Isherwood

Solomon Kane meets The Wicker Man. The film is a thoughtful look at militant faith, fanatical atheism, and man's ability to believe without limits in everything he cannot explain. Sometimes you can't do anything else, but everything has its limits. It’s all set in the dirty Middle Ages where fights with the fist and sword are commonplace, so we see plenty of limbs rolling around in the mud. It's not a horror film in the slightest, but it is thought-provokingly rich. 4 ½.

Objectively, this is probably Marshall's weakest film, but in the "bloody historical carnage" category it's still a strong above-average film. It rests mainly on the director's sense of maximum blood (never mind that it splashes digitally) and charismatic actors. For an hour and a half where nothing actually happens, the film is fully immersive and makes you feel that sometimes there is real beauty in simplicity.

I gave Hřebejk a chance after all these years, knowing with malice that the subject matter would destroy him and I would be able to continue to say with satisfaction that things are getting worse and worse with Czech cinema. But I was surprised when he and Jarchovský staged a series of twisted family relationships as a steamy thriller, in which Šácha's fantastic cinematography works its magic, capturing a plethora of accomplished actors. Hřebejk takes the viewer through a series of escalating situations, the two most perfect of which (the love triangle meeting, the argument in the woods) I will probably never get out of my head. I humbly apologize and keep the fifth star in reserve for when I watch it again. The question is whether I will ever have the appetite for it again.

There is no big controversy here, and no Balkan video to shock conservative viewers. Rather, the film is a cruel bore in the regime of a better amateur snuff film. In its desire to explicitly depict everything that involves the main character's dick, it actually brings about so much that, next to this, the French film Martyrs seems like an elaborate horror epic worthy of textbooks. There are three questions in my head: a) what is wrong with the director, b) what did the actors think during the filming, and c) what's the point? I don't have a satisfactory answer to any of those questions. It’s shit that is not even worthy of the increased attention it has received, let alone a better review. PS: The ending is a parody of itself, in the style of the bloody geysers of Peter Jackson's first films. For real. :-)

I want to read the book because I’m interested in how the narrative is constructed and more importantly what it is about! The film version is a whiny hodgepodge of nothing about a pissed-off brat who deserves two "educations" right off the bat. It is better not to worry about the (non)plot and not to look for the final measure on the scale with the word "weird."

We wish to make our dreams come true. We can't really materialize them unless we use film technology to do so. Inception is a perfect example of when dreams become reality and we can escape from reality into a dream. Unfortunately, we perceive it as exactly the opposite of the characters in the film. Two and a half hours go by like only a few minutes.

From the moment of the log in the balls, it’s a self-serving extreme, but until then a brilliant acting psycho. Unforgettable, but never again.

The course of history sometimes takes sad directions, where in certain situations we have to wait 1,200 years to rediscover things. And yet, even after so many experiences, we are not able to think better of it and learn. This is a producer suicide and one mirror elegantly set to today’s Islam on how faith, so necessary for many, can easily be swept down a path of fanaticism that knows no bounds, nor respect.

The individual parts are great (especially the ones set "to music"), but the whole is a cliché seen a thousand times, which doesn't have even a pinch of drive, especially in the second third. The cynical introduction is a pleasure and the ending has fantastic gradation, but there have been plenty of such anti-system revolts and Sapochnik is unfortunately only able to impress for the average length of a song. Law is great, whilst Whitaker has a tendency to overact. Thumbs up for the unceasing geysers of blood! 3 ½.

Series from HBO productions are, except for minor fluctuations, a constant in the field of quality spectacles. The Argentinian section has said goodbye to the stereotype of the dull soap opera and has come up with a dark crime drama that can be envied far and wide. It's not a big deal in its own way and the means of expression are more or less learned from their North American counterparts, but in this case, the primary means of engaging the viewer is the catchy plot. A killer with a carefully thought-out plan, police officers guilty of their own conscience, and a heavy atmosphere all around, thick with cigarette smoke and soothed by antidepressants. No one present is actually blameless, but they do earn our sympathy. From the tired Renzo, through the uncompromising blonde badass Marina, to the chillingly smiling Bruno. I didn't feel the need to finish it in two nights, but I spent quite a lot of time thinking about the "what and how" between episodes.