novoten

The jazz-filled atmosphere of Noir York as a perfect introduction and the disturbing voodoo flood as a strongly negative contrast. With mystery thrillers, I simply expect more balance, and the crescendoing climax, as impressive and perfectly precise as it may be, is not enough for me. The perfectly stylized depression narrowly loses out to the unnecessarily overdone Louisiana. 70%

A great fairy tale adventure for those of us who have been waiting all these months and years for it to come, and a grand spectacle that becomes so huge in the end that human senses cannot absorb everything and a regular director can't control it. And it is right here where it shows that giving so much time to a movie sometimes really pays off, to the last minute and dollar. Although the compassionate ethnic/ecological message did not hit the mark in my case, everything else is part of an opus that has never been seen before. An awe-struck 90% for a movie whose sequel will have no rival on a global scale.

To all opponents, all mockers, and all cynics, access is once again prohibited. Because here, the suffering from a broken heart continues, desperate actions have no end, and for true love, everyone would go to the ends of the earth (and maybe even further). What the book pulverized in endless repeated reflections on the same topic, Chris Weitz has managed to transform into a romantic/adventurous spectacle. Tolerance is still necessary, but those who did not reject at first should not do so now either.

Robert Zemeckis may no longer be revolutionizing the film world overnight, but at this pace, I may find a new favorite genre in his animated tribute. While Beowulf was so intoxicated by its grandeur that it forgot about the viewer, there is no such risk with A Christmas Carol. Perhaps it is the unstoppable Jim Carrey, the improved longevity of the characters, or the captivating three-dimensional special effects, but the three spirits have unexpectedly brought me strong Christmas-winter magic I haven't had since maybe six years earlier with Love Actually.

A perfectly attractive environment, tension in every bit of dialogue without any clues to the reveal, and an end to endless self-indulgent digressions. Quentin Tarantino has matured.

The courage to try to continue at the same cottage a quarter of a century later still surprises me. And I'm not even talking about daring to present viewers craving for another comedy with a hundred-minute reminiscence of something long gone. But some things don't change – Cabadaj comes to the forefront, Mácha is the most appreciated comedic character, and Převrátil serves as the audience surrogate. And yes, the supporting female cast is once again incredibly annoying. The nostalgia and melancholy, however, surprisingly feel good. I saw myself in the main characters, I rooted for some of them to turn their lives around in the right direction, and even though I sometimes felt that the theatrics were unnecessary, I was still interested in how Radek John and Ivo Pelant wanted to bring this script to a conclusion. That may ultimately be the stumbling block. Great gestures, big words, and marginally intensified serious situations don't really suit Snowdrops and Aces. Still, a huge surprise by the standards of Czech film.

While the sci-fi part surprised me with remarkably glaring logical loopholes, blind plot alleys, and unresolved "mythology" of the time jumps, in the romantic/dramatic aspect, I adored Robert Schwentke's work, rooted for Henry, and felt the movie was less about being trapped in time and more like trapped in love. Nobody has been as lovable as Rachel McAdams portraying Clare in a long time.

The genre of children's fantasy was unable to fully satisfy many viewers, so all the hatred had to escalate. Will Stanton and company thus became sacrificial lambs, even though they were surprisingly successful considering the zero (or negative) expectations of The Ancient. We may not have dragons or flying, but there are witty lines, likable guides through this newly discovered world, and above all, a sufficiently magical atmosphere. It is not the fantasy that its fans would want, but this sincere family atmosphere is much more pleasant to me than, for example, the false grandeur of The Chronicles of Narnia.

While the plot may seem far-fetched at first glance (who would allow themselves to be lured into this situation despite the clear risks?), the escalating storyline, clever jokes, and all the appropriately adjusted romantic clichés work marvelously. However, the biggest highlight is Sandra Bullock, who looks and performs best out of her entire career and every one of her lines or gestures melts me completely. When I add the natural chemistry with the reliable Ryan Reynolds, my satisfaction grows far beyond the level of a charming romantic comedy.

Stories about marriage and sex made for a book that is almost genius. That's why Shameless had already lost right from the beginning, but it came out of the duel with relative honor. There had to be some kind of coherent story, but it definitely should have been closer to Oskar. Zuzana's actions are very ambivalent, ordinary, and unfortunately without a point. Material taken from Michal Viewegh should have been a sure bet in a screenplay, so I really don't understand why I had to follow this or that tired storyline. The strongest moments naturally come when a replica from one of the short stories appears, when one favorite story connects with another, and surprisingly, the newly added Nora is a great guiding storyline. Everything at least seemingly works, but in too many places, I clearly felt that something was missing, not to mention the variability of moods in a few of the storylines. And Jan Hřebejk, fortunately, has by now finally discarded his former mask of the savior of Czech cinematography, which he so incomprehensibly claimed for himself, but he should reflect on his chansonier/melancholic syndrome. The mutual similarity of the presented musical environments is already alarming.