novoten

I won't lie, despite the growing frustration of the audience, I feel sorry for the creators. The pilot, after all, felt like an undemanding romantic comedy with a likable main character, whose almost touching plan didn't work out. But right at the end of the first episode, when faced with the most dreaded office humiliation, all the fun ends. The chosen Audrey turns out to be an ordinary girl who doesn't know what she wants, and Ricky, her coworker and partner, becomes more annoying the more prominent his storylines get, not to mention the unbearable Patti, who is not even worth getting started on. The only ones who can bear the whole misery with dignity are Brian and Roxie, who serve up even the most obfuscated quips with a charitable detachment. The second star in my rating is purely out of mercy because the occasional good idea (a remake of Casablanca with a coast guard theme) proves that there was the seed of a pleasant sitcom somewhere in that muck. However, that's where it stayed, and the predictable end of the entire season proves that there is no way forward. The cancellation was a liberation for this group.

How the Hero met the Demon King, they fell in love, and it turned into a love like no other. Oh, and by the way, also a new method of agriculture. Maoyu searches for storylines in truly unconventional places, and even though it does so a bit hastily, it immediately earns my sympathy. Whether it's the pleasantly exaggerated personalities of the main duo, the surprisingly well-done animation of occasional war scenes, or the inability to even guess for most of the time what the next episode could be about. Yet this is where the fundamental problem lies. From the irregularly changing pile of supporting characters, only the melancholic Maid Elder Sister and the Knight managed to win my heart. Although the others have enough potential, when the only distinguishing feature of the Sorceress is her frequent tendency to fall asleep in the middle of important events, I don't have much chance of getting under her skin (or the skin of other similarly deprived likeable characters). Because the motivations of all rulers, churches, or potential villains are equally brief or unreadable, I have no choice but to stick with an average rating. With the number of realized or just impending conflicts, I am still pretty confused even after the last episode. If the length of the entire series were doubled, everything could have been more understandable and naturally better.

At first and second glance, the most transparent story imaginable for small children, about a boy who had an incredible amount of bad luck in life and had to fight for his place in the sun every day. And at third glance, it is not hard to spot the stereotypical characters and understand that the plot is progressing forward through jumps in time where clichés don't go far. But at each of these three glances, I am drawn in because the reckless Yuu is exactly the type of hero I have to cheer for and wish well, despite his many mistakes, and wish for him to gain every (involuntarily) acquired ally or even friend. And thanks to his sincere sullenness, there ends up being quite a lot of them. My personal anime book of courage and adventure.

Denis Villeneuve gives new meaning to tension and forces me to grind the backrest of my seat or scan the rooftops for unwelcome movement. But it's not just about raw action or unpleasant dialogue, dominated by razor-sharp lines from Benicio Del Toro. All it takes is the most banal situation, driving a car or just looking at the Mexican landscape where none of us would want to be, and I know it: I know that this is a war you don't win, and two hours in it were enough for a lifetime – and yet also enough to want to experience it again, multiple times.

A thrilling and nerve-wracking chase driven by a million-dollar idea, which propelled it forward. That alone would have been enough for a dazzling experience, if it weren't for Riley and her emotions taking it even further. The day after seeing it, every last one of us wakes up and ends up wondering who's currently running your head. At that moment, everything falls into place, and the second layer starts to work, where each plot chapter has undeniable significance. In the end, Pixar is reaching for immortality, because there will always be so many vulnerable and hurt teenagers everywhere.

There are boxes I will always enjoy watching get ticked, and a talented guy who destroys his talent in a fit of pride and euphoria is one of my favorites. I have no problem believing in such comebacks to the top, and only rarely does the template of a repentant jerk disappoint me. However, a well-written archetype is one thing; the failed culinary star played by Bradley Cooper is another. If anyone was born to play guys with a mischievous twinkle in their eye, ones you want to kill and kiss at the same time, it's him. The lesson about life mistakes that must eventually come to haunt you hasn't tasted this rich in a long time. Not to mention that Adriano Goldman's camera caresses all the treats of diverse names so gently that the result is a little treasure for everyone with open senses.

Season 1 – 90% – It's quite unusual to venture into the Marvel world and not have special effects or snappy one-liners at every turn. It works perfectly in movies with the most famous favorites from the red publishing house, and just as well in the series Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. And then along comes an inconspicuous guy with a blind cane who dresses in a dark tracksuit on his free nights, and everything is different. And yet, it's still excellent. The rumors were true, and Daredevil turned out to be a dark and shadowy coloring book, where every fight ends with the blood of one (or both) opponents, defeating an enemy doesn't necessarily mean beating the soul out of them, and where you can be sure that every mistake will cost you damn dearly. And thanks to the perfectly written dialogue, I'm truly certain of that. That's why even in episodes where it seems like nothing is happening and Matt isn't currently chasing any criminal element of any nationality, it's not advisable to be lulled by the seemingly very slow pace, even if you would prefer a higher frequency of fights, mysterious hints, or brilliantly acted monologues by Vincent D'Onofrio. The final quarter is such a deadly catharsis that waiting for the next heroic colleagues suddenly becomes more demanding. Welcome, guardian devil. Season 2 – 100% – Hell's Kitchen is just waiting for the high temperatures to ignite the inevitable spark, and the main characters are merely pieces on a terrifyingly large chessboard in the ensuing heat. I didn't believe that the scale of the series could exponentially increase, but it's true. Everyone has something to lose, every action has inevitable consequences, and the relationships between the main characters bring one heated moment after another, whether in a positive or negative sense. The biggest asset are the doubts and decisions of all involved. That's why I enjoy watching the main hero being pulled towards Karen as Matthew on one side, and towards Elektra as Daredevil on the other. A simple riddle and simple layering of identities results in an even more intense viewer experience. Even more fascinating is Karen herself, on one side connected with feelings for Matthew, and on the other, drawn by ideological harmony with The Punisher. And it is precisely there, in the person of Frank Castle, that the ace of the whole second adventure from the Marvel world lies. Jon Bernthal has fitted his avenger with the largest arsenal of weapons and such a tangible aura that he easily stole the entire season. I'm interested in all the characters, I'm rooting for all of them to the last second, but with the Punisher, I forget to breathe. A well-deserved spin-off. Season 3 – 90% – I definitely expected to spend long years with this red devil, during which he would once again meet all the partners from Hell's Kitchen and its surroundings, and hopefully even with some who have only hidden on the pages of comics so far. However, disagreements between those two giants Disney and Netflix have resulted in the opposite, and this last season proves how much of a huge loss it is. Luke Cage and Iron Fist were surprisingly dropped, but few people shed tears for them, whereas here it's noticeable how many storylines have been allowed to mature for years – and despite the reconciliatory ending, there was still a desire to continue at least once more. The most appealing thing is that it doesn't end on a grand note at all costs; on the contrary, compared to the ambitious second season, the action scenes or the scale of the plot have become unbelievably modest. Instead of a flood of ninjas and iconic antiheroes alongside the main hero, a damn stylish nemesis has arrived, one that even those who only accidentally stumbled upon Daredevil are familiar with. For some time Agent Pointdexter only resembles his prototype through his precise aim, but once the skeletons from the past start to emerge, it becomes clear that we're going very deep here. It's his toxic bond with Fisk, his tragically escalating relationship with (the discovery of the season) Nadeem, and his role as a mirror image of Matt himself that are the factors that make the final thirteen episodes a spectacle that, if not the best within the series, certainly unforgettable. The only downside is Foggy's family troubles, which hang tasks on his kindness in a clichéd and unworthy way. The rest is a carefully thought-out and, by Defenders universe standards, extraordinarily focused work that will be longingly missed.

This seemingly unfilmable collection of technical details and sarcastic monologues became surprisingly easy to adapt in Drew Goddard's hands. Albeit at the cost of simplifying or even completely omitting Mark's struggles with producing air, water, or stone inscriptions, meaning that his fate in the first half is not really something to worry about. However, in the end, where after all the disasters and crises the source material merely struggled, the effort to rescue the main protagonist turns into a strongly graduated symbiosis of all involved. The main triumphs are surprisingly not the great Matt Damon, but Sean Bean perfectly cast as Mitch and especially the entire crew of the Hermes, led by Jessica Chastain.

It's like I went back in time fifteen years. Robert Zemeckis tells the extraordinary story of an ordinary dreamer at his usual unpretentious pace, leading the main character to a breathtaking catharsis in the final moments. And yet it doesn't reach the quality of the similar Cast Away and Contact, mainly because this is exactly what I expect from him, and therefore the surprising or even seat-raising moment is missing. On the other hand, The Walk referenced in the movie's title is arresting, and shows in full force what could be sensed from the beginning: that Philippe Petit is not at all petite as artists go, but more with the heart of Le Petit Prince, far above us in his head and desires – in the heights that remain forbidden to mere mortals like us.

The journey to a place where the human body dies, in the story of people who knew very well how much they were risking, but still went for it. Nothing more, but certainly nothing less. And even though I don't understand the self-destructive behavior of the main heroes, thanks to the brilliant cast, I feel like I have at least glimpsed beyond the first summit. The intensity with which the highest mountain in the world siccs its pitfalls on climbers nails you to your seat, and the moment a storm appears, the cinema is already shaken to the core and the viewer knows they are in for a rough ride. And every gasp for breath almost hurts in your own lungs.