Nouvelles critiques - TOP utilisateurs·trices
Sam Mendes poetic, fragile and intimate. Empire of Light is a slow-moving film that explores the travails of personal life through Roger Deakins' haunting imagery and the minimalist setting of a single coastal street with an opulent cinema. Depression, loneliness, illness, racial issues, several strong themes are outlined in this slow-moving story of a handful of people sharing their troubles in a small British town. But the whole thing strikes me as perhaps too artsy, too static and lacking in energy. Olivia Colman gives a brilliant performance, but you can't find your way to most of the characters.
This determined effort by the French to make a gripping biopic fails in its handling of the story, which is unnecessarily elaborately edited and overwhelms the viewer with constant flashbacks that incoherently spill back and forth for basically the entire runtime. At times, the narrative style reminded me of Once Upon a Time in America – only much less well executed and often saying nothing. Dramatically is hardly average, but the acting is amazing, with Marion Cotillard putting on a fabulous one-woman-show. Also worth mentioning is the fantastic make-up of the protagonist. All in all, though, Edith Piaf is quite a harrowing 140 minutes. Out of duty to the legend, or as a showcase of masterful acting without anything. As an entertaining and inspiring film, rather not.
The third season abandons the classic episodic nature of the first two and builds a more comprehensive story that weaves through all the episodes of the most recent seasons so far. At first, the cards are laid out a little clumsily and slowly, and you don’t really know what to expect in the next episodes, but from about the halfway point on, the third season of The Mandalorian picks up a good pace and heads confidently towards a bombastic finale. There is no shortage of SW gadgets and quite a few amusing moments, especially around Grogu. As an epic Star Wars alternation it's only intermittent, but it is a feel good series almost constantly.
Sam Esmail serves up a slow platter of nervs with no easy answers. It will annoy everyone, but I always liked these questions and stories. A depressing drama with a satirical patina. The three-pronged attack is a very interesting theme. You'd think Europe would be entering the first phase, so good luck with that. A formally brilliant exercise, with great performances. Though they might as well have left the drunken dancing Julia Roberts on the cutting room floor. Since Netflix likes it long. P.S: A must for fans of Friends and Matthew Perry's death as a thoughtful marketing ploy? A joke worthy of Chandler.
French gangster-flick master Olivier Marchal shot a series on his favorite theme, the world of drug gangs, a genre where he feels at home, so it's exactly what the viewer expects. Although it does not reach the peak of his other works and does not attempt a groundbreaking story, the cards are quite clearly dealt, but those who are not tired of these tough gangsters from authentic France will certainly not be disappointed. Marchal has not disappointed me yet, and it didn't happen this time either. We have tough cops who are not afraid to get their hands dirty, they go from one trouble to another, and the viewer will like them. On the other hand, there are also two drug gangs. In one them there’s Murillo with the Indian and in the other there is Ali-Arab from Dubai, who comes to Marseille to take over the city. For me, it is the best character of the series, an incredible dude, a typical gangster, a role perfectly tailored. The only thing that annoyed me was that he didn't get more space, especially in the last two episodes, which was a shame. I liked that the series doesn't waste time with unnecessary side characters, we either follow the police or the gangsters, so boredom is definitely not a threat, and I appreciate that there is no unnecessary filler. Each episode contains one prominent French track, which was always great. Technically, of course, it's top-notch, the action is raw and uncompromising, but there isn't much of it, I definitely expected more, and in the last two episodes, when it should have kicked into high gear, it slightly falls behind instead, and there is no big action finale, which is a minus. But I watched the series in one go, it's my favorite theme, one I don't easily get tired of, so I had a great time, but I didn't sit on the edge of my seat. 7/10.
I felt like I was watching an "old" Japanese Godzilla movie made with new technology, so I think the purpose was served. A serious-minded story with interesting characters (which is probably the biggest difference from the current American MonsterVerse) that, like all of Japan, went from pre-war crisis to post-war crisis. All of that is naturally blended with wonderfully and deliberately dumbed-down ideas, such as the plan to destroy Godzilla, that I couldn't help but be excited. The digital Godzilla looks like a man in a rubber suit, and when he starts the demolition work and the Ifukube's theme music plays, it's really something. If I were 100% objective, I might give it one less star. But I don't want to.
A return to the roots of a monster that grew out of traumatic guilt, a feeling of failure and the rise of the atomic age, which Japan felt on its body like no other nation. Yamazaki and co. have filmed an organic blend of post-war family drama and Jaws on steroids, making clever and aesthetically economical use of their limited budget. Even though those limits are perceptible, they are always in service of the whole, which is both intimate and epic at the same time. Godzilla Minus One is the kind of blockbuster that Gareth Edwards tried to make, i.e. unencumbered by compromises and pressure from the studio. It is depressing and uplifting, naïve and touching. Everything that I require from a blockbuster!
An enjoyable feel good genre film from high school. It lacks proper humour, but is likeable, lively, nicely shot and fast paced. The girls start a fight club in high school and get they beat each other up. There are a lot of lesbians, but the characters are fine, the soundtrack is good and the final fight with the football players on the field is great. It was also unexpectedly suspenseful at times, so I'll give it a weaker four stars. I had an unexpectedly good time, plus I miss these comedies from high school and I don't think there was a better one this year. 70%
Talk to the hand, or combine an idiotic viral TikTok challenge, a metaphor for drugs, a drama about mourning and a horror movie about possession and you have the genre flick of year, in which cleverly malicious directing, excellent actors and a heavy atmosphere in which the world of phantoms that may or may not mean well by people increasingly crosses over into reality. A more than respectable successor to films such as Get Out and It Follows. I’m trembling!
Helena grew up as a child in the woods where her father kidnapped her mother. Now in her thirties, she's pulled herself together, but when she finds out her dad has escaped from prison, she knows she'll have to confront her own past, even if it has to be at gunpoint. This potentially interesting psychological drama or survival thriller is turned into a tired borefest with struggling actors due to the unfortunate narrative style and overall emptiness, it never really gets going and nor does it leave a significant impression.
The older Miyazaki gets, the less literal and linear his work becomes, the less regard he has for classic narrative concepts and the more he makes films solely for himself without any regard for others. And thanks to that, each of his new works that we have the good fortune to see for the first time is that much more fascinating and unique. So, it is time that we stop recounting which elements and motifs that his latest film has in common with those that came before. The most beautiful thing about Miyazaki’s films has always been that rare opportunity to forget about everything that we are accustomed to in run-of-the-mill audio-visual media and to let ourselves be carried away by the creator’s unique vision. Not only does one limit the degree of amazement by relating this film to the master’s previous work, but doing so also diminishes the distinctiveness of the film itself, which requires an open mind. Let’s also acknowledge that the title, The Boy and the Heron, originated as a meaningless placeholder in the heads of international distributors, who didn’t know what to make of the original title, which didn’t fit into any established categories. Let’s thus call the film by its real name: “How Do You Live?”. The original title pays tribute to the book of the same name, which was essential for the adolescent Miyazaki and even appears in the film. However, the filmmaker did not adapt it, rather only using its title as an allusion, as well as for a semantic framework for not only his new film, but for his overall work. Just as the concept of time fades away in the narrative and the elderly characters appear in their youthful form and the generations of a single family can come together at the same time, Miyazaki uses the question in the original title of his film to speak both to himself and to us about his own past and present. In his latest work, the filmmaker, who has devoted his entire productive life (which, in the case of the workaholic octogenarian, means to this day), uses another such narrative to give us an expressive look into the inner life of a young man buffeted by trauma, loss and apprehension about the life that lies ahead of him. In that inner self, new worlds that simultaneously exude uplifting boisterousness and the weight of inevitability are created using the basic building blocks of reality and fantasy, cemented together with emotions. Together with the titular question of how we will live in the face of an oppressive world, Miyazaki shows us through his protagonist how he himself coped with growing up in the shadow of war and the death of his beloved mother. Using the words of today’s audio-visual media, we could say that Miyazaki’s new film is the magnificent peak of his filmography (so far), as well as a meaningful prequel to it. In this film, Miyazaki presents to us the duality of beauty and terror, love and anger, and simply life and death, as he has done throughout his career so far. Each new Miyazaki film is like a half-read book left in the middle of a shelf by a missing uncle who went mad from reading countless books. Those films’ renown precedes them and evokes in us a feeling of awe at being in contact with something that will inevitably go beyond us, as well as foolish concern as to whether the films will live up to expectations. Therefore, we approach them only cautiously and sometimes, to our own detriment, we refuse to give in to them. But it is enough to break through the first wave on the horizon and let it wash away all doubts, and then just peacefully sail with an open mind aboard the narrative, which is held securely in the hands of the greatest master of cinema. And yes, again, it is a journey that overwhelms us with imagination many times, but it is also a journey from which we will always have memories of those peaceful moments when we realise that we are suddenly as calm and collected as the characters that we are watching. There is nothing more precious, more terrifying, more beautiful, more agonising, more turbulent or more comforting than each new Miyazaki film.
Gojira as a serious war drama? Yes, a return to the classic roots of the first two episodes. It's a terrible shame that most people associate the brand with Hollywood's Monsterverse, or that goofy Emmerich flick with Jean Reno that had nothing to do with Godzilla. They have no idea about the Godzilla phenomenon in the country of its origin, Japan, where TOHO has made a total of 29 feature films starring the overgrown lizard across six decades. Sure, the SHOWA era in the 50s and 60s in particular was very cringe, with Godzilla facing aliens and a monkey and making friends with a little Japanese boy. But this latest installment, essentially an homage, is a return to the rawness of the first two films from 1954 and 1955. Gojira is no pet this time, but a fierce creature happy to bite people in half and throw trains through the air. I was surprised by the screenwriting focus on human characters. Basically the entire first half doesn't leave the setting of the slums on the outskirts of Tokyo, dealing with a sort of small family micro-story, with a momentary detour to the sea, where the mines left behind are being fished out at the cost of their lives, only to have Godzilla start destroying the city after an hour or so, with a familiar musical theme from the TOHO films that brought a smile to my face. There are four action sequences in the film with each one getting better and better. It's unbelievable that this film cost less than Jákl’s Jan Žižka, yet it has the parameters of a big budget film, and by alternating the closed micro environments of one room with lavish CGI scenes, it very cleverly masks its budgetary constraints. Also, fans of the franchise will find references to old standbys, with Gojira's luminous shell playing a major role in this regard. There's also a noticeable sense of the lingering post-war and Hiroshima trauma of the Japanese in the film, just as you'd sense in the old films. It's a great homage, and if it is a reboot, I love it to.
A new short story anthology based on the myths of Latin America, featuring some of the best Latin American filmmakers, but unfortunately I found it mediocre. The police break into a house in El Paso and find a pile of dead people with one survivor who is taken to the station and questioned. He tells various horrific stories about his life, and that's the main connecting story. The second story is about a man who opens a portal to the underworld, and there's a really disgusting demon. This one was handled by the famous Demian Rugna, who knows how to work with gore and make-up effects. After the recent When Evil Lurks, I was expecting him to grind me again, but besides the demon, the story didn't offer anything particularly interesting. Better average. The third story is about a vampire who enjoys a night of killing people on Halloween, only that he forgot that it dawns an hour earlier due to the daylight savings time change. It's presented in a comedic style and it's quite funny, there's also some gore, so it's better than average. It was directed by Eduardo Sánchez, who has done The Blair Witch Project and Exists. The fourth story is the closest to Mexican folklore. A CIA informant falls captive to shamans and indigenous people and it features an interesting ritual. The setting and the make-up effects are nice, there’s a bit of mythology and it feels like the Mexican version of The Wicker Man, but again the potential was higher. This was shot by Gigi Saul Guerrero, who has Barbarous Mexico to his credit. The fifth story is again in a comedy style, where a boyfriend wants to kill his ex-girlfriend who is possessed by a demon. It's kind of a fight between the two where a even giant wooden dildo is used. It's by director Alejandro Brugues (Juan of the Dead), but I found it to be the weakest and least interesting. The ending climaxes with El Muerte arriving at the police station, where a bloody shootout ensues, and it's a pretty nice climax, but it doesn't elevate this anthology to above average. There's a bit of humor, blood and Mexican mythology from everyone, but I wouldn't give any story more than 4 stars. 55%
Proof that 4DX technology can work and be immersive... But only as a tailor-made short intended purely as a rollercoaster. Otherwise, this is a standard outlandish escapist short, where one is constantly falling or flying somewhere (let's not forget that it is an attraction) in an attempt to deliver a present to Gru.
Short. Scott's a stud, but he might as well have made Napoleon a trilogy instead of skipping through his life like a rushed history lesson. Phoenix is great, his Napoleon oscillates between aspiring strategist and lovelorn naif. But Kirby doesn't have enough space, so she comes across as weird. The leap from infatuation to divorce is very rushed. The battles, Toulon, Austerlitz and Waterloo, are exquisite, though. There's black humour, poking fun at politicians and their lies. Also, that brute force and tactics are above all, but are useless when it rains. P.S.: Almost on the anniversary of the Battle of Austerlitz.