lamps

Cinematic rosebud. Amazing play with mise-en-scène, lighting and revolutionary management of the audience's attention. A great Welles and the greatest MacGuffin in history.

The episode where George Lucas's imagination was perhaps at its best – unfortunately. My impressions are aptly characterized by the well-known story of David Lynch (yes, that David Lynch); he was Lucas's main candidate to direct episode IV, and the two met in person before production began. Lucas started talking excitedly about all the weird SW characters and worlds, and Lynch, who wasn't interested anyway and only met him as a courtesy, told him it would be best if he directed it himself. And so a total unknown Richard Marquand was brought in and the viewer got a bunch of funny elves at the end of the greatest space saga of all time, among whom Harrison Ford, Hollywood's biggest dude, looks a bit like Mr. Bean driving a Ferrari. On the other hand, the storyline around Luke works just fine, the aura of the dark side is very tangible (even if it contrasts with the goofing around with the Ewoks), and the special effects are clearly the best of the trilogy, so we do get an exciting experience. I really wonder what it would have been like with the master of depression Lynch at the helm, but actually, thank goodness for that enthusiasm – without him, Star Wars probably never would have been made, so how else would it have ended? The new millennium will give us an ironic answer. 75%

Several ball-busting Ideas for every 20 minutes of crazy and variably funny filler. It didn't impress me, even as a fan of 80s B-movies, although I'd take it as a feature film from a capable screenwriter.

The cornerstone of the slasher genre and its best representative to this day. At times I had trouble with the plodding pace, but otherwise this is a masterpiece; Carpenter revels in point-of-view shots, unpredictably placing the masked gorilla in a carefully staged and photographed environment, and impressively delaying the climax in favour of a moment of surprise and a crescendo at the end. And there is no need to add anything about the music, no one will ever compose a better horror main theme.

You are a playful kid who sees a giant monster from outer space around every corner and imagines how you can become bigger up and give it a good spanking. And then you grow up and you make Pacific Rim. It's silly, with mediocre performances, and full of militant clichés, but at the same time it's crafted to perfection, with spectacular villains and one breathtaking scene, fully reflecting del Toro's staging mastery (the little girl). In the 50s, they would have sold their nuclear arsenal to the Russians for a monster movie like this, nowadays is past it’s prime, but it’s still fun. Ron Perlman rules.

A quirky psychedelic cult film that may well capture the atmosphere of its time, but for me it's absolutely outdated. I don't think ninety minutes have ever felt so long, even waiting at the dentist. I appreciate the great music, the awesome Nicholson, and the challenging interpretive nature, but you can really tell at times that the entire crew was smoking like Petty and Selma throughout. Not for me.

A very likeable parody of basic western tropes. It has poker games, bank robberies, stagecoach action, gunfights, and Indians. And all that works surprisingly well, though it has to be added, with the generous help of all the great actors (especially the brave Indian Graham Greene and Danny Glover's cameo, humorously referring to Lethal Weapon). At times the story crumbles into closely connected episodes, but it's really nice to watch and the atmosphere of the Wild West is guaranteed to be intoxicating. 80%

The fifth and the best. One amazingly directed scene after another, but the individual attractions never overwhelm the development of the story and especially the characters, whose interactions reach the peak of the series and surpasses even the triumphant third part. And it's mainly thanks to the perfect Rebecca Ferguson, who delivers a femme fatale of the juiciest quality. But the greatest praise goes to Christopher McQuarrie, who managed to present the mix of James Bond and Jason Bourne with the incredible ease of a master storyteller and craftsman – the development is unpredictable and perfectly punctuated at the level of individual scenes and the whole, the good and bad guys have understandable, or swiftly changeable motivations, the action sequences impress with their physicality and authenticity (again, hats off to Cruise, who has so far successfully tested 150 ways to kill oneself on set), and I downright enjoyed the elaborate symbiosis of music and image (and the opera scene based largely on it, which had me literally drooling with delight). It is perhaps a pity that the film slows down considerably in the last act and becomes stylistically stale, but on the other hand it continues to keep the curiosity alive and puts on an intelligent conversational face. More spy films in that vein, even Bond could subtly wink and take a cue.

I terms of script, it's still not as sharp as the Bourne trilogy, and Ethan Hunt ignores the laws of physics a little too much at times, but I can excuse the shit out of that, because MI6 is still probably the most entertaining spy action flick ever made. There's fatality, there's unpredictability, and there's a perfectly cheeky and brilliantly led incitement of curiosity (the rhythm of which is downright diabolical before the big reveal), but at the same time there's no shortage of riveting action set-pieces delivered with the requisite panache and always smartly inserted wisecracks. It's not a revolution of the genre, it's a pure homage to the traditions of spy films, perfectly adapted to the current trend and action drive of big blockbusters, while cleverly developing the fictional world and the established narrative and formal rules of the series itself. It's not better than the fifth one, which did a better job of marrying action with conspiratorial conversational twists, but it's undoubtedly an exemplary prototype of the technical possibilities of the contemporary blockbuster, with the gas pedal permanently on the floor and the narrative firmly grounded in tried-and-true old-school formulas. Perhaps I’ll add more after another mandatory stop at the cinema.

A big beater that goes about it differently – and very cleverly. Thanks to Edwards's thoughtful staging, choice of camera angles and point-of-view shots, we don't just watch the protagonists, we are them or with them most of the time. And the expectation game set up with this, which often misses a spectacular scene at its best (the absolutely phenomenal sequence at the Hawaiian airport is a prime example). This may annoy some people, as the monsters have long been shown only on the basis of visual cues from the human perspective, but for me it's an unbeatable masterstroke that builds an atmosphere almost as dense as James Wan's. The story is not overwhelmed by unnecessary diversion, but rather balanced between its Japanese models and the requirements of American blockbusters (spectacular action and visuals + clearly developed personal conflicts and the story of the main character). The spectacular action is truly spectacular (the entire final half hour in "hell" and the breathtaking parachute jump), and the human heroes are not annoying, both because of the brilliant casting (even the routine role of the militant boss is played by the charismatic Strathairn), and because they serve a secondary function in the eyes of the narrative, and their actions and perspective continually set the stage for the main stars – the monsters. In short, everything is so well put together that the story itself doesn't even have to make complete sense – an incredible win for a monster blockbuster. 90% By the way, it amazes me that the editors of Moviezone, people so widely familiar with filmmaking language and genres, can't appreciate such an impressive big film. Perhaps they should stop with the navel gazing every now and then.