Lima

I recently saw this gem for about the fifth time, but finally for the first time in widescreen uncut format (shame on our distributors that this, one of the best films of the 70s, has never been released on DVD with Czech support). It's rare that a film draws me into the action as if I were there, but Chinatown has an extremely dense, almost oppressive atmosphere of the sun-baked streets of summer Los Angeles in the 1930s, where the slowly escalating plot begins as a fairly ordinary noirish detective story, only to grow into a drama of antique proportions at the end. I've seen Jack Nicholson in many, many films, but here he plays the role of his life in my eyes, and the same can be said about Faye Dunaway. Jerry Goldsmith's music touches on perfection in places, with the saxophone never sounding sweeter than during the melodically expressive “Love Theme”. There was strong competition at the Oscars that year (Godfather II, The Towering Inferno, etc.), but I still can't shake the feeling that the academics were asleep when they awarded Polanski's masterpiece only one statuette out of eleven nominations - for screenplay. One of my Top 10 films.

After the worldwide mega-success of Indiana Jones, Fulci rode the wave of the fashionable popularity of Egyptian mythology and based his new film largely on it. He attached to it a somewhat tame story about a little girl who, while exploring her father's archaeological site somewhere in Egypt, receives a jewel from an old woman with white eyeballs that later takes over her body and mind in Manhattan. So, there's not much to look at this time, Fulci's direction gives a very somnolent impression, and the viewer gets to see his typical trademark in a single scene only in the last 10 minutes, when a stuffed bird in the professor's apartment comes to life and dismembers the poor scientist's face and neck, with even some gut-pulling following. Moreover, Fulci is, more than ever, obsessed with eyes, there are about 25 close-ups of eyes during the film, and it gets tiresome towards the end. Fulci's court composer Fabio Frizzi then rips himself off, sometimes his music doesn't match the action on the screen at all.

Potter literary phenomenon has always gone past me (and probably will continue to) and I take their film adaptations as a parade of pretty pictures and good visual effects to see once, digest pleasantly and forget. However, David Yates succeeds where even Cuarón failed: to fully draw me into the plot and awaken my interest in the fate of the characters. Maybe it's also due to the source material, which thickens from episode to episode towards a slightly horror atmosphere, which is only a good thing. And Stephen King is right, Dolores Umbridge, with her sweet yet sinister smile, is indeed one of the nastiest female villains ever to appear in a film (Nurse Ratched from Forman's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest would be jealous) PS: Kids will be probably get bored, there are few cute creatures and vermin, and they won't even get to see the quidditch. :)

In spite of the fact that the last few seasons are going on inertia and lack any good comedy (the first eight seasons are absolutely unbeatable), the first “feature length episode” is proof that the people around Matt Groening have not yet run out of ammo. Especially the first half the film is lethal in the number of jokes and references, even the (bellow)average ones. But it’s still true, as with Asterix, that the Simpsons are not primarily for small children and their humour is appreciated by a more mature and informed audience. Also thanks to the funny references to anything, starting with Arnie's ambitions, ending with the current global warming phenomenon (I was probably the only one to laugh in the whole cinema at the reference to Al-Gore's forklift during Lisa's lecture). Best joke? The change of personnel at Moe’s Bar before Armageddon, when the pansies go drinking and the drunks go praying :o)

Hmm, quite nice. But about ten minutes after the film ended I had already forgotten what it was about. So, when are we getting Ocean’s 15?

Between 11 pm of 16 July and 23 July I peed 23 times. Now, tell me, isn’t that suspicious? It’s shocking!!! Now, seriously. Does Jim Carrey read the scripts before singing the contracts? Has Joel Schumacher gone definitely mad? He is, however, thanks to the occasionally nice visuals, innocent in this, I think. It's just that the script is a terrible piece of crap. It's not so much the obsession with the number (I know a few people around me with obsessive disorder, so I know what hell is like) and the basic premise is not bad at all. But the way it's narrated, drawn out and acted (Carrey's tattoos are terrible, but otherwise he's probably the worst I've seen), it's an ordeal. The most stupid film of (not only) this year. This film, ladies and gentlemen, despite the strong competition from LaBute's The Wicker Man, is a sure winner of the upcoming Golden Raspberries! PS: Jim Carrey should pray the Lord's Prayer 23 times to be pardoned by the movie god and his fortune.

The nightmare of every IT specialist, or rather, the best comedy of their lives, depending on how you look at it. Wiseman totally blew it. It's definitely an above average action film, but that's about it unfortunately. If I were a hardcore fan of the Die Hard franchise, I’d wonder where are the cynical, dry wisecracks typical of John McClane, and where are the plot twists that worked so well in the second and third films. Wiseman's film is closest to the first in its directness, but unlike it, it lacks tension, because Willis has a skeleton made of titanium and wouldn't be stopped even if a Boeing fell on him. In other words, the almost comic-book exaggeration kills the movie. This is especially true of McClane's adversaries, a dashing guy, undoubtedly Spider-Man's older brother, who falls 10 metres from a helicopter onto concrete and it's all good. But that's nothing against Maggie Q – you can punch her several times with your fist (without breaking her make-up), slam her against the wall several times (her make-up still sticks) and then hit her with a car at full speed and she won't even flinch and will still kick your ass. Sorry, Wiseman, but I'm not interested in Aeon Flux 2, I'm getting a bit bored of these feminist superheroes.

In these days of the senseless cult of youth, this is a real treasure and also a typical Svěrak’s balm for the soul. There's no screaming humour (they showed the trailer for Evan Almighty with Steve Carell before the film and it made my toes curl), but a very intelligent story full of life wisdom and insights, which will put a permanent smile on your face and maybe, during a beautiful love confession in a balloon, make you so happy that you'll buy your sweetheart a flower after leaving the cinema. PS: A beautiful parallel (one of many in the film) from Svěrák's observations is the opening one. I have a friend, a two-meter-tall guy, big like a mountain, who taught history and Czech at a high school. He told me that after six months, every time he got on the tram he took to work, he had a sinking feeling in his chest (without Mr Svěrák's tics and pills) from knowing that he would have to put up with the attacks of insolent brats for another day. The worst were supposedly the sons of rich dads who somehow helped the school financially (see in the film the son of the dad who financed the "running track"), because they knew they were covered by this, that nothing could happen to them. After less than a year my friend quit teaching, he couldn't handle the nerves. He didn't squeeze a wet sponge on a student, he hasn't seen your film, but believe me, Mr. Svěrák, he would understand you deeply :)

More than two and a half hours of spellbinding precision filmmaking, from the flawless evocation of the atmosphere of the 1960s and 70s, for which I have a soft spot, to the inventively staged Zodiac murders, where Fincher, with one exception, avoids explicit violence (and yet gave me chills like I hadn’t felt in a long time), to the pleasure of watching great actors. And if I were a manufacturer of "drinks for a slim line" with a professional deformity, I would gladly exclaim: “And zero clichés!!!” Undoubtedly the most entertaining conversational film in recent years and a treasure for all those whose first priority is the story and only then the flashy tinsel, so typical of recent films. And certainly a disappointment for those who like crime movies with everything presented on a golden platter like in Columbo. Acting-wise, I was very surprised by the great Mark Ruffalo, but everyone is rocked by Jake Gyllenhaal, whose enthusiastic, headstrong character, driven by a desire to "I need to know who he is", is one of the most likeable in recent years for me. And I think the best audience marker for this non-mainstream and boldly narrative film for our times is the fact that after it was over, I had a terrible urge to read Graysmith's book and learn more about the phenomenon called the Zodiac Killer. Not since at least Stone's JFK has there been a film with an investigative theme this good. Bravo, Mr Fincher!!! PS: The comparisons with Se7en are stupid! Fincher has made a distinctive work, and he didn't set out to create some silly clone.

Definitely one of the best bank robbery movies. Not only the drama and the game about the lives of the hostages and the two criminals, but also a bit of a portrait of the times (with allusions to the unlimited power of unions in the States at the time, the power of the media, the Attica massacre and the then despised homosexuality). A de-facto reconstruction of a real case, where it turns out that the best stories are written by life itself – in the first half there are many twists and turns and absurd situations, and with the arrival of the FBI agent, a psychological struggle begins, where you can cut the tension and the whole thing is watched in one breath. The young Al Pacino was already phenomenal at the time, and the master of supporting roles John Cazale with his unreadable expression ably seconded him. Sidney Lumet made several gems, this is one of them, and along with the likes of Arthur Penn, he is one of the most underrated filmmakers of the 1960s and 70s in my eyes.