MrHlad

Netflix calculated how to make a hit: take a lot of money, put in famous faces, come up with an uncomplicated story, and cram something in there for everyone, ideally in a way that the result won't turn anyone off, regardless of age or whether they want action, adventure, humor, exotic locations, or basically anything. The result is Red Notice. Dwayne Johnson scowls and occasionally punches someone, Ryan Reynolds talks and pisses Johnson off, and Gal Gadot looks good while sadly confirming that her acting talent is more suited for photos or silent films. And overall? Overall, it doesn't offend, it doesn't surprise, it passes pleasantly in the first half and drags in the second, and when there's a problem somewhere, Netflix throws a few million dollars at it and routinist Rawson Marshall Thurbert pulls it all together into something that's about two hours long, with a beginning, middle and end, and everyone will watch it anyway because we're just curious about the actors, right? And then we all forget about it in an hour. I get what Netflix was going for and I respect that they did it, but I'm certainly not going to settle for this uninteresting routine and I'm not going to praise it. It's like it was all made by a machine that figured out what people probably want to see and served it up to them.

Viktor lives with his mother in a dilapidated cottage, Kateřina with her husband and daughter in a luxurious villa. They don't know each other and their lives have nothing in common. But in an instant, they come together, and it will have cruel consequences. Emil Křižka delivers a small but damn impressive psycho-thriller, relying on an interesting way of storytelling, where you can never be sure who to actually root for in this mess. A psychologically crushing and physically very uncomfortable film that you'll be thinking about for a long time.

I like Edgar Wright, but the more serious he gets, the more I have a problem with it. So I'll always prefer Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz to the shallow and over-stylized Baby Driver. And now over Last Night in Soho. His new release reminded me of Guillermo del Toro's Crimson Peak, a horror film that was great in every way, audiovisually and genre-wise. Only that with this one, I felt like the director was fulfilling a dream of his, paying homage to a favorite genre, a favorite era, and a favorite form. And does it brilliantly, as if he had made the whole thing for himself rather than anyone else. On the other hand, Wright's play with color, the great soundtrack, the gorgeous costumes, and his typical audiovisual games from time to time still work great. And Thomasin McKenzie is excellent, with Anya Taylor-Joy not far from her, but it's not enough. With Last Night in Soho Wright makes mostly himself happy, which I wish him well, but I won't applaud him for it.

Marvel promised a slightly different comic book movie, and they delivered. But now, an hour after leaving the cinema, I don't know if that's a good thing. Eternals is a very ambitious film, but perhaps too much so, because it tries to tackle a lot of themes in a small space, and with a dozen heroes to boot. As a result, there's not much time to meditate on faith, fate, mythologies, religion and responsibility. Even at 160 minutes, it ends up feeling truncated in a way. On the other hand, the face of the new Marvel movie is indeed markedly different, with Eternals not even trying to reference other superheroes much (instead they make fun of DC) and confidently going its own way and in a rather different direction. I really don't know if that path is the right one right now. Chloé Zhao handles the action and all the attractions with aplomb, but she was clearly making a more ambitious film from that was supposed to be the start of something bigger. And at the same time, she had so many things to deal with in it that it just couldn't be done without compromises and shortcuts. So far, I'll say that Eternals is interesting rather than downright good. But it is very interesting.

It was good, but beware, the trailers are deceptive. The Last Duel isn't nearly as epic as Kingdom of Heaven or Robin Hood. In fact, except two short and fairly small battles and a final clash, it is a fairly intimate affair that usually gets by with a few people talking to each other. But that doesn't matter at all. The Last Duel tells the story from three different points of view, and logically the one who is currently telling the story is considered the biggest hero and the purest character – after all, a douchebag will rarely consider themselves a douchebag – and it's up to the viewer to figure out who's the real hero, who's the victim, and who's the opportunist. That's the only major complaint I have with The Last Duel. It's all a bit too easy to read, and there's unfortunately not enough room for any hesitation or ambiguity in the end for the film to provoke the discussions the makers obviously wanted. Or rather, it did, but it's probably very easy to agree. In any case, Adam Driver and Jodie Comer are great, Matt Damon is very good, and Ben Affleck clearly enjoyed being able to play a character that suits him while being distinctive enough not to get lost next to the central trio. Additionally, Ridley Scott manages to pull off the visuals and sell the dialogue in the intimate scenes, but then when he gets the chance to really step it up, he doesn't hold back. Plus, thanks to the form, and indeed the triple retelling of the events leading up to the fight, it moves forward very quickly, making the two hours go by unexpectedly briskly. Go for it. And preferably to a hall with the best sound possible, the duel is a blast visually and especially in terms of sound.

Michael Myers escapes a fiery inferno and goes back to mowing people down. This time, however, he is confronted not by Jamie Lee Curtis, but by a town full of people who have suddenly remembered that this serial killer exists and has somehow hurt them all. And so Myers mows down one anonymous person after another, only to have it all come to an end. And the film leaves a rather uncomfortable feeling that David Gordon Green and Danny McBride may have meant well, but unfortunately in execution they negated the entirety of the previous installment and made a mediocre at best murder mystery built on an ambitious but completely misguided idea. This franchise can do better than that. And so do these filmmakers.

If I were to write that the Venom 2 was as uninteresting and unimaginative as the first one, I'd be bullshitting, because I don't remember anything from the first. But it's certainly uninteresting and uninspired. Tom Hardy's cool, so is Woody Harrelson. Michelle Williams and Naomie Harris are solid actresses, but they're given little space. In fact, everything has a little space. Venom isn't even a hundred minutes long, and unfortunately a good third of the running time is taken up by weird sitcom outtakes about Eddie Brock and Venom's cohabitation, where the film tries to pretend it's a variation on The Odd Couple, only with an alien. Occasionally, the film remembers that it has a serial killer and his symbiotic friend in there, so it skips to a random action scene and try to pretend to be horror. For an hour, nothing interesting actually happens except for Venom and Brock's arguments mixed with Harrelson's overacting (you can’t play a deranged serial killer in such a small space in any other way), only to end with a final clash with a lot of pretty solid visual effects and an unexpectedly solid length. And then the end. I won't remember any of it in a week. Again.

A very dignified farewell. Daniel Craig clearly enjoys the whole thing much more than in Spectre, and Cary Joji Fukunaga proves to be the perfect man to direct. No Time to Die has a great opening and an excellent ending, and it plods a bit in between, but not to the point where it hurts. Fukunaga is unlucky to have been given the task of retelling the story that was so poorly picked up by Sam Mendes in Spectre, and it was probably no fun to make sense of it all and milk some emotion out of this latest Bond flick. Fortunately, Fukunaga manages it quite well, despite Léa Seydoux being an extremely uninteresting actress and playing probably the most boring Bondgirl ever. Unfortunately, Fukunaga couldn't get rid of her, so I take it he did what he could. He's much better in scenes where he can invent new things and not work with what's left. The action is good, imaginative and different every time. And the whole No Time to Die changes its style unexpectedly and often, so that at times it's reminiscent of Craig's Bond films, at other times it makes you think of the days when Roger Moore or Sean Connery were Agent 007, and in some scenes the film can be surprisingly gritty and uncompromising. The whole thing could have been shorter, had a more prominent villain, and the middle part does drag a bit at times, but overall it's a film that's definitely worth seeing. And Craig can be happy with how he parted with his license to kill.

It's a nice smelling fart. The second one is probably going to be great, and the promises of a blast are huge, but I don't really see why it couldn't be a blast now.

Clint Eastwood embarks on a journey to Mexico to find his boss's son and bring him to America. The cocky teenager and the old curmudgeon don't get along, but on the way home they find they can learn a lot from each other. This time, Hollywood classic Eastwood made a very slow drama that relies on his charisma and nothing else. And unfortunately, it's not enough. Clint is still the man, but unfortunately the unoriginal and predictable plot trip him up. A mediocre and unremarkable film that you can do without and that Eastwood's filmography could do without.