POMO

The Proposal perfectly exploits the potential of a formulaic, family-friendly Hollywood romantic story with irresistibly likable actors and a dog in the garden. It is a great example of a perfect commercial product / drastically limited possibilities of any filmmaking creativity. I like both Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds, but this was a bit painful. Why don’t the filmmakers of the 21st century copy the formula of Love Actually instead?

This apt, open, straightforward and cynical conversational film about relationships is proof that it’s not us humans who change, but the environment around us. The characters here face the same problems, achieving the same results as we do today. In other words, Carnal Knowledge is brilliantly timeless. It is also necessary to see Mike Nichols’ conversational movie Closer, filmed thirty years later, which seems to be an unofficial remake of this film set in a modern, even more cynical environment.

Jánošík did not choose the wrong direction and did not make any fundamental mistakes, but unfortunately it runs at half speed and has nothing to offer in terms of story. The script is inexpertly cooked up from legends, often insignificant events and presumptions pulled out of someone’s ass. It lacks a dramatic arc and the ability to engage the viewer (the same goes for the uninterestingly shot action scenes). That is really not a good thing, considering the film’s 140-minute running time. Why then, however, did I find this film pleasant, if a little boring? It has powerful intimate moments that the highwaymen spend with their spouses, you can feel the interplay of the characters with the beautiful Slovak countryside, and the music is more than good in places (not only the poetic melodies, but also the adventure ones). In short, it has the right shape and smell, but a weak framework. And Václav Jiráček might have the right looks, but as for personality, he fails to fill the shoes of the national Slovak hero. Jánošík’s stabbing with a hook is brutal, but it won’t move you like Gibson’s “Freedom!” scene from Braveheart. Three stars, because I gave two to the much worse Bathory.

This brilliantly written and directed “small” thriller offers up surprises and a message. All its filmmaking elements are subordinated to Sam Raimi’s directorial talent and there is no need to point them out one by one.

I, Robot was a pure studio movie – expensive, spectacular and bombastic, but also shallow and superficial. Knowing is a smaller, more modest film but also more personal and sensitive. Too bad that the not-very-original subject matter and weaker ending overshadow the otherwise perfect screenwriting and editing work, where everything from the detailed depiction of the characters and action dynamics to horror elements is delivered in precisely measured doses. Not to mention the fact that the special effects are not just self-serving eye candy, but are subordinate to a story with a soul. And I haven’t seen Nick Cage in such a well-fitting role for a while. Knowing is a high-quality small film that I’m rating higher than I expected.

To have a two-and-a-half-hour Tarantino movie with only two characters portrayed in detail with a proper backstory (Christoph Waltz, Mélanie Laurent) while none of them belongs to the titular “Basterds” is unforgivable. The “Basterds” are there just to give the film some sort of a weak framework; their potential started in the trailer and ended in the cutting room. All of the other elements of this flick are, however, *Cinema Paradiso*.

“How about it then?” A better finale than in Titanic. :-) From the amount of attention the film pays to certain characters, it is obvious that a lot more material was filmed that didn’t make it to the final cut. That, however, doesn’t change the fact that I really enjoyed this flick and the time spent with its characters. The film didn’t have any other ambition and I don’t require anything more.

The Tenant is a psychological thriller from Roman Polanski, which means it’s as effective as traditional American thrillers, but without their proven formulas. It’s refreshing to once in a while see a film in which the creator achieves the same effect in such a unique, personal way. This is called filmmaking art. And this art is made even greater by the fact that this creator is both behind and in front of the camera.

The same formula as that used in Borat (a weird European guy goes to make it big in America, accompanied by an assistant with whom he has a row and then they make up) is clad in a different and, at the same time, very similar type of humor. The humor in Borat, however, didn’t limit itself to anuses and a little adopted black boy – and that’s why I found it more varied, relatable and imaginative. Which doesn’t change the fact that Sacha Baron Cohen is one of the best comedians alive. I believe that his talent would also be enough for serious character acting.

There are Madagascar (or Ice Age) adventures, and then there are South American adventures. The first ones rely on dozens of funny characters, put together by a weak storyline about family values. The South American adventure contains only one funny character and the movie tells a story of wasted opportunities and fulfilling one’s childhood dreams (which may also have a dark side — a cleverly presented difference between a child’s and adult’s perceptions). Up is an animated movie that can only be fully appreciated by adult viewers (kids will definitely have more fun watching the Madagascar series). The highlight of the movie is the opening sequence, which briefly summarizes the life of the main character from his childhood to old age. It’s pure beauty. If the creators said “sod the kids” (which they obviously couldn’t do :)) and went on with this type of storytelling, this could have been my all-time favorite animated movie.