Marigold

Bergman in a Czech version? At least that's how I see it, because Vláčil's gloomy and soiled vision of the Middle Ages brings him very close to the Swedish genius. Like the ceremonial nature of gesture and word, the weight of a single image that seems to say nothing and yet speaks through every detail. Körner's script is constructed masterfully, building a staircase stone by stone to the final tragedy that emerges from the almost harmonious celebration of medieval paganism. Čepek, Kačer and other actors from the Drama Club brought a touch of theatricality, slowness, emphasis on every word and act to the story. Zdeněk Liška, for his part, confirmed that he was an exceptional composer; however, sometimes strangely, his secular and religious musical accompaniment precisely colors a quietly buzzing drama about two sides of faith. Although The Valley of the Bees was quite ruthlessly stomped by New Wave, in time it proved the dominance of a complex artistic statement over the period filmmaking experiment. With all due respect to New Wave, this is just a class better.

Beautiful science fiction that has everything that good science fiction should have. Excellent plot, nice tricks, convincing acting performances (god, this Pitt!!!) and, above all, depth, as is customary with Gilliam. Unlike Brazil, it is very accessible, but not trivial and cheap. Gilliam's manuscript makes this apocalyptic story a riveting and incredibly suggestive spectacle. One more science fiction that could be indelibly written into film history. Does Gilliam have a patent for that?

What to make of this film? In the first plan, it will impress you with absolutely amazing design and a novel visualization of Gilliam's world. Only then does a very strange story follow, and a very strange conclusion which, willingly or unwillingly, gives the impression that one would have to take support resources in order to inspect it. However, Brazil is a classic film with a tail, so it was only after a long time that I found that it fascinated me externally and left a strong resonance in me. I didn't understand why, but I still liked this visually riveting representation of human civilization (is it me, or is there really a bit of Kafka and Orwell in it?) very much. And in a way, Brazil can be seen as a successor to Monty Python's bizarre black humor...

Somewhat unoriginal and the humor is derived from The Holy Grail, but it is still hilarious. In addition, a future major personality of world directing, Terry Gilliam, starts making his solo appearance here. It’s an enjoyable film for a laugh. However, unlike the Monty Python sketches, there's not as much food for thought here.

And after the Circus gave us an insight into the dawn of modern civilization and its difficult knighthood beginnings, they inevitably had to explain to us why we were here. Short stories from different stages of human life, nicely edited and sharply spiced. Undoubtedly the most perverse stuff from Monty Python. Some scenes are a little weaker, but others are engraved in memory so that they cannot be removed even by applying solvents and thinners. Bring me a bucket, I'm going to throw up. Bravo, bravo three times!

A brilliant comedy through which the entire Circus has booked a spot in the hottest place in hell. The Bible of all vulgar heretics (right, Shnoff?), the Bible of those who like to laugh at everything... and the Bible. Those who are blameless, throw a stone at them, but if you are a woman, be careful not to let your beard fall off! A summary of beautifully-touted jokes that can offend apparently all believers of all faiths. But so what? Even if they crucify you, follow the first and only commandment: "Always look at the bright side of life". That's Monty Python's religion, that's a religion I always like to kneel to! Amen.

Apart from a few classic sketches (The Black Knight, The Bridge of Death), the "let’s grab some costumes and good ideas... Well, let's shoot something," is really evident here. After years pass, the whole loses its charm, and only flashes of python genius remain. The Holy Grail doesn't have Brian's brilliantly conclusive subversiveness or the emphasized cynicism of The Meaning of Life. It's a journey out of from nowhere to nowhere with occasional stops in an excellent parody of medieval folklore or historical films. No wonder the film didn't work originally and was helped by the addition of really retarded heroic music. The more I watch The Holy Grail, the more it feels like awkward transitions that lack both the madness and surreal image of Python sketches. I hate to say it, but... I'm bored with it... and I consider myself a big fan of the Circus.

What more can I say? This film is big! Thanks to Rudolf Hrušínský, great thanks to Ladislav Fuks' book, which Herz was able to translate into an equally suggestive image in an absolutely incredible way. The overall stylization and the very sleek, regular pace of storytelling accurately mirror Roman Kopfrkingl's heart, where everything unfolds in concentric circles, where the same sentences and the same thoughts are repeated over and over again, and where a morbid obsession gradually emerges. First death, then your own specialness. The inner life of a man whose whole world is built on a game, to deny reality and transform it into something bizarrely humble, kind, and sleek, including death. Hrušínský as a half-empty vessel, gradually filled with the poison of ideology and conviction of his own importance, is inhumanly convincing. So is Herz's entire film... The most suggestive portrait of the madness of man and time period that I know.

Who said only Americans know how to make great thrillers? Moreover, like Seven, this film is a small parable (though not nearly as complex) – a parable of modern man's relationship to violence. The film's only weakness is the slightly predictable and a long-lasting opening part, but once the plot unravels, there's a real feast of tension and fear. The ending is one of the best I have seen, and in it I saw our entire society and its relationship to so-called media ethics. That which we condemn others to high sentences for completely fascinates us. Because when it's viewed by the eye of the camera, it ceases to be real and becomes an event. Which, unfortunately, will no longer apply if you find yourself on the wrong side of the camera. And that's actually the basic principle of the film Thesis...

One of the strangest films I've ever seen. Grey is not only a name, it is also the color that characterizes the film – the story is actually presented in gray, thus taking away the sharpness of expressionist shapes and creating a kind of dreamy mist. And it's a dream that this simple vampire story reminds us of the most. Rather than a real vampire, it seemed to me that the film worked with the theme of "film like a vampire," a film like a medium that sucks the "blood" of reality that can trap the viewer in an alternate reality. Some of the shots are unforgettable, as is the atmosphere that accompanies this film. It's not scary, it's not tension, it's... something close to gray, but not boring. Rather, the sedation, the magic of the subjective gaze. In the end, I was damn glad when this suggestive dream ended. A film on the edge between the mute and the sound age, and at the same time a damn ghostly revelation. If you get a chance to meet Allan Grey, don't say no.