POMO

It is enough to say that the end credits start with a self-excusatory note: “A Film by CAST, CREW and FRIENDS”.

How is it that in just a few moments of a single movie, Kevin Smith strikes the romantic chord in our hearts stronger than all of the Julia Robertses and Meg Ryans put together? And despite these moments being surrounded by jokes relating to blowjobs and cunnilingus? Kevin Smith is a light in the darkness of Hollywood artificiality.

The first half an hour of Wolverine is very promising, with its spectacular action, very nice work with mountain locations, a likable Hugh Jackman, a believable relationship with a hot girl, cool catchphrases (“I’m Canadian”) and Liev Schreiber’s badass super villain (he’ll have to fight off offers to play more villains with a stick). Wolverine starts off as a tastefully balanced mix of dynamic action and pleasant family adventure with some romance thrown in for a good measure... That’s why it’s a pity that the talented Gavin Hood must gradually submit to more and more stupid screenplay twists, which want to astonish the action-craving audience at any cost. The movie thus ends up being something between Doom and X-Men: The Last Stand. I’m neither angry nor disappointed, as this was to be expected already from the trailer. I’m just saying it’s a pity. These characters and the hard-working actors playing them deserve something more clever. Something like Bryan Singer.

Boring routine without any hint of innovation of the genre.

In the entire two-hour running time, this film fails to match the brilliance of its opening credits, and it generally requires more concentration and attention than what it offers is worth.

My Bloody Valentine is a TV production drowning in bloody brutality and using 3D effects surprisingly scarcely and unoriginally. Due to the screenwriter’s laziness (the only thing he’s able to do is conceal the killer’s identity), it’s probably the most retarded slasher flick in a long while. The only thing suggesting we’re no longer in the 1980s but in the world of contemporary cinema is the more modern pumps on the feet of one naked blonde, who gets murdered early on.

Despite being rather political and incredibly slow, this film is perfectly polished and, above all, very important.

Defiance is a pretty and good movie, but it could have been beautiful and excellent. Subject matter such as this is simply not served well by the simplified American view neatly dividing everyone into good and bad, and always supplying a dramatic last-minute rescue. The thing that I liked in Edward Zwick’s “fairytale-like” The Last Samurai cannot work in a drama about persecuted Jews. This is yet another vain attempt on the director’s part to ingratiate himself with the Academy. The actors and James Newton Howard are excellent, even though the latter steals from his own score for The Village.

The Counterfeiters is an interestingly conceived drama without unambiguously pure heroes, set against the background of accordion music, the likes of which we rarely get to hear in films set in concentration camps. The quality filmmaking and well-directed actors are a good fit for the attractive subject matter, which alone makes this film a must-see.

This film is easier to rate in comparison with the similar Swedish movie Evil. Both films rouse strong emotions and are equally assured in what they want to leave us with, but while Evil boasts attractive filmmaking craft, The Class is very limited in this respect. It’s filmed without any enthusiasm, as though using a hidden camera. The plot makes sense and shows some escalation, but both the screenwriting and visuals are utterly mechanical and unattractive. If not for the topical and urgent subject matter, the film probably wouldn’t have made it out of Estonia.