Lima

It looks almost like a loose sequel to Woolen Story, but in the kingdom of ice and snow. They used the same animation method, a simple background painted with colours and characters made of woolen yarn moved by stop-motion, only that it’s visibly more demanding. In fact, it has the same main characters, a blue doll with a dog, who fight with a snowman, and there is always a flying feathered creature who wants to steal something from them. I clearly remember that as a little brat I was terrified by the scene when a little man is drowning in a frozen pond under a block of ice and at the last moment the snowman pulls him out frozen like an icicle. The interesting soundtrack – a kind of disparate sequence of strange sounds – was again provided by Zdeněk Liška.

A little crazy, I’d say. I confess that as a kid I didn’t like this fairytale. I was always haunted by the sun throwing its rays like some hateful UFO. The story is simple: a little blue woolly man walks with his dog in the desert and dreams that he will reach the sea with a sailboat. On a tempera-painted, predominantly orange background, which is supposed to play the part of a hot desert, Týrlová moved figures (a doll, a dog, a lion and a sun) made of – so unusual for hand animation – woolen yarn. The scenes, starting with the hateful sun and ending with sci-fi-like claws made by Zdeněk Liška, almost resemble avant-garde art.

The stage: a table in the front yard. The characters: animated sewing supplies that jump out of the basket and take on various human or animal characteristics. Two balls of yarn change their shape into characters, the pink ball becomes a girl and the blue becomes a boy. The woolly boy plays a needle (flute) to lure the cobra (the tailor's measuring tape), then fights against it, sitting on a horse (needle) and holding a knight's spear in his "hand" (a needle again), uses a needle as a jumping pole, etc. etc. The animation of the self-taught Týrlová is incredible and in terms of difficulty it’s on par with the animated glass figures in Zeman's Inspiration. It’s a shame that it’s so short (8 min.).

I’d say that the traditional martini is a thing of the past for the new Bond, Craig looks more like someone who sips energy drinks. When we left the cinema my friend said: “Mate, didn’t we make a mistake? Wasn’t this Hulk by any chance?“ We didn't, but the fact is that Bond's casualness, elegance, wit, insight and typical ironic puns have probably gone down the drain with the dashing Craig. To make an animal analogy, Bond has always been something of an easy-going German shepherd for me (with the exception of Dalton), while Craig's Bond is a purebred brawling pit bull. I'm not complaining, just stating dryly, but I'm not really enjoying this newly set Bond universe. That said, it was a pretty decent action flick.

I tried to succumb to this epic animated movie, but it was of little use, the enthusiasm I experienced when reading Conan and Rahan comics imported from the former Yugoslavia during the previous regime were not there. Perhaps the chaotic story and zero identification with the heroes are to blame, but the character of the constantly scantily clad princess and a certain animalistic action prove that Bakshi, as a very distinctive filmmaker, had something going for him :o)

Snowflakes, snowflakes, snowflakes.....Mark's furrowed brow, digital boogeymen.....and snowflakes again.....Well, I'm certainly not going to bemoan the fact that the movie version of Max Payne doesn't resemble the game (I've played both games), because they're two different worlds with different expressive language, and watching Payne mow down his opponents in slow motion from start to finish wouldn't be very entertaining either. Unfortunately, Moore's film is so narratively out of place, failing utterly to draw you into the plot, and the script was written using the tried and true crutch of "you can't think of anything you want to talk about, so throw a secret government project in there and wrap it in wadding, it'll work somehow," to the point where I felt sorry for Mark Wahlberg. I quite like him, but with his eternal boyish mug, he's absolutely wrong for the role of Max Payne, he lacks the necessary manly charisma and it doesn't help to frown and grit your teeth forever, Mark. So, what’s left? Not a fish, not a crayfish, not a dark bloody noir, not an action flick, just such a forgettable fart into the world of game film adaptations.

Pleasant surprise. The brilliant observer of human relations Oscar Wilde certainly played a big role, so the polished dialogues were a pleasure to listen to (especially Tom Wilkinson's apt and slightly ironic observations on life), as was the wonderful atmosphere of the 1930s (precise period design and pleasant period music), and it went by like a Swiss watch. And on top of that, further confirmation of what a wonderful and underrated actress Helen Hunt is!! A Movie with a capital M.

Turning a comic book adaptation into a fatal drama of almost classical proportions? Only Nolan can do that. I would consider the most problematic part of the story to be perhaps only the beginning (which is not so much the fault of the film itself as my unpreparedness for what the ride has in store for me), when the viewer is forced to jump on and swim for a while in an inflated plot that rolls forward like a tsunami, but once you tune in to the right wave, you are in for a delightful experience. The biggest plus of Nolan's film is the fact that the action on the screen is always one step ahead of your expectations and ideas, in other words, that it is constantly and continuously surprising (the Joker's stunts, the outcome of the dilemma on the ferries, etc.). And the Joker? Whenever he appeared, I would shit little bats with bliss (I would make a bedtime story out of his dialogue with Batman at the police station). Heath……And the Oscar goes to…

Wasn’t this supposed to be a failed parody with Leslie Nielsen in the main role? And Ice Cube is as tough as me after two shots of Becherovka.

Legendary blood feast by gore maniac H.G. Lewise. My friend and I summed it up clearly with a smile: "You couldn't ask for a bigger piece of shit", but in any case this is an unforgettable film that you can tell your friends about. Leaving aside the gore effects, the film missed its cinematic language by about half a century – the theatrical performance of the lead actor, an incredibly static camera that doesn't move, doesn't zoom in or out, very minimal editing, and everything underscored by the monotonous sound of a trumpet, which fortunately isn't very audible, so it doesn't get on the nerves so much. And, of course, above all looms the brutal tropes of the wizard Montag, who seems to be following the classic Dario Argento's motto that "Death is best suited to beautiful women": hypnotized blondes experience a chainsaw slash, a massive iron spike in the head, a cutting pipe in the stomach, swords shoved into their mouths, and lots and lots of red paint and ketchup all around. As a study material, or a sort of "walk" through obscure film worlds, it is passable, but I am very reluctant to call it a horror classic (in the words of one of the characters in Reitman's Oscar-winning Juno).