novoten

Bond is running wild. The honest data disk to Casino Royale, which lags in the ability to operate independently. The scenario moves into a more classic dimension, James' emotional hesitation remains credible, I immensely enjoy the action, and above all, Daniel Craig loses the look of a wild beast who has been given a license to kill and behaves like an elephant in a china shop. Bond keeps killing, but with style, elegance, and I must say, with a certain sinful pleasure. The Bond girl (the classic one) is here briefly, but exactly as the fans want her to appear. Beautiful, slightly annoying, but in the consequences of James' deadly charm, also helpless. In Olga's portrayal, Camille is an equal partner, although she cannot fulfill the ancient fate of Vesper by principle. And the main hero remains seemingly insensitive machine that won't back down. During the screening shortly after watching the previous escapades of Quantum, the motivation or credibility of the villains gradually runs out, but in the face of scenes like the deadly edited Austrian cat-and-mouse game, it doesn't fall behind much.

The number one in the title signifies the position of the creators' greatest motor sport in their personal hobbies. They want to tell us everything about it – or at least something about everything. As a result, it necessarily ends up somewhat fragmented in terms of the overall history of the Formula One race, but some powerful moments make up for everything else, especially for those of us who did not experience that deadly time. Paul Crowder and Mark Monroe build a monumental monument to everyone who paid the highest price for their love of stepping on the pedal, and it is precisely in the divided and emotional memories of past rivals, friends, or lovers that the documentary is painfully powerful.

The darker moments are adorned with pointed monologues, unknown beings appear photographed at unusual angles, and family values ​overwhelm trump everything around them. Despite its mild austerity, After Earth is ultimately a pure dose of M. Night Shyamalan, and it disappoints me that Night probably won't have a chance to climb out of the incomprehensible box of an underestimated artist. Because, aside from a few harsh basic lessons about the laws of nature, I would follow this path to salvation to the highest level. 85% and a great desire to ge that chance at least one more time.

Another opportunity for an entertaining-adventurous film wasted. Emmerich's straightforward childishness and honesty with which he tells his stories fascinated me at times. However, as a result, the film is just a tired fable in which cavemen speak English with a Middle Eastern accent, mammoths build pyramids, and the last remnants of adventure are saved by a five-minute scene with a saber-toothed tiger.

Desire for adventure, desire for solitude, desire to live. Danny Boyle translates a relatively trivial story into a highly personal level, where no hallucination is purposeless and no flashback empty. With the breathtaking James Franco and a visual that never rests, 127 Hours becomes a magnificent spiritual cleansing and also the most intimate story. It is simply a difficult task that passed with flying colours and made me, despite the inconspicuous warning, desire to rush somewhere headlong, making it perhaps the biggest surprise of the season.

A naive story that provides laughter with the exceptional acting performances in tense moments, but thanks to its short duration and perfectly intense action, it is so electrifying that it would knock you out as well. Without a pause and without any weak spots.

Black Hawk down for good. After watching the murderous footage and a more than thorough introduction, it is clear that this is a dream project, whose author was unrestrained and thus able to fulfil his greatest wishes. And although the motivational speeches or threats about dead Americans bring to mind Pearl Harbor with their quantity, it only slightly diminishes the experience. When it comes down to it, Grade AAA Action comes to the forefront, proving that Michael Bay simply never gets old, but matures in his own way. Every salvo or explosion surpasses everything you could possibly see in the genre with its dynamism, and the increasing fear for the main characters drives towards an overheated and even more exhaustively satisfying finale for the audience.

I was expecting a cynical hero locked in a scary room. And I got a cynical hero with past trauma locked in a treacherous room, which can scare you so much that unexpected visitors will not be welcome at that moment. Even in the horror genre, there is occasionally a surprise that won't easily leave your mind and that you would gladly experience again, despite the unpleasant dose of fear. Cusack's The Raven deserves this privilege.

An impactful, audiovisual thriller work that is nearly perfectly crafted in terms of the gradation of all key moments. Blake Lively effortlessly navigates through all positions, and when she emerges onto the board/whale/rock just a few centimeters away from the jaws of a shark, I thought I'd be left with the cinema armrests in my hands. Therefore, it is a pity that in the end, it doesn't deviate from going predictably over the top and you have to say goodbye to a great show as it instead turns laughable. Those genre boundaries that Jaume Collet-Serra skillfully tried to sweep away for a while are needlessly beaten up by the shallows at the very end.

From start to finish, a formally perfect spectacle where I marvel at how much work went into each shot and how many trenches had to be dug for each scene. However, the captivating visuals are where it ends. The heart-wrenching journey did not captivate me even for a moment, the narrative style forces me to reminisce about many genre predecessors, and in the end I only see the most clichéd war story, which it fundamentally is.