gudaulin

Some time ago, by pure chance, I watched the final episode of the trilogy and the result was 4 stars and a feeling of time well invested. Before Sunrise had an even higher rating on FilmBooster than the last part, and there were enthusiastic comments to be found as well. So, I invited my wife to watch it, thinking it would be a pleasant romance and a safe bet. After a while, I looked at her, and in her eyes, I didn't see desperation, but definitely disinterest and the unspoken words "I really don't want to watch this..." After a bit, she actually said, "Couldn't that train at least derail?" I myself felt that it wasn't right. I didn't have a problem with the fact that there was continuous talking in the movie. The problem lies in the quality of the dialogues, in their content and message. It's basically just babbling. True, young Julie Delpy is nice to look at, but that's actually all the movie can offer me. The power of thoughts and emotions is not present for me. The success of the film lies in the ability and willingness of the viewer to project their own memories of a first date and love into the meeting of the two travelers. But I have never been this sentimental. Before dawn doesn't affect me at all, and it seems too banal and empty. Overall impression: 40%.

I became aware of the existence of the series when I accidentally came across an enthusiastic comment comparing it to the successful series The Black Adder. Intrigued, I watched the first episode and encountered straightforward cheap humor, sometimes truly coarse. I quickly lost interest in continuing to watch because it doesn't come close to the qualities of The Black Adder. Provocative topics can be handled without resorting to vulgarity, it just takes sensitivity, the ability to stop in time, and to only imply and play with words and situational comedy. The truth is, even the aforementioned Black Adder was searching throughout the entire first series, but it was never bad. I give the overall impression of the first episode 25%, with the possibility that I might eventually find a star to add to it in the other episodes. But there are plenty of better works, so why waste time on this...

I've never been a big fan of movies with big attractions and effects and it's just something I'm not into. However, every now and then I let myself be enticed by dazzling visuals, as evidenced by my rating of the first Pirates of the Caribbean. However, I need a meaningful story and well-written characters for that. In the case of Mad Max: Fury Road, there is practically no story, the characters' motivations are, to put it mildly, weak, and the characters themselves serve only as tools for the director to shape an endless series of action scenes and evoke the simplest of emotions. They are mere controlling elements of the vehicles, ready to be attackers or victims for the entertainment of the audience. The mythos of the depicted world is highly reduced, and it is clear that the director does not expect anyone to ask questions or, God forbid, use their brain while watching his film. You would search in vain for any logical structure in the world depicted by him. While in the case of the new circus, there is a tendency to build a plot from uncomplicated acrobatic acts, to tell a story, and thus move towards theater and film art, Mad Max, on the other hand, operates on the principle of a classic circus performance. Here, the action genre has stripped away all impurities and exposed itself in its essence. Mad Max will be appreciated by viewers focused on dynamism and action, top-notch acrobatics, and choreography. For the target audience, the film can offer excellent camera work and clear editing, beautiful women, machines with powerful engines, and adrenaline. This is not nothing, and I understand that it can excite many male viewers. But I need a lot more for a film experience. Overall impression: 30%.

In the opening scene, the viewer witnesses two prisoners being escorted on an airplane to some prison. The men have bags over their heads and the leader of the escort tries to mentally break one of them and probably force him to confess. He opens the door and pulls the prisoner to his knees facing a bottomless pit that can scare not only those who suffer from a fear of heights. Automatically, I would expect the next step to be the removal of the bag, as otherwise, the act does not make sense. However, that does not happen. The purpose of that bag was not to disorient the prisoner but to surprise the guards and especially the viewer with a moment of revealing the prisoner's identity. In the world of Nolan's Batman trilogy, everything is done for immediate effect and you cannot find any logic or functionality in it. It was only here that I fully understood when it came to The Dark Knight why some people were irritated by the total brevity and stupidity of practically everyone on the set. I also agree with the sentiment that people don't know why The Joker was trying to bring chaos with his plans when in the end he is almost the only one whose actions make sense to some degree. All the others, Batman - the police, and the mafia - exhibit such a heap of insanity that cannot possibly come from a member of the Homo sapiens species equipped with self-preservation instincts. Something like that might belong in a comic book, but this is outwardly presented as a sophisticated detective story with elements of noir and psychological drama. Nolan does not spare any special effects and generously provides attractions, but in terms of content, there's not much to be ha. Batman Begins had the reputation of being a dark drama in which the comic had finally matured and successfully transferred the literary source to the real world. I don't fully agree with that, but I agree that the mentioned tendency was there and that it was an interesting step within the genre. The Dark Knight Rises is evidence that Nolan got stuck in a dead end when it came to grasping the material. It is pompous, megalomaniacal, and content-wise, excuse my language, stupid. Forget about any deeper psychology, this blockbuster only pretends to be mature and is about as good at it as little children playing mommy and daddy. I consider the last part to be unquestionably the weakest part of the trilogy, partly due to very problematic ideological starting points. Frank Miller, the author who has most influenced the current form and mythology of the Batman world, is known as a right-winger and represents a counterbalance to left-leaning anarchist authors like Alan Moore. However, here his individualism and contempt for "scum" has essentially become a manifesto for questioning democratic orders and for authoritarians like Spanish caudillo Franco and especially for General Pinochet, and for them, Batman would undoubtedly be an ideal movie hero and this piece would occupy a very honorable place in their film collections. Overall impression: 25%. If Dunkirk and The Prestige represent the peak of Nolan's work so far, then The Dark Knight Rises represents the bottom.

Mammon rode the wave of popularity of Scandinavian detective stories, but using the argument that it was introduced here or there to highlight its qualities is misleading. With the current inflation of television stations and other distribution channels, there is a huge demand for genre creation, and in every new project, the market wants to see a new The Bridge or The Killing. These undoubtedly represent screenwriting constructs; in the normal world, you won't encounter such sophisticated criminals and complicated branching cases. But they are cleverly written, with an understanding of human psychology, with corresponding motivations, and it doesn't grate or go overboard. Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul convinced me some time ago that you can work with very unconventional radical characters and still make them feel believable if you put effort into the script. Mammon fails in the most fundamental aspect - it is poorly written. The concept is interesting, and the director works with proven thriller elements, but if the screenwriter relies on such obvious awkward transitions, commits such glaring logical somersaults, and piles up absurd coincidences, the result is lost. The screenwriter doesn't just need to write a sentence, they need to add an exclamation mark to it. The series lacks moderation and a sense of proportion. It is obvious that it is a mediocre work. Overall impression: 25%.

At the beginning of the 90s, Twin Peaks was a cultural shock and the first harbinger of the rise of the phenomenon of quality TV dramas. Frost and Lynch came up with the idea of combining the widely used format of soap operas with crime drama, turning all the previous principles of serial practice upside down and proving that television production can be done differently, i.e., cleverly and innovatively. The plot was no longer important to them; the murder of the student was bait for the audience to be lured into the maze of strangely fluctuating serial characters and the maze of relationships of the inhabitants of a strange small town. The success did not rely on the story, but on the characters, with whom the authors entertainingly played. The series gradually adopted elements of sitcoms and began to ironically criticize both genres from which it originated. Lynch was lucky when it came to his collaborators. The mysteriously sounding soundtrack by Angelo Badalamenti became a huge hit and a symbol of the series. Kyle MacLachlan, with his sympathetic talents and malleable acting, had no problem identifying with the philosophy of the series and passionately delivered the famous lines to his invisible secretary, Diane. The beautiful mysterious women with unpredictable behavior added an erotic dimension to Twin Peaks. The characters constantly surprised us. Outwardly positive characters carried the seeds of evil within themselves, unexpectedly showed their dark side, and fascinated us with their corruption. The intricate storytelling with many blind alleys, which did not burden itself with explanations and presenting information on a silver platter, attracted intellectuals to the television, who had previously scorned it. The screenwriters played with the viewers, mystified them, and diverted their attention to details that had no practical importance. Twin Peaks was at the forefront of a process that changed the rules of the game in television production and introduced cinematic aesthetics to it. Its success inspired many other television projects, and traces of Twin Peaks can be found practically everywhere today. The first season suited me perfectly and it was precisely this season that led me to discover the eccentric and crazy Lynch. Overall impression: 95%.

This two-part television thriller about the most famous criminal case investigated in Great Britain was created on the occasion of the centenary of the series of attacks by the mysterious Jack the Ripper. From today's perspective, when ambitious quality TV projects keep pace with filmmaking, it may not stand out as much, but in the second half of the 80s, it was a generously funded project that was intended to be a dignified tribute to this event. There is an evident effort to approach the subject matter as seriously as possible and at the same time create an atmospheric genre film with a socially critical subtext. Anyone who has ever dealt with the case of the London serial killer will not be too surprised by the choice of the perpetrator; his name has always been one of the debated ones in the case, and it is addressed in literary form, for example, in Alan Moore's successful comic novel "From Hell." Although the television film is by no means as multifaceted, it is not a work that tries to be a complete statement about Victorian England society, but as an unconventional detective story set in historical settings with a non-conformist protagonist surpassing the abilities of his surroundings, it holds up more than decently - undoubtedly thanks to Michael Caine's casting in the main role, because he couldn't act badly even if he wanted to. Overall impression: 80%.

Nolan's audience and his film heroes have one thing in common: a feeling that could be compared to what happens to the fuel mixture in the engine during the compression phase. After just a few dozen seconds, you will witness the massacre of a military unit and events are set in motion like an avalanche. Nolan has made an intense film, constantly forcing his characters to act, escape mortal danger, and make decisions about their own lives and the lives of those around them. Mistakes or hesitations are not forgiven and have the most tragic consequences. The viewer is bombarded with a huge amount of sensations from the first minute. Don't expect moments of calm and reflection. Prepare for dynamic editing, constantly alternating between events on land, at sea, and in the air. The director does not use a collective hero, and each component of the army and civilians rushing to help have specific faces, but Nolan is not interested in telling the story of one or a few individuals. He has made a complex film where the main role is the battle itself, or rather the historical event - the evacuation of a 400,000-strong army trapped in a small enclave on the coastline. Sound plays an extraordinary role in Dunkirk. The film never goes silent for a moment. You will be bombarded with noises, shots, and explosions, a mixture of tones and musical compositions that intensify the tension and anticipation. Nolan uses not the biggest stars, but rather the best actors, from whom charisma radiates from a distance. They don't need dialogues, as a glance or a slight gesture is enough to send chills down your spine. Prior to its premiere, Dunkirk generated expectations that it could become the film event of the year, and I believe Nolan has fulfilled this assignment. What I saw here is a precise film from a director with a clear vision, attitude, and above-average abilities, and who has control over his film. I am talking about the dynamic editing, but please do not confuse it with chaos. If you have a problem with the editing, the fault lies within you and in how perceive things. What I saw was an epic drama that I strongly recommend seeing on the big screen. And finally, what I saw was a film that rehabilitates concepts such as heroism and patriotism. After a series of productions saturated with ideologies and nationalism, this film is quite a relief. Overall impression: 95%.

This is a television drama about how a promising dancer, through bad friends and emotional confusion during adolescence, became addicted to heroin. The film does not deny that it was commissioned as a warning against the temptation of chemically enhancing one's life. It is characteristic of it that it tries to adapt to the thinking of teenagers and speak their language. Other than that, there are much more significant films with better scripts, direction, and cast that have been made on this topic. Overall impression: 40%.

The personality of Charlie Chaplin does not represent an indisputable symbol of artistic mastery for me, as only a few of his films have appealed to me in the past, and even fewer interest me today. The ones that I think are worth watching again could easily be counted on one hand, but Modern Times is one of them. Along with The Gold Rush, it is the only film in which I accept his character as a tramp. In Modern Times, he tries to make his way through life and repeatedly tries to integrate himself into the life of a respectable citizen, but fails as a factory worker or a waiter. The girl with whom he eventually forms a relationship is similarly unconventional, so in the end, they both recognize that they do not fit into the modern era with its rules, orders, and obligations. They retreat and walk together toward their fate. Above all, the factory part of the tramp's story seems funny and cleverly filmed to me; the desire to maximize productivity leads to the absurd motif of a machine for feeding employees. The second highlight of the film is the scene in the bar where Chaplin's voice is heard for the first time in the form of a musical number accompanied by pantomimic clowning. Modern Times can be criticized, like other Chaplin films, for the outdated aesthetics of silent films from the first half of the 1920s. But in this case, I don't mind. I perceive his film as a social critique of the system during the economic crisis and at the same time a criticism of Fordist mass society based on the suppression of individuality. It is typical that the screening of Modern Times was immediately banned in Hitler's Germany and Mussolini's Italy. Overall impression: 80%.