D.Moore

In his modern interpretation, "Paul W. S. Anderson honors the realities of the story and intends his modern rendition to approach the narrative quality of the original literary work." I laughed again at the official distributor text. I will admit, though, that these Three Musketeers are better the second time around than the first time. The second time around, I knew what to expect - unprecedented, but quite entertaining stupidity with airship fights, action scenes that beat anything from Anderson's Resident Evil, likable heroes and beautiful cleavage... namely women. Why not?

People will always wonder why I'm terrified of public transport, that I don't touch any of the handrails and every coughing person scares me, and that I wash my hands more thoroughly than a doctor before entering the operating room. All credit to you, Steven Soderbergh, you did it. A virus lurks around every corner, a simple handshake or use of a credit card becomes a mortal danger, tens, hundreds, thousands and hundreds of thousands of people die... And I'm not bored by any of it. Contagion is actually a classic disaster film, of which there used to be many. Just like When Time Ran Out, The Towering Inferno, The Swarm and others, this film is full of familiar faces who (understandably) attract the audience but also do a disservice to the script. Thanks to their performances, we are in fact interested in those characters who would otherwise be completely ordinary, and it doesn't matter that none of them is the main character. The plot, which unfolds according to the expected pattern (contagion-dying-antibodies-question mark), looks mundane, but also feels pleasantly dramatic and somehow heavy thanks to the cold and unsettling direction, cinematography and music. It's a great pity that Contagion isn't at least half an hour longer. The sophistication of the story and the characters would certainly have benefited from it, and the film would perhaps have gotten rid of the somewhat rushed ending. Otherwise, there is nothing to complain about.

A cute satirical pun with the irresistible Miloš Kopecký (perhaps every word he lets out of his mouth is a gem), and sometimes very humorously written, very well handled in terms of special effects and with a really amazing acting mask of Radovan Lukavský within the limits of believability. Oldřich Lipský's greatest things, which have made us love him to this day, were yet to come, but it would certainly be a shame to forget the Man in Outer Space.

Another new Czech fairy tale that is worth the price of admission. After ten minutes, the film turned into a wait for František Němec, who appeared about an hour later and was definitely the best of everyone there. I'd like to forget the rest. In short, Zdeněk Troška continues to make films that he finds interesting, he makes them based on scripts that contain jokes that he finds funny, and he is probably the only one who likes them. The Devil's Bride also reflects Troška's Bad Joke stage in an unpleasant way, and the dialogues are sometimes piggishly ambiguous and wannabe funny (a debate about birds), the characters speak unnecessarily grossly, they "comically" bump into trees, jump around, and in the case of the devils, there is of course idiocy and speech impediment... And the Ordinace actors are lousy just the same. Apart from the music and the aforementioned František Němec, there is really nothing worthwhile in it.

I always like to make time for slow-moving Cold War spy movies, but this one was just too slow for my taste. Richard Burton is, of course, excellent and director Ritt commendably tried to place the camera in quite interesting positions and look for views that would at least enliven the film a little, but otherwise The Spy Who Came in from the Cold left me rather “cold". I didn't mind the fact that there is practically no action in the film - but I expected at least somewhat dramatic dialogue or otherwise tense scene from the beginning. I did not see any until the final trial, when a number was done on the witnesses by the cunning defense lawyer played by Jiří Voskovec. A pure three stars.

This comedy/parody/tribute is (along with the Austin Powers films) one of the most charmingly stylized films I've seen in years. From the opening logos of 20th Century Fox and CinemaScope, to the animated credits, the exuberant Renée Zellweger and Ewan McGregor, the colorful costumes and color-coordinated sets, the music that plays almost all the time and complements the action in the film exactly the way it used to be done, little things like the use of rear projections during car rides, the huge windows of the hotel rooms and the obviously painted New York behind them, to a really beautifully wacky script full of lots of wacky characters and gags and a final twist or musical numbers... Everything is so stylish and the atmosphere of those (mostly) black-and-white lemonade romances oozes so much from everything that it's simply irresistible and lovers of the genre (by which I don't mean contemporary romantic comedies) shouldn't hesitate for even a second.

There is no nostalgia that binds me to Ärliga blå ögon, but it is a nice relaxing series. Out of the six episodes, I found three of them really good and imaginative (the first, fifth and sixth), while the rest were pretty much the same, but not that I was particularly bored. I could probably believe every outfit the protagonist wore (except for the very last one), but I admired her the most in the part where she went from a grey mouse, the student Berit, who is bored and can't and won't dance, to a charming, lively folk dancer in no time. That was a fantastic turn of events. Three and a bit.

I won't disguise the fact that when it comes to Michael Caine, I always find even the silliest film he appears in at least a little bit bearable thanks to his presence. I therefore watched Is Anybody There? thinking that it probably won't be anything groundbreaking, but it will simply be another piece in the puzzle of my favorite actor's filmography. And you know what? It really is nothing groundbreaking, but it was very enjoyable to watch. The film is as sweet as it is sad or funny, Caine (who again can absolutely do anything with a single look) found a quite capable acting partner in the little boy, the setting of the house full of old men was interestingly depressing and at several points reminded me of the orphanage from The Cider House Rules turned inside out. The film is just long enough, the script is blackly humorous in such a way that it doesn't offend anyone, and it doesn't wring emotions out of the viewer unnecessarily, but somehow manages to warm up humanly. I'm rounding up three and a half stars, but if any other actor had played the lead role, I wouldn't have done it.

It's not entirely George Clooney's fault, because he was once again successful behind and in front of the camera, but The Ides of March, I would say, is his least successful directorial effort to date. From my point of view, everything is mainly due to the choice of substance, because political dirt, intrigue and the fact that the person who smiles and means well (not only) during elections can be a scumbag is nothing new. And since nothing actually happened in the 100 minutes of that I didn't expect, the plot didn't really progress, and I felt like a lot of it was missing. Especially the ending was too rushed and bland. Nevertheless, the film is very well shot and acted, accompanied by Desplat's wonderfully listenable music, and it’s certainly not boring. It's just that compared to Clooney's previous works it's nothing special.__P.S. I found Ryan Gosling incredibly unsympathetic, but that's probably how he was supposed to come across.

Short version of my comment: Imagine something that you think is the most disgusting thing in the whole world. And imagine watching it for two hours. That's what you get with Signál.____Longer version of my comment: I should warn you in advance that I will try to use as few bad words as possible. Well, I could actually end there, but then you wouldn't get the main point. Signál is crap. I was sorry to have to say this at first, but it's the plain truth. The main architect of this stinking disaster is the screenwriter Marek Epstein, and the director Tomáš Řehořek is its finisher. They have created an absolutely unfunny, repulsive "comedy" masquerading as a poor imitation that offended me first and foremost by the way the filmmakers imagine the rural population - men in particular as stupid idiots, and as uncivilized morons for whom the word "city" is an unreal concept, and women as easy victims to strangers. The second tragedy is the story. There is none. It was supposed to show human stupidity, but it showed again and again only the incompetence of the filmmakers, who perhaps didn't even know what they were making and for whom. The characters? More shit. Is there a sympathetic character in this film at all? Certainly not from the central pair Dyk and Hádek, certainly not from the inhabitants of Zálesí. I don't know, maybe I just misunderstood the whole thing, but I think Signál is just full of assholes (who people should probably cheer for, since one of them is played by that young and popular singer) and morons, and the only person who could break out of those two boxes, being Jiří Menzel, I didn't care about. By the way, while I'm on the subject of Jiří Menzel... Tomáš Řehořek is probably a fan of his. However, he should realize that by alternating boring "plot" scenes and details of spiders, flies, earthworms, dewy grass and other natural phenomena that surely fascinate him, he will not achieve any "Menzel-like" poetics. Signál is a terribly long and terribly stupid film, and anyone who asks me about it I will discourage from going to the movie theatre, I swear.__P.S. Nightwork's hideous song almost made me leave during the closing credits. But then I'd miss that fabulous conversation with the director and producer. Both were even more futile than their film. And I thought it wasn't even possible anymore.