Marigold

Episode III is a desperate fugue in which the wandering torso of the Jedi order tries to patch up what it can to end up in utter disillusionment and agony. Lucas indulges the viewer with his spectacular tricks, but almost from the beginning of the film, he amplifies an evil hunch and amplifies the dark undertone that culminates, both audibly and visually, in a scene where Anakin makes a fatal decision in the abandoned Jedi Temple to help his seducer Palpatine. Although George Lucas is a mediocre director, this scene and several others (especially the destruction of the Jedi) are among the most emotionally powerful in the six-part series. In Episode III, he manages to maintain a rhythm and pace that escalates brilliantly towards the end to the wild staccato of hopeless scenes that form the imaginary highlight of the new trilogy. It is unusually naturalistic and completely resonates with the new atmosphere that Star Wars has received both through new episodes and, above all, with a series of computer games. The impression is monstrous, urgent, immediate. There's not much to add – Revenge of the Sith is proof that all the mistakes of the previous two films were worth it, as they built the bridge to the truly grand finale. Complaints – the action scenes are too stretched and suffer from the classic visual gluttony of the digital age, of which Lucas is the guiding spirit. Too many colors and effects lead to clutter. John Williams' music is kind of stiffened, but it works at key moments. Yes, and then the few reminisces of incredibly starchy love dialogues. But very few. Too few to ruin an episode that really doesn't have to be ashamed to be in the company of A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back.

I can't say I wasn't amused, but I didn't have as much fun as I did with the cartoon of the same name, which, in addition to the great bon mots (which the film partially preserved), also offers non-transferable animated humor. The film tries to build musical numbers that are fresh and nice, but not nice enough to smooth out the impression of shallowness. Otherwise, this French film maintains the decent standard of the previous film – good effects, good actors, average direction. Just enough to watch during the evening, but if I had to choose between the cartoon and acted versions, I wouldn't hesitate.

Ridley Scott's Gladiator is said to have launched a major comeback of historical-mythological epics in the year 2000. And it is said that Kingdom of Heaven by the same director is a kind of last chance of this genre, which shone after less than five years, collected a lot of awards and is gradually clearing the way for a more lucrative Hollywood item. If that's the case, then Scott composed another go for the spiritless and empty Gladiator at just the right time. Kingdom of Heaven is not a flawless work, it is a typical "more successful Hollywood spectacle," characterized by partial courage in relaxing the form in favor of the content and a noticeable phobia of doing so as a result. From the very first seconds, it is clear that the scenery and artificiality of Gladiator did not stem from Scott's momentary weakness, but rather that the English legend could not imprint a certain specificity on historical places and persons... everything is artificial, clearly sketched, functioning according to the mechanical rules of the average screenplay. The people are only black and white, all places radiate the halo of a costly expedition, but they lack the hallmark of authenticity and suggestion. But while the backdrop of Rome was covered with great nothingness, the backdrops of the 12th century have at least something worth exploring. At the heart of the film is Orlando Bloom, who has finally managed to play someone other than a soulful elf prince. True, his panic purity remains, but the young idealist Balian has a human, flawed aspect. The fact that it remains only on the plane of a sketch, on which Scott piles up garish paste clichés, is another matter. Fortunately, the young star is backed from all sides by excellent actors, of whom I must particularly mention the charismatic Marshal Tiberias played by Jeremy Irons. Kingdom of Heaven has little to do with history - it is a film that is more or less current and uses the backdrop of the Crusades and the Middle Ages only as a means of sending a message of tolerance between Christians and Muslims. It is a moralistic message, in a way presented tamely, but above all fun and, at certain moments, very impressive (the battle between the Christians and Muslims in the ruins of the holy city walls). Questions of faith, honor and sacrifice are heard in typically cautious packaging, but it's good that they get their place... If I think of the excellent soundtrack and relatively well-conceived battle scenes (the fact that Scott confuses the early Middle Ages with fantasy is something I prefer to leave out), this is one of the best representatives of a "historical" film, beating both Troy and Gladiator. Kingdom of Heaven isn't a great film, but it's a film about something that's appreciated.

Veber simply knows French old-style comedies in a fairly wide range. In this film he takes aim at the refugee action genre, and again, it's a shot very close to the center. Mainly thanks to a great push-off and the irresistible duo in the title role. Both Reno and Depardieu confirm their extra class, and thanks to them, this film has a spark like good French wine. A joy to watch!

Like a gritty war-themed action movie... why not... It has all the attributes of good action – swing, tension, drama and naturalistic directness. Similar to that which adorned Saving Private Ryan. Fortunately, unlike that film, it lacks the strong agitation spirit, although from a thought point of view the film is also quite schematic and pathetic. However, given the amazingly absorbing atmosphere of hot Mogadishu, good acting performances (especially Eric Bana and Ewan McGregor), this is a classic must-see for fans of American films. To all this must be added the excellent soundtrack by Hans Zimmer, the great camera and Ridley Scott, who knows how to do action scenes like few others. Only the aforementioned thought-awkwardness and occasional confusion can be criticized... but as a gritty war-themed action movie... why not... That's all I'd look for.

After more than fifteen years, Vorel returns to the genre with which he adorned the manifesto of Pražská pětka – the grotesque. But while Cesta na Karlštejn was a truly one-piece work, given the economical runtime and brisk anecdote construction, Elf has greater ambitions and multiple pitfalls. In fact, it resembles a sequence of anecdotes slapped together, some better some worse (sometimes the editing "hurts"). I consider the unbalance of sketches and also the music of MIG 21, which is very "tame", to be the most contradictory. If we take away the thought message, which is close to the wild dreams of a freshly adolescent anarchist in the run-up, there remains a film with a pleasant spirit, light cellar poetics and some really good spots that are accentuated by work with colors. I am half satisfied, because unlike the mature Out of the City, Elf is simply a cheerful farce for both the young and the old, which is not worth thinking about much and which does not leave a deep furrow in the mental field...

A riveting essay for dyed-in-the-wool theorists of film narratology? Above all, a brilliant film with everything that a quality thriller must include. The performances of Guy Pearce, Carrie-Anne Moss and Joe Pantoliano are precise, lively, perfectly fitting to the characters. The main star, however, is Jonathan Nolan, who gives a lesson in both screenwriting and directing. The move to bring the viewer closer to the perspective of the main character (i.e., the perspective of quickly forgetting the past story) by telling the story from the end is excellent, but the real delicacy is its portrayal. Nolan has an incredible win here with the construction of Memento, sending small clues around the fiction world that the viewer can hardly realize in the initial disorientation, and therefore has good reason to return to the film. The ending (actually the beginning) is very confusing, but it corresponds exactly to the trick of subjective vision through the eyes of the main character. The relativity of the reminders and "truth" of the past is portrayed par excellence. But the most entertaining thing about Memento is the detective level, which the viewer has to reconstruct so laboriously that you get blisters from the turning of the narrative stream and sweat breaks out on your forehead. Memento deserves five stars for the blisters and for the sweat, and the nickname of one of the most interesting films of recent years.

The idea is very nice, the implementation cheap... Although at first it seems that this film could be more than a typical teenage murder film, it eventually slides into typical genre clichés, and the only thing that sets it apart from other similarly tuned films is the character of the killer... that is, if malicious death can be called a character. Actually, more like if you can even call death what Wong is saying death is, when it acts like a very sadistic version of MacGyver. Yet Final Destination has a nice atmosphere, but that does not change the fact that from a certain point it lost the last remnants of remarkableness for me and evolved into a basically expected "double twist", which is more awkward than funny. If we see everything as relaxation with an interesting theme, the result is slightly above-average. It does not scare in any particular way, the viewer won't remember it after, but at the same time it won’t scar one’s taste...

After all these years, I prepared my raised eyebrows as a precaution, only to completely forget about them. Only Brad Fiedel's synth soundtrack has become brutally obsolete, but otherwise Cameron's cyborg is still doing great. While the effects tend to make you laugh, Cameron's unique sense of tension and impressive characters look like a metal skeleton over a pile of human skulls. Perfect camera work, great editing and very good actors led by Arnie, who acts like an unruly Nazi on a trip. The script doesn't try any big tricks, yet the story of saving the future is extremely impressive, and the insights into the apocalyptic age still have urgency and a pretty decadent mood after all the years. I can't find anything to criticize. The Terminator embodies the poetics of the 1980s in every way, and to this day it should serve as an insurmountable textbook of dramatic action spectacle for hit-makers. A clear gold fund, a film top class without compromise.

This portrait of contemporary mother Russia, based on a passive character of an abandoned and unwanted old woman, is an incredible emotional purgatory. Granny symbolizes old Russia, the togetherness of the family, the peculiar melancholy and typical inner tragedy of one’s nation. The film literally floats like a bitter mirror of the paradoxical world around us, a fixed point of sadness and resignation, but at the same time love and sacrifice in a world that is drowning in moral mud and scarred by a never-ending war. "What is this new Russian?" Granny doesn't have to say much - all the tragedies of her character and her family are best revealed by individual situations, and it is not necessary to pull the viewer by the udder and wring tears or laughter out of us (and yet, despite this, that is why both of them came to me). The film just flows peacefully, sadly like the Russian winter, and with its tone it transported me to an emotional Siberia. It may be Russian in the soul, but its message goes far beyond any national border. A carved masterpiece with economical strokes, accompanied by a beautiful musical backdrop.