DaViD´82

No one can tell me that Jimmy Chin and his wife didn't originally intend this as an episode for Edge of the Unkown. But then, when they were going through the documentary footage, they thought “hey, we already have an Oscar for documentary, how about trying fiction, it's hard to get our hands on more rewarding material?” A powerful inspirational story about the indomitable willfulness of a willful, very difficult to get along with retired woman (at one time a record breaker, then a legend of the commentariat) who refuses to accept that she belongs to the old guard. As much as one could fault the unnecessarily drawn-out runtime and, despite the topic and the unused "unsparingness", it is carried by the central duo of acting legends. And they enjoy their strong characters, and virtually every scene they do together (which is 90% of the film) can be cut for an "Oscar showreel" without slipping into overacting even for a moment. More interesting "because it happened" and "because of how it's acted" than "because of how good the movie is", but in the genre of award-winning biopics, it's unquestionably a cut above the rest.

Fargo 1920. It's not riveting, but it's undeniably excellent. It feels like a miniseries accidentally put on in one piece, two and a half hours of taking its time with everything in style, and in the final hour, after a change of style, it's conversely stilted. One of those films that should have either been considerably shorter (and left out entire lines) or, conversely, considerably longer (and fully committed to each).

The first half, which follows Beckham’s career in England through its ups and downs, is excellent, evenly balancing the personal and the professional. With the emotions and other people's perspectives, it’s on his side, but that doesn't matter. Most impressive, of course, are the events after the 1998 World Cup. The problem comes with the last season with the Red Devils and the move to Spain and beyond. Things gets maddeningly patchy, with controversies (plenty of them, from falling out with whoever, parties, affairs, backing out of contracts, preferring business off the turf, declines in form), but no answers are demanded from David at all. Then the quick passages from his late career and post-career are a downright mockery of documentary decorum. It is true, however, that even so it loses none of its appeal. It undeniably has binge-watching qualities; it's hard to walk away from it. It's just that as excellent as the first half is, the second half is strikingly underdeveloped. PS: Mandatory after all the nostalgics (of which I am also one) who lament that mid-range bombs have almost disappeared from today's football, that it is no longer even trained properly and where are the times when gentlemen playmakers like Beckham, Nedved, Berger, del Piero, Carlos and many others could take and send one after another... You sobers up when you see after all these years how much time and space there was for preparation, guidance, checking the position of the goalkeeper and all the time no one was there.

The last film of a world cinema. A last film unworthy of its budget, scope, setting and ambition, but not in quality. The problem isn't that it reeks of theatre stage, or that it comes across as an underfunded TV production from the 1990s that would use some leftover sets and props from Law & Order. No, the biggest problem is that it's about the hundred and sixty-first adaptation of a classical naval mutiny drama (and that's still wiping out all those admitted and unacknowledged variations on the Caine/Bounty plot), and one that brings nothing of its own to the table; you absolutely don't recognize Friedkin in any of it. It's not interesting in its own right, it's not different from the other variations. Which is not to say that this version is worse or better. It's a good TV adaptation, of a good courtroom drama with a good cast.

It continues in the style set by Shin Godzilla; that is, a procedural satire that can weave in the bureaucratic processes of government institutions as well as paying retro homage to classic kaiju battles. The first half hour actually could work as a direct sequel to that film, it has the same “viewer unfriendly” static overhead shots of people sitting at computers (one sentence shot from the floor, with a blurry office chair taking up most of the frame and only the top corner containing the object of interest, followed by a cut to the next sentence to a shot as if under a monitor in front of a keyboard, etc.). In the second plane, kaiju battles, with seemingly awful CGI effects, but following in the footsteps of the classics with models and costumed dudes. But from the end of the second Ultraman appearance onwards it goes downhill, unless you are a die-hard Ultraman fanboy. If, like me, you're not, it will turn into a childishly naive episode from the original Doctor Who about aliens playing with planet Earth, secret organizations, nature, governments; and it’s boring. In fact, if it wasn't for the opening half hour, it would be more likely that Higuchi is not up to the task without Anna. Thus the fault lies purely with the uninitiated viewer, who lacks the context for proper fan appreciation.

Two commissions, two ambivalent narcissists and a lot of tensions, things left unsaid and affecting history. Unexpectedly emotional and working with characters for a Nolan film. Spectacular in all its intimacy, transparent in all the time-playing frenzy of characters, names, and events. Three hours of dialogue condensed into what feels like a much shorter running time. The tangibility of it all, the acting, Göransson's score, the editing... Everything is at the highest bar, but that's no the reason to love it. The reason is how it totally nails it, how it grapples the issue in an unscholarly way asking the big questions of life, and how damn good it is as a film.

An anime road movie about a journey through Japan from the south to the north and about meeting people and the adolescent self-discovery of a girl who doesn't quite know what to do with herself, her emotions and her loved ones. And by the way, in the second mythological plane, it's about fighting earthquake-causing giant tentacles, and that is the biggest problem with the film. On one level, it is melancholically intimate and relies on characters and emotions. On on the other, it's overwrought, especially during the monumental finale, which, however, doesn't clash with the rest of the film in style and delivery at all. And so, rather than the fight over the fiery plains, the most impressive thing in the finale is the emotional “passing of the wooden chair”.

It opens up important issues, such as the disruption of ecosystems (is it really disruption?) and the role of the "common man" in it. Is it right to protect a once highly endangered species even when it begins to flourish in one particular area and disrupts the established order? How to coexist with an overpopulation of seals (or seals merely returning to original numbers not remembered in the area by the current generation) that threaten the livelihoods of fishermen and attract man-eating great white sharks to the shores of tourist-dependent holiday areas, yet both seals and sharks remain untouchable? Is it right that a decades-old law that does not reflect the current situation is still in force? Is the safety of the people, a declining local economy or the protection of nature worth the price? Where does that fine line lie? And can it be balanced so that all this coexists instead of "either you or them"? Those issues are important, but the people behind this film have not extracted anything from them. They slide too much on the surface, giving space to every view, but none properly, which is a pity, as they chose the respondents and objects of interest well. The scene around the carcass of the humpback whale and the gradual packing up of "all those involved" is the most bearing and telling. It is worth watching, because even if the film doesn’t look for answers to its own questions and arguments, you can think about them over a beer and chat afterwards.

“Dude, it would be weird to work in a restaurant and not completely lose your mind.” A pressure cooker of emotions, insecurities, ambitions, characters, depression, food, joys, self-destructive behaviour patterns, anxieties and the enslaving daily routine in the "kitchen behind the scenes". All this in a frenetic, adrenaline-fuelled guise (it's constantly in motion, everything and everyone is spinning, five dialogues running over each other, etc.), but it's always first and foremost about the characters. The way they are handled, and how Storer wasn't afraid to do a 180 degree turn for the second series and still stay true to the concept – respect! It feels like an indie film from the 1990s, with Sorkin on steroids writing the dialogue. Despite all the cinephile allusions (Storer isn't afraid to repeatedly make it known how big a fan of Michael Mann and Ridley Scott he is), it's idiosyncratic, haunting, captivating. And despite (or because of) all the adrenaline, chaos and emotions, it can take you by the heart and devastate you as well as make you smile. | S1: 5/5 | S2: 5/5 |

The collaboration of the McQuarrie-Cruise duo is a well-established brand promising a modern take on old-school action in an edgy, thrilling and adrenaline-fuelled setting, and that is absolutely true this time as well. Many things could be praised, but the best way to describe it is that even though we've seen chases through ancient buildings in a small car or action in an out-of-control train countless times, the way it is paced, plotted and delivered here is both breathtaking and riveting in a way that will make you sweat your shirt off from the sheer dodging and clenching of fists. A genre film that defines (though does not redefine) the genre to the core. Too bad about the apparent lack of closure and the bland villain. Hats off and pure enthusiastic curiosity about where they want to take it in the finale.