Isherwood

The screenplay, which is built on a skillful subversion of all genre clichés, is coaxed with sympathetic insight, but unfortunately, it already loses steam after a few minutes, when it gets bogged down in unnecessarily chaotic editing. The film remains above the average mainly thanks to its great cast, which later looks truly majestic on the count list (a busty blonde, an old man with a shotgun, a chatty ass-kicker). However, the truly funny moments are few, so the attempt at (self-)parody fizzles out, although it should be noted that the dose of hemoglobin very boldly exceeds the limits of most contemporary Hollywood horror productions. The unrated version rulezz!

Just like a children's picture book, this picture puzzle is filmed in an incredibly captivating way and the characters stand out beautifully. However, the film completely misses any deeper emotional impact in its picturesqueness, which is unfortunately due to the very careful handling of the provocative subject matter. This is due to the fact that if the relationship had been developed between heterosexuals, it would have been the perfect essence of kitsch, which, with the subject of homosexuality, seems more like a cheap pose than an effort to demystify not only the Wild West and cowboys as tough guys, but homosexuality itself.

I swear to God that if the dramaturgical group had not thought ad rectum, had better estimated the potential of Lucie Konášová's script, and had given director Strach a bigger budget, which would have been reflected in the set design, this film would have been an absolute fairy tale hit! The film is directed clearly, has a spirited plot, the dialogue and scenes are well-defined, and most importantly, it's an absolutely brilliantly cast. In it, Trojan and Dvořák furiously spout ultra-cool catchphrases, but still remain in the shadow of the phenomenal Jiří Bartoška, who is absolutely amazing with his disheveled hair as the Lord! It's unfortunate that the film was partly a standard TV production. If the director keeps doing things the way he has, his next film will vigorously stir the stagnant waters of Czech cinematic slop... I hope.

A brilliant thriller with the protagonist’s wonderfully elaborated paranoia, the logic of a conspiracy thriller worked out to the last detail, and last but not least, a nice dose of black-humored trivialization, through which Hitchcock ironically winks at the viewer every now and then. It’s formally impeccable (the cinematography belongs in textbooks!), the acting is spot on (Cary Grant delivering cool lines with icy calm and Eva Marie Saint as the femme fatale is absolutely amazing), and on top of that, the tension builds up to the fabulous ending on Mount Rushmore. A flawless film that reflects the image of one thing only - pure genius!

This sweetly naive anti-agitprop of the American nuclear program desperately lacks a sharper push in the main aspect, the overgrown ants, of which there are woefully few for an average runtime, although the artwork is impressive even decades later. The ants’ their squealing doesn’t stop the audience's hearts like it did in 1954, but the interplay of machine guns, flamethrowers, and grenades is much more so dead weight in the form of tired dialogue and technical lectures on the subject of "ants." For once, the fear of crowd panic, the distraction of intrusive journalists, or some sort of development of the relationship between the racy biologist and the shrewd fed does not come to fruition. Without a dose of these (for the genre) necessary clichés, the film was not destined to be more than an average monster movie that is neither thrilling nor entertaining. This A-grade production (technically, the film is one of the highlights of the era) should have been directed by someone more sophisticated, thus making it a cult "guilty pleasure" hit! Unfortunate.

Annaud's vision of prehistory is what it most likely was - harsh, unkempt, uncompromising, and cruel. His precise direction, together with the work of the utmost concentrated actors, who had to make do with basic sound and expression instead of words, create an absolutely unique and unrepeatable atmosphere. In it, in addition to the simple plot, there is also room for a few lighter moments, through a few poetically-tuned sequences to absolutely fascinating experiences, among which I must definitely count the encounter with a herd of mammoths. An unusual but all the more impressive viewing experience!

A well-written (especially the dialogues about crime and its consequences), clearly and imaginatively directed (the voyeuristic camera, the oppressive atmosphere of a "survival thriller"), and well-acted adventure for men. It lacks a faster pace in spots but overall is a strongly impressive affair, in which the absence of music (except for the guitar-banjo part) and one unbelievable rape are also noteworthy. An excellent film, after which a trip to the forest will never be the same again.

The bizarreness of Cronenberg's world in full effect. The intertwining of time planes, the predilection for death and autopsies, and the insatiable inevitability of mutual sexual attraction. Unfortunately, it all comes to naught thanks to the jovially- contrived screenplay which, with its final point, does not outsmart the viewer, but rather itself, by arriving a day late and a buck short, when the viewer was already expecting the same outcome for the umpteenth time. Although tangible, the author's idea to show the world his attitude toward computer games is nevertheless reprehensibly underdeveloped.

Bad Boys meets Collateral in Mann's most personal audiovisual fetish of his career to date. The film pumps atmosphere out of overshot testosterone (the perfectly flashy "look," the tough talk), only to then laboriously wring it out in adrenaline-fueled action that, while desperately scarce, is among the most thrilling Mann has made so far. The experiments with the digital medium are still questionable but he should be commended for his courage to use them in a purely mainstream matter for a general audience. Farrell and Foxx are a textbook example of a male friendship, but in terms of the personal lives of their great loves, the director could have put some more intimate words in their mouths, which are more important in such a moment than a formal debate in the form of amorous glances and sexual lust. Even so, it is a delicate spectacle, with a crime plot sufficient for an episode of a series presented in the form of the fluffiest cotton candy, which you quickly eat and only then realize that it was actually amounted to nothing.

A scripturally-neutered remake that completely disrespects the basic premise of the original film and bases the entire plot on a cheap crime-thriller that is sorely lacking in the mysterious atmosphere created by strange folk-song interludes and witty dialogue full of the conflicting mindsets of a forged Christian and a pagan community. Cage's cop Edward Malus is just a dry psychological sketch of all the menial clichés (the trauma of being on duty, the constantly recurring flashbacks), and at no point does the director dare to deviate from this template. Out of respect (in this case, however, it is a proper mockery) for the original, it sticks to the original outcome, but the final explanation is (like most of the "thematic" dialogues) just a bunch of pseudo-philosophical bullshit about harmony with nature. Unfortunately (not only because of the overacting actors but also because of the overall stupidity of the performance), it makes your ears bleed with every second word. Cage must have raked in most of the $40 million budget for his role because the poetically picturesque cinematography comes across as very cheap kitsch and overall it's a lame piece of trash that makes most people avoid the original rather than be impressed by it.