Marigold

How is Markéta Lazarová one of the best conversions of a literary work? In that it is not just a conversion, but a complete rebirth. Out of kindness for Vančura's book, only the narrator and the character of a wandering monk remained; otherwise Vláčil's opus becomes a rough medieval fresco, replacing the perfection of Vančura's language with no less perfect language of paintings and symbols. The bleak musical accompaniment completes the director's efforts to evoke the medieval atmosphere by all means. Markéta Lazarová is not only strong with her story of love born of humiliation (she stands out much more in Vančura's book), but precisely because of her cinematic craftsmanship qualities. It is rather more of a great film essay – robust, with an unmistakable aesthetic and, in my opinion, absolutely brilliant, though not easily digestible.

A moment ago, I came out of Bergman's little world, this stage full of people wearing different masks... and I still have a difficult time finding words. Fanny and Alexander is a brilliant film. I say that with all certainty. Brilliant because it reflects a great world. In the colossal and scalding epic of one Swedish family, deep philosophical questions arise about the very essence of who we are. Truth and lie. Love and hate. Faith and doubt. Reality and fantasy. Bergman doesn't ask the viewer questions. He lets them "happen" in front of his eyes. And the viewer has to ask. And the viewer has to look for answers. The principle of European cinema: asking questions, not staring and getting entertained. This film requires an attentive viewer who can read between the lines, search, form an opinion. How many times do word and image get going and characters tell stories? And it's you, the viewers, who have to create them through fantasy, Bergman just gives you an impulse and opens up space for imagination. Fanny and Alexander is truly the master’s opus magni. It depicts an agitated mysticism, displayed explicitly, physically; deep psychology that makes each character into a complex universe and gentle humor (Fellinian kind and ordinary). I don't think this film is idyllic and anthemic; on the contrary, under all the celebratory tones a stream of tragedy flows like an underground river. The guilt that accompanies us and appears when we least expect it. Time we can't stop, which we are reminded of by the sound of the clock. The ubiquitous scars that are the tax on our actions. Even Alexander, in a riveting magical blending with the wonderful Izmail, cannot resist the hatred that will mark him ... And yet, Bergman puts all hope into newborn life. And also into a creative fantasy that – tragic or humorous – can transform the world... Bergman's cinematic world is a child's wonder world, where things radiate the mood of the moment, happening in the most common yet wonderful way... and perhaps that is why their contrast with the cold, evil and rationalized world of adults (embodied by Bishop Edvard Vergerus) is so harsh and painfully steep. Fanny and Alexander is a world in film, an animated slice of another reality where you can fit in, but you don't have to. For me, it is a world in which I find everything that makes film a powerful medium and above all – ART! Folks, go ahead and see if you can still (after all these colossal big productions) do more than just watch the film!

A love of black-and-white images that whisper their bizarre messages and prophecy into the quiet. The twisted world of the maniac Caligari and the creeping threat of the vampire Nosferatu. Undoubtedly the most suggestive treatment of the Dracula myth – precisely because evil cannot speak, precisely because it has only two colors. Nosferatu aka Orlock aka the mysterious Max Schreck is not only a cinematic creature, he is the perfect embodiment of evil and destruction, death, a hunch of the future destruction of the German nation. This film doesn't have weak moments. It doesn't scare intensely, but it's one long case of filmmaking enjoyment that doesn't need expensive effects to captivate the viewer with its emotionality and atmosphere. This is film in its raw form. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a film.

When I hear talk of European film, I think of Amarcord. If I hear the word puberty, I think of the powerful breasts of the tobacconist, a horny Fox and masturbating in the car. And when I hear Amarcord, I think of a warm and loving film that sketches a portrait of an Italian small town with all its sweetness and tribulations with relaxed strokes with a slight exaggeration. I think of a motorcyclist called Fart, a bunch of teenagers, a stunted nun, an angry father and a farting grandfather. Just a film that's close to me and that's fascinated me for years. So many beautiful mini-stories, so much humor, so much love for the characters. Amarcord is a magnificent celebration of storytelling and directorial skills, open cinematic souls... Just everything that European cinema means to me at its best.

An old man's view in the mirror, through dreams and episodes of an unusual journey to Lund, to receive an honorary doctorate. The absolutely unnameable power of individual dream scenes, which are enhanced by a fantastic visual composition and the overall mood, which penetrates deep under one’s skin. Small alternations of positions from humor and idylls (especially popular fluffy family scenes) to exciting existential outpourings that evoke Kafka... In Wild Strawberries, Bergman is a captivating narrator who is able to embed an inconspicuous but even more suggestive drama into every shot. Without any intellectual incomprehensibility, he creates a road movie of an aging man who, in the face of death, his own imperfection and unfortunate fate, becomes Isak, an understanding and generous father. This is Bergman, friends. The magician of the film image, a juggler of dim moods and a master of thoughts.

Together with Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, this the most visually perfect and aesthetically-refined film I know. Fritz Lang was able to give his monstrous work the perfect appearance, and despite the aging technologies the result had not lost its magnetism and suggestiveness even a little bit - on the contrary, the special old veneer only intensified the functionalist precision and Gothic expansion of shapes. True, the presentation of the content has aged somewhat, but the "midpoint between the brain and the hands must be the heart" factor is extremely urgent and topical as a result. The excellent visual aspects strengthen the plasticity of the environment – on the one hand, the almost ritual environment of the industrialized heart of the city, on the other the modern and luxurious gloss. The drama of the conflict between the proletariat (the underground core of the city) and bourgeoisie (the cream of society on the surface, led by the unscrupulous Joh Fredersen) is spread out for the current viewer on a very extensive area, but the constant invention and image precision, which, with its composition and shape concern clearly references the supreme expressionism, appeals to the viewer's enjoyment and teases the cells that can only be stimulated by a real film delicacy. Metropolis is formally an absolutely perfect film, which contemporary fast-paced artists, who lack even a hint of art despite the hi-technologies, can only look upon enviously. It is also a film that has a clear and convincing message. Both of these components form an ageless gem, which I like more and more after each viewing, and to which I feel an ever deeper respect.

As a man afflicted since childhood with love for the phenomenon of the super agent in Her Majesty's Secret Service (they have been a part of my life since 1984, when I saw the first Moor film), and as someone who has seen all the Bond films, I say: Casino Royale is an old school Bond film that I've missed since the days of Goldfinger. Daniel Craig is Bond in the best Connery tradition, yet he is also new, original, almost popular. He gives back to the legend its gloss and energy. Martin Campbell perfectly combined the thrilling action rides in an old-fashioned coat with a calm (but internally electrifying) game of poker, in which the gentleman's style of Guy Hamilton and Terence Young is reflected. This conservative spy level may not captivate today's viewer, but I was completely fascinated. No doubt the good old days are coming back and Pierce Brosnan's exaggerated CGI action era is waving goodbye. I won't remember it in a bad way, but Daniel Craig is the Bond of my heart, hand in hand with Sir Connery. Bond's humanity, egoism, vulnerability, fragility... Craig does it all with extraordinary credibility and certainty. Hand in hand with this is the fantastic villain Le Chiffre (Auric Goldfinger, you've met your match!), the most magical Bond-girl (forgive me, beautiful Ursula, but Eva Green gave Vesper a soul, not just a body), and the increasingly charming M Judi Dench. Martin Campbell does more than just an action routine - he holds the film wonderfully together and the chemistry of the characters drives like an Aston Martin. Although Casino Royale is far from being problem-free - lapses in logic, naivety, flatter passages, unspokenness and recklessness, just about everything that is inseparable from the series - it is definitely the best bond since the 1960s.

There's nothing to add to this. Brilliant photogenic meditation on loneliness, hopelessness and closedness. A film imbued with the hopeless beauty of solitude to the last second. After watching it, I absolutely experienced a feeling of complete fulfillment. If this were to be the last film I ever saw, I would be fully satisfied.