathieu, but your attempt unfortunately does not fit into the fairly broad definition of what I can still consider a film. I understand that for a gallery visitor, a five-minute view of a painting can greatly shake their imagination and aesthetic sensibility, but for me, it's primarily a static bore. Overall impression: 5%.

In its time, it was possibly the most controversial film, and that is saying something because it was the 1970s, full of wild antics and echoes of the sexual revolution, with the invasion of pornography into the public space. Fierce debates between guardians of morality, for whom Salo was the devil, and those who considered the same film to be the pinnacle of tormenting art to which contemporary critics simply did not measure up, filled all media outlets, and censorship even got involved. With the passage of time, Pasolini's final film no longer impresses me as something worth arguing about, nor is it a shock or surprise. Pigsty already convinced me that if Pasolini's final films deserve any attribute, it is unfortunately the word "boring." From my perspective, 120 Days of Sodom can be considered a perfect artistic failure. Just compare it to Klimov's masterpiece Come and See, where the filmmaker does not shy away from brutal shots, but they fit organically into the narrative, only make up a small part of the runtime, are never gratuitous, and yet have a devastating emotional impact. Klimov often only hints at things and works with the viewer's imagination and expectations. Pasolini is embarrassingly literal, static, and unoriginal. Furthermore, someone with a complicated and, dare I say, distorted sexuality should not have worked on this similar subject. It is practically impossible not to notice how often the camera satisfies Pasolini's homosexual desires and fantasies. Such a sensitive and demanding theme would have to be handled by someone bold, yet artistically exceptionally talented. I can think of Haneke or Lars von Trier, for example. The majority of Salo is filled with tedious, boring, and irrelevant stories of young women or pseudo-intellectual ramblings of the four owners of the human circus. Pasolini couldn't secure the presence of quality actors, which is especially evident in the fascist bosses who seem to have come out of some slightly artistically disguising soft porn, and their sliminess borders on caricature, sometimes even crosses it. Only in the last five minutes, when unusually brutal scenes of violence occur even for a jaded viewer, is Pasolini able to grab one's attention, but unfortunately in a manner that is far too cheap. Overall impression: 10% for the theme.

Originally, I had no reason to waste time with this series, as there are many shows and significantly less free time. The flood of categorically formulated waste and terrifyingly negative comments sparked my curiosity as to whether it is really as bad as the legends claim. After the roughly 20 minutes that I spent with the snowman, I must confirm that from time to time public opinion aligns with reality. Attempts at situational gags can be divided into two categories - roughly half and half: the first completely miss the mark in terms of not only my concept of humor, but I fear also anyone's concept of humor because it is desperately awkward and unfunny. The second half has potential, but it is killed by bad acting, and incompleteness, and it's rushed; I can imagine that it would work if there were different actors. Unfortunately, that's not the case. Coincidentally, I am currently watching the British series The League of Gentlemen, where the truly inappropriate humor is often on the edge, but what the Czech group is doing is far away from this not just by one, but several galaxies. It reminds me of the stories from the members of the Monty Python group about how their sketches were created. They spent hours working on them, refining, transforming, adjusting, crossing out, and rejecting. Here, I am afraid that the Czech sketches were created on the fly by public television. Overall impression: 5%.

I don't even know what I was hoping for when I started watching this 80s TV detective show. I just wanted to remind myself of what TV productions were like back then and compare it to the current state. Anyway, this is the weakest work by director Svoboda that I have seen so far. Boredom, dullness, desperation. Today's TV producers have something to build upon. Overall impression: 10% for the actors.

Yes, I realize that within its genre or within cinema as a whole, Dead Snow doesn't represent any imaginary bottom. On the other hand, my comments were never objective and simply expressed a subjective feeling about what I saw. Subjectively, I can say that I wasted 3/4 of an hour of my life - anyone who finds it strange that so much time can be wasted watching a movie with double the running time, I'll reveal that I fast-forwarded through some parts out of sheer desperation. Even within what Tommy Wirkola is striving for, the film doesn't work and rather evokes boredom and a feeling of wasted opportunity. And I'm not even talking about how I completely missed out on his idea of humor and entertainment. The camerawork is like a few slaps in the face and the screenwriter deserves a long stay in a penal colony, where he would have time between work in the quarry and sleep to hone the most basic elements of his craft. Overall impression: 10%. Dead Snow assured me that I would continue to strictly avoid Tommy Wirkola's work. He may refine his craft, but our cinematic visions are completely different.

This is nothing more than stylishly directed nonsense. Maybe it's just a message for those who claim that the king has luxurious golden embroidered clothes adorned with jewels. Unfortunately, the king is naked and the only remarkable thing about him is how proudly he displays his nudity and pretends to have depth of thought when he is as flat as a sheet of paper. Overall impression: you can't go into the negative, so three underlined zeroes.

I accidentally stumbled upon Elephant White and it only reinforced all the stereotypes I have about action B-movies. A bunch of clichés, a disregard for the logic of the plot and the behavior of the characters, an invincible hero, stupid criminals, a very simple script, and on top of that, an uncharismatic main character. It is certainly not the bottom of its genre, but I simply don't like these types of movies and they have nothing to offer me. Overall impression: 5% for the exotic backdrop of Southeast Asia. In my opinion, Kevin Bacon can do so much better...