gudaulin

This time, my two stars are not only for a specific film but for a whole era and type of popular comedies from the 50s and 60s. Simply put, older French and Italian comedies with a leading pair, a few functional gags, and a lot of wordy filler just feel exhausted to me, sometimes desperately so. This type of film doesn't offend in any way, but I don't have much fun with them anymore. For early films with Louis de Funès, this feeling is more of a rule than an exception. Overall impression: 40%, one of the two stars is for the presence of two famous names in French cinema.

The film is as cold as a dog's snout and lacks tension in many places, which one would expect in a spy drama. Many people have already written about the unfortunate choice of casting Adolf Hitler's character. Hitler was at the peak of his popularity and his physical and mental strength at that time, and he had nothing in common with the Nosferatu vampire presented in the film. On the other hand, Jeremy Irons is exactly right in the role of Chamberlain, but I'm afraid that's the only thing that will stick in the memory of viewers in the long term. Personally, I don't like it when foolishness like an SS officer attacking a member of the British diplomatic mission at the summit meeting during the Munich conference appears in a realistically-looking historical drama, on which the attention of the world public was focused. That person could consider himself extremely lucky if he ended up only in a concentration camp and not directly in front of the firing squad. Overall impression: 55%.

Takeshi Kitano is one of the most interesting figures in contemporary Japanese cinema and he can hardly make a bad film. However, Kikujiro is not among his best works. I had issues with its uneven pace, strong scenes alternating with dull passages, and the film overall feels too long. Additionally, the film includes scenes where the director overtly tries to impress the viewer. Overall impression: 65%.

I don't know if the last episode of the TV series can be considered representative enough to evaluate the whole phenomenon of Inspector Kojak, but I wanted to revive this character that I used to watch in the distant past for myself. It's not downright bad, but compared to the modern series of the past two decades, it clearly lags behind. It's just a kind of average filler of television broadcasting, whereas captivating works look different and tell their stories completely differently. Overall impression: 45%.

A historical costume melodrama about the unfulfilled love of two members of New York's high society in the second half of the 19th century. Although there are objections in the comments regarding its length and "emptiness and dullness," I personally don't think that the weakness of the film lies in the quality of the screenplay and its execution. In fact, such careful psychological characterization and well-thought-out story structure are certainly not often seen. Thanks to the budget and Scorsese's directorial skills, The Age of Innocence is a truly impressive depiction of the life of the bourgeois elite, starting with the ladies' wardrobe and ending with the grandeur of bourgeois residences. Yes, this film does not rush anywhere, and you must look for adventure, eroticism, or tension in other genres and titles. But this is not Scorsese's or his team's fault. My detachment and more modest evaluation are rather of an "ideological" nature. I simply don't feel well among those chatty snobs, hypocrites, and manipulators. I have no sympathy for the central couple either, who ultimately decided their own fate. If you decide to sell yourself for a noble title and meet the expectations of your family and social conventions, you must also sacrifice something, at least personal freedom and emotional fulfillment. They both had a choice, no doubt about it, but they couldn't overcome the limits of their social class. They sold themselves, and it apparently didn't hurt Newland much. Scorsese looks at his calculating bourgeois characters with a kind understanding rather than stabbing and biting, as social-critical authors would. In his interpretation, it is more of a romantic story of unhappy love than a social drama about period-class morality. I would gladly watch this story again but in the style of Guy de Maupassant... Overall impression: 65%.

There is a category of films that primarily forces one to go back to previously reviewed titles, change their perspective on them, and adjust the number of stars assigned to them. In the case of Scent of a Woman, I first watched the Italian original and gave it four strong stars. After watching the American remake, I must add a fifth star, and for Brest's film, I can't go higher than three stars. Mind you, the film is still good, but in this confrontation, one understands what it means for a commercially successful film compared to a raw artistic piece that does not consider success with the widest audience and instead follows the creative intentions of the screenwriter and director. Al Pacino plays his colonel brilliantly, but Vittorio Gassman in the Italian version does not play his captain Fausto, he simply is him. And he is him because the script does not prescribe him pathetic speeches, predictable sentimental behavior, and nonsense. Gassman's officer authentically hates, envies, humiliates, desires, and loves, while his American counterpart operates within an overly sweetened script that turns into typical Hollywood kitsch in the final half-hour. The gun in the American version is just a prop that serves for an impressive scene where the viewer, along with Al Pacino's companion, counts how long it takes the blind officer to assemble the disassembled weapon, for a few dialogues, and for a seemingly intense scene where the viewer already knows in advance that it has to end well in the minds of the audience's expectations. In the Italian version, it is a real weapon that can harm and kill at any time. The Italian captain drinks heavily and pays for prostitutes; his American counterpart can only talk about it and use a few vulgarisms. In the American film, the viewer doesn't have to worry about either the colonel or the student Charlie because it is clear that everything must eventually turn out well. The difference between European and American approaches to drama is simply drastic. Overall impression: 65%.

A bitter tragicomedy about a man who lacked greater adaptability to attain happiness, but also the energy and courage to confront the injustices of our world, and so his life attitude became escapism. During the communist period, he decides to seek asylum in a monastery, and when fate brings him back to the world outside the monastery walls years later, he finds that while the government has changed, the people who continue to remain morally on edge have not. Despite sincere efforts to reintegrate and rebuild broken bonds with his family, he ultimately chooses to escape again into the asylum of the microcosm of a religious sect. It's not a bad movie, but from the creator of the format, Jerzy Stuhr, I would have expected more developed characters and more intense conflicts. Perhaps even more black humor. In many cases, the characters are merely outlined and do not undergo any development. It needed more work on the screenplay and the quality of the dialogue. Overall impression: 65%.

Two families in one apartment are usually not a good thing. Two nations in one country, with radically opposite ideas about who should govern the country, even about who should live in it and how they should behave - that really smells like trouble. The Time That Remains is an intellectually oriented grotesque about the coexistence of two roosters in one landfill, where one of them clearly dominates and doesn't hesitate to painfully mock the weaker one when necessary, which has unpleasant consequences for the weaker one. It's a typical festival film that has a chance to appeal to alternative audiences who like to experience the unknown. The film is actually an autobiographical chronicle of the lives of two generations of Palestinians in occupied territories from the declaration of the state of Israel to the intifada. Elia Suleiman uses absurd exaggeration, a slightly Kafkaesque style of alienation of a person who has lived in exile for many years and now returns to a country that never belonged to him, and now he doesn't even understand it after years of separation. The first part describing the bitter-sweet overview of the civil war in 1948 was the best for me when the Arabs with an oriental approach to responsibilities couldn't withstand the rationality, organization, and determination of the Israelis. However, gradually the slightly abstract storytelling style started to be a burden to me, so in the end, I settled for a rating of 3 stars and a 65% overall impression.

The Terminal reminds me of a sweet and heavily praised lemonade in enticing packaging, which someone opens and leaves on the table for a week. It's simply too calculated and not very functional. Of course, Tom Hanks and Catherine Zeta-Jones continue to be among the most likable actors of their generation, Spielberg knows his craft, and the film maintains a certain level throughout. It's predictable to the point of misery, except for the final resolution, which makes me wonder why Hanks actually endured that crazy stay at the airport. If I had been considering three stars until then, at that point I was definitively convinced to give it a lower rating. The resolution is, diplomatically speaking, naïve, but it leaves me with a far more expressive phrase on my lips. The overall impression is influenced by an inappropriately chosen level of stylization and exaggeration. The relationship between reality and the absurdity of what is seen simply jars. Furthermore, the slogging message of family values and human solidarity gradually pushes Spielberg to the very brink of kitsch. Perhaps the weakest creation that I have had the opportunity to see from his workshop... Overall impression: 45%.

Even a fleeting glance at George A. Romero's filmography suggests that he was a notorious B-movie director in the style of John Carpenter. However, Romero was more versatile and capable, at least from my perspective, of making a surprisingly decent piece of work that stirred up the horror genre. Romero was fascinated by the theme of zombies throughout his life, but they never seemed interesting to me, and for a long time I thought that a film about their world couldn't captivate me - until Zack Snyder came along and convinced me otherwise. He had much more drive and managed to give dynamism to the world of zombies, and his Dawn of the Dead is the only zombie film that I have ever given four stars. Even in his last foray into the world of the living dead, Romero couldn't surpass his limits, and the screenplay simply belongs to the category of dumb B-movies, where all the characters choose the dumbest path to achieve their goals and the situations are resolved in a "deus ex machina" style. I don't deny Romero's craftsmanship - after all, he had been in the industry for quite a long time, but a thrilling and clever spectacle is something completely different. Moreover, if there is something I truly dislike, it's when a film pretends to be something it's not. Romero tried to smuggle in social motifs and rebellion against the capitalist social order into his film, but regardless of the dysfunctionality of his world, he does it in a terribly superficial and actually ridiculous way. Overall impression: 40%.