gudaulin

Bridge of Spies, or Spielberg's successful attempt to sell the Cold War to mainstream audiences. Spielberg can without exaggeration be called the uncrowned king of midcult, and I do not mean that in a derogatory way. He simply has the ability to direct a film in a highly professional manner and to process any subject matter in a way that makes it accessible to the average viewer, not just the elite festival crowd. However, this comes with a certain pleasing quality, a smoothing of edges, and the ability to squeeze out emotions and move the audience, and not always at the right moment. The touching music in Bridge of Spies really got on my nerves at times. Spielberg's characters are in the right moment at the right place and express the right words and thoughts. He presents history and events in a somewhat more noble way than how they appeared in reality. In some aspects, Bridge of Spies is similar to Schindler's List, although it does not remotely reach the manipulative distortion typical of that film. I am more drawn to the approach that Polanski chose in The Pianist. If I want to see a film without softening filters, I have to look elsewhere than in Spielberg's workshop. What can be fully appreciated is the high level of professionalism, the ability to create beautiful and impressive images (the 1950s are more vivid there than in reality), and Spielberg's mentioned ability to time scenes appropriately and work with human emotions. Spielberg is simply a storyteller who sometimes tweaks stories for the sake of effect and educational messages. From an acting perspective, I have no objections, and Tom Hanks is a representative of Hollywood's elite who is more than suited for this type of role. For informed viewers, Bridge of Spies has one more negative dimension, which is typical of similar artistic reconstructions of real events. You simply know how it turned out with Colonel Abel and Powers in reality, and the tension just doesn't happen, despite the efforts of the screenwriters. Overall impression: 80%.

The most interesting acting performance in Icy Breasts is undoubtedly that of Claude Brasseur, who handles character acting better than Alain Delon. Mireille Darc as the mysterious woman delivers her standard and actually doesn't have to try too hard. Her appearance speaks for itself. The film is at its strongest when it still hasn't revealed where it's heading, while the screenwriting game didn't turn out as well as it could have. However, attentive viewers will soon gather enough clues about what is happening. Not to mention that Lautner's direction is not particularly impressive. Overall impression: 60%. I would say it's standard French genre filmmaking from the 70s.

My first two encounters with Claire Denis's work ended in disaster and I swore that I wouldn't be burned for the third time. But sometimes you are wrong and reality changes. This film attracted me because of the setting and the subject matter, and I must say that although I feel like I don't have to change my opinion about this arthouse director's work, this time we got along quite well. I still feel certain mannerisms in her work, such as mixing shots in a style where you have to search for things, and what is the end and what is the beginning, which are typical elements of her work. Yet with this film, she held back quite a bit, and it's clear that she knows a lot about Africa and this theme is personal to her. I had a lot of mixed feelings about her previous two works, but I didn't get lost in the story with this one. Overall impression: 75%.

One star is for Naďa Konvalinková and one for Jan Zadražil. The play is performed with enthusiasm and brilliantly, but in terms of content, it's just flashy nonsense. Yet in the first few minutes, I felt that I was in for an amazing entertaining ride, but little did I know that the story of the clash between a dominant mother and an immature son would soon turn into utter absurdity. Some light exaggeration is fine, but here it escalated into absolute nonsense. Overall impression: 40%. Sometimes boundless enchantment is close to unpleasant disillusion.

The most interesting thing about this film is how long I avoided it, even though it is a title that appears in the TV stations' lineup three times a year. Director Novák used the visuals and atmosphere from Sequens's The Sinful People of Prague, but shifted them into a comedic tone. The second source of inspiration was the work of Karel Kachyňa, who often nostalgically returned to his childhood. However, compared to both famous sources, it is evident that the result is somewhat lacking. It feels more like a promenade of First Republic figures, sometimes interesting, sometimes more provincially uncle-like. Most of the sketches lack lightness and the script feels somewhat unfinished. The reliable performances of proven actors such as Heřmánek, Kostka, and Somr save the film overall. However, compared to Czech productions of the last two decades, I still lean toward giving it a tiny fourth star. Overall impression: 70%.

I do not share the boundless enthusiasm of many others for the series. It appears like it was created during the late perestroika period, not in the 3rd millennium. It deals with taboo topics from the Soviet era, starting with the brutality of the Stalinist Gulag and ending with widespread antisemitism. However, some of these themes are only touched upon, while others are softened - the harsh and uncompromising approach of the NKVD commander is more than balanced by the fatherly approach of the commanding general and other staff officers. Just when one feels that the series is capable of touching upon the sore spots of Soviet history and healing wounds, there comes a line that feels like an undeserved slap in the face. For example, when the commander urges doubtful soldiers to return to the safety of the camp and enjoy their rations without having to work. For one thing, it obviously has a modest budget and cannot impress with its production design. Worse is that when there are sporadic combat scenes, they are filmed in an unremarkable and confusing way. On the other hand, the cast is one of its strong points. This generation of Russian actors is not that well-known, although they are often top-notch actors who are a joy to watch. Overall impression: 60%.

This is a film that stands precisely at the intersection of two genres. The director evidently wanted to make a serious psychological drama, but if I were to watch the film in this way, I would take a much more critical stance and evaluation. It works much better as a psychological horror about a psychopath who systematically destroys his family. When regarded as a lighter genre, the film reliably defeats its mischievous genre counterparts and is interesting in how it radically overturns traditional stereotypes about the relationship between mother and child. The film tells the story of the crisis and downfall of one family in a disturbing way. Tilda Swinton seems to have been born for the role of Eva, as her relationship with her own child develops confrontationally from the very beginning. Where others see angels, she sees an enemy. Beneath the facade of a contented middle-class family, tension grows, the atmosphere thickens, and attitudes become radicalized. The screenwriter cleverly doles out information and actually only reveals the tragedy of the whole case and the depth of the main character's pain and conflict in the end. For Tilda Swinton, the role of the mysterious and silent Eva was probably the same opportunity that the role of Carrie was for Sissy Spacek - with the difference that this film significantly surpasses Carrie in its qualities. We Need to Talk About Kevin is a dark, unpleasant, and depressing film. If it were not only skillfully and effectively directed, but also more restrained and ultimately less unequivocal, it could also function as a powerful psychological drama. Overall impression: 90%.

Most adaptations of Shakespeare's plays suffer from excessive respect for the classics, and they carve marble and speak in flowery language. A  large group of viewers are convinced that this is the only correct way. Haprdáns is not for them. However, those who love irony, sarcasm, exaggeration, wordplay, and their meanings will appreciate it. Anyone with this kind of mindset will greatly enjoy Haprdáns as a crazy version of "Hamlet." I also feel that Vyskočil's version is much closer to what could actually have happened at the Danish court. Ivan Vyskočil, as a connoisseur of the human soul, stripped away pathos, romance, and noble ideals. Only the human foundation and the technology of power remained, which actually didn't change much over the centuries. Unlike the classical "Hamlet," Haprdáns gets by with the absolute minimum of corpses. What wins in politics and human history is usually considered the truth, and this time the winner needed very little. Overall impression: 85%.

A film of two completely different parts, although I don't mean that it is divided exactly in half. In the first roughly third, we watch a heavy social drama in the spirit of the best traditions of British film school, only for the film to increasingly clearly sail into the waters of Canadian production specializing in so-called stories based on real events in the following minutes. It is heavily average and the originally strong story becomes a banal anecdote about the miraculous success of an outsider. The ending is then framed with the most clichéd clichés, like when the hero bursts into the middle of a company meeting and confesses his love with a stuttering voice. Surely you have seen the same thing at least 20 times in various romantic comedies, but here it really hurts. Overall impression: 55%.

Undoubtedly an interesting film, but it has its limits due to the era it was made in, the governing political system, and its ideology. It's not just about the fact that in Jasný's film, the communists are portrayed as someone who is respected by the camp prisoners. That was actually true in reality. Their unity and (almost religious) faith made them significant players in the struggle for survival. The problem lies in the ideological and uncritical perspective. The past viewed through contemporary value filters inevitably distorts the image (which, by the way, applies to any era - including the present one). If the same film were made at the end of the 60s with necessary script adjustments, it would likely be an exceptional film. In the imaginary duel of two thematically and content-wise related films, the Slovak film The Boxer and Death confidently wins, even though only two years separate them, there is a deep gap between them in their artistic expression. Overall impression: 60%.