lamps

The third Thor comes with completely new ambitions and a narrative direction that openly creates an entertaining and almost parodic equivalent to the previous Avengers stories, where the humour is definitely unleashed and the stylization of the fictional world and the refreshing management of the not-quite-classic plot take on multi-genre dimensions that we haven't seen in Marvel before. Waititi to me is the blockbuster director of the future.

A film worthy of its own stylistic and systemic analysis like no other from the 1990s. The definition of perfection of the popular concept of the manhunt, it’s unique both in its surgically precisely escalated plot, where the rhythm of the alternating scenes with the fugitive, the hunter and the key flashbacks is perhaps as melodic and balanced as any Mozart symphony, and in the development of the three-way battle itself (the falsely accused, the pursuer and the real culprit), who strategically chase each other, and have an unprecedented impact on the aforementioned escalation (first the pursuer goes after the accused, then the accused begins to search on his own for the real culprit, thereby drawing some of the pursuer's attention to him, and by the end the culprit is chasing the accused to avoid full disclosure). The performances of Ford and Jones are of course excellent and the music is top-notch, but The Fugitive is above all an absolutely stunningly constructed narrative that doesn't let up and plays with the viewer's expectations brilliantly, both on the level of the whole story and individual scenes (withholding crucial information to temporarily mislead the viewer into believing a threat to the hero like in Silence of the Lambs). A true gem of a film.

When I get tired of my wife, I'll take her to Chumlee, I’ll be the first person in history to pay to get rid of my stuff. Yes, it's all pre-arranged and staged (it's a reality show, not reality) and yes, the customers are beautifully ripped off in public (it's a pawn shop, not Who Wants to Be a Millionaire), but it's so much fun to watch that if I could choose what I wanted to do in life, the first place would be to work with this fun bunch and the second would be tasting new products from Czech breweries. The principle is always the same, but each episode offers a funny scene around a purchase or a family conflict, the viewer learns a lot of interesting things mostly from American history, and all four main characters somehow become endearing. When I don't have anything to do for 20 minutes, I don't put on The Simpsons anymore, I put on Pawn Stars. Chumlee's dubbing is genius in itself.

I was looking forward to it like few other films this year and in the end I can't say I was disappointed. Sheridan proves once again that he can create depressingly isolated fictional worlds where moral values are reshaped along with the experiences and beliefs of the characters, to whom the viewer either quickly finds their way or gets lost along with them. On these psychological scales, the script is confident and intelligent, relying on the act of murder itself as a simple symbolism of racism and the impossibility of getting out of a difficult life situation. We mostly sympathize with the characters and root for them on their journey. Unfortunately, however, the film is 100 minutes long, a good hour of which is devoted to the somewhat bland construction of the detective plot and repeated sighing about how life isn't fair (which isn't enhanced much by Renner's character's past, reeking of cliché a mile away), and for the rest of the runtime, the truth comes with an unexpected and smoothly scripted detour that essentially sidelines the existing detective storyline and emphasizes the psychological depression even more, but that again fizzles out quietly at the end without leaving a harrowing emotional wound. Big thumbs up anyway for the performances, the work with the cold snowy environment that I love so much, and the overall realism, culminating in a proper shootout that immediately aspires to cult status. Sheridan still has to mature as a director, and we can look forward to great things.

The new Blade Runner bravely tackles two, shall we say, existential problems. Firstly, it wants to be a good Blade Runner, and secondly, a dense, complex mainstream film able to turn a profit. While it fulfils the second "duty" almost without trouble, presenting a mature story edited with the precision of a pensioner checking a receipt after a purchase and narratively constructed into an ingeniously schematized dialogue with a repeatedly doubting viewer, who is pushed into later questioned interpretations (and the fact that the film hasn’t make that much money is only the fault of the dumb herd of ignorant fans of shaky audiovisual attractions), with the former, it flounders slightly, bolting its slow, sensible pace onto a cool narrative with a classical structure, albeit very skilfully, yet fails to produce the desired cathartic effect, and to subordinate and bend all the structural elements entirely in favour of the psychological and emotional development of the plot, which the original film (though I'm not really one of its devoted admirers and don't find it groundbreaking) undoubtedly did. Still, I can't help but be enthusiastic about the purely audiovisual spectacle, which simply makes up for all the shortcomings. The atmosphere is breathtaking thanks to the amazing cinematography and the incredibly intense soundtrack (Zimmer scores again with the chilling connection of the music to the diegetic space of the futuristic world), I haven't marvelled at such pure science fiction ideas (the physical connection with the virtual Joi) for a long time, boredom is the last thing I would have got from Villeneuve's inventive editing transitions and the conditioning of every beautiful shot to the overall narrative, and I would have chiselled the entire sequence from post-apocalyptic Vegas in stone and tattooed it on the chests of every beautiful woman on the planet (it would have been doubly a joy to behold). It's far from a perfect film, and I can understand the disillusionment of some fans of the original, but for me every second was like a Christmas present that I intend to give myself repeatedly and happily in the future. Gosling is very good, Ford for President. 85%

Mixed feelings. In its stylistic signature and finale, the film doesn't stray too far from the average of what intimate mystery fans are accustomed to, but by conceiving a story that is constructed in a non-classical manner, satisfyingly tackling the psychology of the characters and avoiding even the slightest complexity, Shults scores big and holds the audience's attention like a crafty filmmaker. I have to admit I was constantly tense and wondering what might happen in the next minute, and that doesn't happen every day with American productions. I'm keeping the fourth star for myself, because the second time around I probably won't have anything new to discover and the effect will wear off.

A hugely impressive mystery that relies not only on excellent performances and music, but more importantly on thoughtful direction that gradually builds up to a chilling finale that slams the door of accumulated depression and distress in your face, leaving the freaked-out viewer in the same room with characters. The clever structure of the plot and the gradual revelation and explanation of various motifs leaves no time to breathe thanks to masterfully executed time transitions, and Jack Gold manages to keep his characteristic authorial signature despite the constant work with expectations and genre duality. Plus Richard Burton in perhaps his most iconic role, and certainly his scariest. 90%

In the end, nothing groundbreaking or approaching the genius of the book, but what is certain is that not many such thoughtfully told and beautifully crafted nostalgic horror films are made in Hollywood, and it’s definitely worth going to the cinema to see this one. If nothing else, Muschiatti's deft directorial touch and sincere approach to the voluminous subject matter has made me want to read the book version of the story a third time, with great pleasure.

A good one-night stand. Little Viktor is the Ugly Betty of mutant maniacs and he would like to see everyone around him chopped into pieces, for which he has a lot of space and it's usually quite funny. His victims are satisfactorily sketched from complete morons – from hysterical little ladies to a couple of nice guys – so you can both enjoy the creative murders and keep your fingers crossed for the more normal ones in the end. It's boorish bollocks, of course, and the dialogues are not very good, but the heaps of insight, a few very good jokes and a cute morbid ending help it keep its distinctive parody face and the viewer just doesn't get bored. 60%

It has moments of true genius (I roared with laughter at Baby Groot's uncontrolled actions or at the gathering of duct tape in the heat of battle), and the relationships between the good guys are very well and systematically developed within this episode and across the overall story, but the plot ..... It’s a wretch covered in Drax's excrements, famous for their size, where everything is somehow understandable and logical, but at the same time lacks a moment of surprise or more funny situations that would not only come from the constant bickering of the peculiar characters and the endearing boorishness of Drax, who this time around is the clear highlight of the film. And it's already disappointing when it comes to being the sequel to a megahit that managed to make a big script-tight joke out of the flat schemes of its Marvel peers a few years ago. There may have been a lot of insight and an attempt at constant humour, but the whole outline and progression of the villain's obstructions reeks of boredom and unoriginality, and the viewer is just dumbly counting down one standard comic book twist after another. But I'm nonetheless looking forward to the next kick ass adventures of this bunch because I still see a lot of potential, with or without Rocky. 70%