Remedy

The prototype of a teen movie whose target audience is not necessarily limited to teenagers. A midcult masterpiece helmed by director Olivia Wilde in her debut, which makes me wonder why Olivia Wilde didn't take up the craft of directing much earlier. If you thought you could never find a near-artistic experience and great cinematography in the teen genre (or if you were convinced beforehand that none of the target audience could care less), Booksmart will convince you otherwise. And it's not just the camera work, because Olivia Wilde's creative contribution is remarkable in every way. The vast majority of the running time is comedy, but it works exceedingly well when emotions arise to convey the fears and insecurities of the two protagonists to the viewer. I appreciate the BAFTA nomination for Best Original Screenplay, but there should have been many more nominations and awards here. I honestly can't think of a better take on the subject at the moment, aside from the TV series Euphoria (though the only common denominator is that it's also about teenagers), which likewise won me over (though of course for very different reasons). The whole film really does go by incredibly quickly, which is of course a credit to the talent of Olivia Wilde, the great script, and the top-notch actors. In the end, this is a damn fine teen comedy that has both brains and heart.

This thing is completely oozing with "Aronofsky" (which needn't necessarily be a bad thing), unfortunately I couldn't help internally rating it "WTF" at some points and I really don't mean that as a positive. It's certainly thought-provoking as an allegory for a life full of personal ambition and desperation to succeed in the big movie world. The transformation of the main character is interesting on the whole, but only to the point where the plot starts to veer towards the overly spiritual. I understand that the sectarian theme is actually secondary here and only serves as a means to satisfy its own ambitions, yet I couldn't help feeling that it was actually overblown in some places. And the soundtrack, which in the vast majority of cases would be more suited to a giallo film, didn't add much to it either. But the van gore scene was worth it.

A great example of how an inventive and imaginative creative team can turn a potentially flat digital spectacle into a hugely entertaining flick. Here the old truth applies that the presence of a more interesting character can significantly elevate even a genre this lowly. The holy war led by Samuel L. Jackson's character or the immensely likeable guide played by John C. Reilly fit this mold to a tee. And it doesn't matter how gracelessly they act (especially Samuel L. Jackson) because their characters simply have balls. I can hardly recall a similar film in recent memory that passed by so gracefully and yet still gave me a royal good time. Wickedly good CGI and great period songs complement this popcorn flick, which despite its objective B-grade qualities has a ton of A-grade attributes and is technically almost perfect.

It's admirable the sensitivity and experience with which Noah Baumbach was able to capture the emotional state of two people whose marriage has fallen apart and are getting divorced. It's hard to come down on either side, as momentary sympathy for one of them changes very quickly when the condemnations and harsh backbiting come out in the divorce proceedings and custody battles. Yet by the end, you don't really feel any resentment or deep sympathy for either side, because they're both part of all this depressing events and they're both going through it the same. You simply have to somehow divide that sympathy between the two of them, unless you're either an orthodox chauvinist or a feminist. I barely took a breath during the opening scene.

My favorite author of the books for Gone Girl and Sharp Objects has teamed up with the director of 12 Years a Slave to knead together a sort of female variation on the heist movie. It actually turned out pretty well, but I can't help feeling that more could have been mined from the material. Anyway, I have to appreciate the attempt at originality, at least in the sense that the main characters did not choose their fate and were basically pushed to it by external circumstances. The whole story thus becomes much more fateful and all the attempts at social resonance seem quite credible. And it might as well have been called A Frightening Legacy.

A straightforward space opera that's built primarily on divine visuals (it's totally badass in UHD) and appealing performances from Chris Pratt and Jennifer Lawrence. Overall, it's an ultra-romantic, at times seemingly heartrending space adventure that apart from the flashy visuals brings no surprises.

A Stephen King dense psychological charade that is masterfully played out, but doesn't deliver a sufficiently full-blooded resolution at its paradoxically literal conclusion. Flanagan is at his strongest in the first 45 minutes, showing excellent work with mise-en-scene and suspense in a very limited space. The problem comes when psychological themes start to mix with mystery ones, because at times it really comes across like spilled tea. Not to mention the flashbacks, which certainly had a solid place in the plot but often felt unnecessarily lengthy. If there was anywhere that should have been cut more, it was with the flashbacks. Overall, though, a solid genre affair that will definitely have it’s day on Netflix.

A brilliant South Korean effort that takes shots at class issues with unconventional grace while maintaining an incredibly funny detachment. In this respect, all the jokes and references to North Korea are extremely successful and cool. Plus, in terms of filmmaking, it's really very professional and in some ways even a hair more progressive than mainstream Hollywood. The self-conscious alternating of genres then becomes the icing on the cake, reminiscent of the earlier bright period of South Korean production. Its international renown is well deserved, as this is truly one of the best films of 2019.

A brilliantly sound edited but slightly self-indulgent arthouse wank that's even less accessible than The Witch. Still, there's something captivating and hard to define about it that makes it worth seeing (ideally in the cinema for that sumptuous sound). A farting Willem Dafoe, annoying seagulls, lots of bodily fluids, and mermaids as sex symbols. It wasn't bad, but I was expecting a bit more. Of the new wave of "modern horror" I much prefer Ari Aster, whose Midsommar was a boatload better.

Porn made up of explosions and self-indulgent action scenes that (unfortunately) doesn't have the necessary balls of Michael Bay's earlier work. The worst thing about an action movie is when you start yawning, which happened to me quite regularly here. Michael Bay unfortunately loses all reason and completely unceremoniously lets his uncontrolled and frightening imagination run wild. The result is an extremely tasteless film that presents all its characters as mere pawns used for action orgies. As lobotomizing weekend entertainment, it's pretty good, I just feel the need to humbly suggest that the 150 million could have been spent more effectively.