Matty

In its ability to capture the importance of a certain moment in a young person's life, Eighth Grade is as comparably convincing, sincere and unsentimental as Call Me By Your Name (the monologue delivered by the character of the father also ranks among the highlights of both films). Don’t expect a teen comedy. The film is mainly a drama, sporadically sensitive in its approach to the main heroine and occasionally humorous. Many films merely talk about the need to be oneself. Eight Grade understands that need and shows how terribly difficult it is to accept oneself, to overcome the fear of being embarrassed, of not being cool enough. Age does not play such a role. Some people still experience a battle between their nature and peer pressure even after reaching adulthood. Burnham’s feel for the nuances of the life of the socially anxious internet generation and his understanding for one slightly timid girl of above-average intelligence are exceptional and I hope that he will make more empathetic portraits of young protagonists like this one (or Lady Bird, The Edge of Seventeen or The Diary of a Teenage Girl). This is a film with which I definitely want to spend more time and appreciate more how it involves the soundtrack in the storytelling and how cleverly it works with, for example, the interaction of the main protagonist and her surrounding environment (by means of subjective sound and the size and sharpness of the shots), thanks to which we perceive and experience the surrounding reality just as she does. And, without any exaggeration, Elsie Fisher should be nominated for an Oscar. 90%

Koreeda further develops the theme of alternative family models that do not depend on blood relations, but rather on what is shared by those involved (he again works a lot with taste memory here) and whether they feel comfortable and safe together. At the same time, the film shows, but by no means excuses, the dubious foundations of some interpersonal ties. The members of the “family” are united not only by love, but also by financial dependency or a dark secret that is gradually revealed through well-thought-out dosing of information (there is thus a pseudo-detective storyline that keeps us in suspense until the end). Because the head says something different than the heart, there is no simple answer to the question of who should ideally stay with whom at the end of the film. Replacing exposition with the gradual revealing of the protagonists’ past and strengthening of the ties that unite them contributes to the variability of the relationships and forces us to constantly reassess our opinions of the individual characters, among whom Koreeda “democratically” divides attention. At the same time, we get an uncompromising cross-sectional sociological view of modern Japanese society, from teenagers who either prefer to go abroad or to receive money for “swinging their breasts” (and offering company to emotionally deprived young men), through the working class that has a form of certainty, to seniors killing time with gambling machines. At its core, Shoplifters is a rather simple drama that is dark but not completely hopeless, while also being complex in many respects. Like all of Koreeda's films, it is characterised by a slowly paced narrative (divided into several blocks divided by fade-outs), a jagged mise-en-scène and economical yet precise camerawork that involves no unnecessary movements and adapts its point of view to the individual characters according to the needs of the narrative. Though Shoplifters does not in any way manipulate you emotionally, it can, without applying any pressure, bring you to a point where all it takes is for one character to utter a single word and you will find yourself in tears. This is further proof of Koreeda’s unpretentious mastery of his craft. Though it is perhaps formally less inspiring than The Third Murder, more accessible to viewers than Nobody Knows and not as fragile as Still Walking, it is still one of the best-directed films I’ve seen this year. Twice so far, but I will definitely come back to it. 90%

I have seen and am reviewing only the director’s cut of both parts of Nymph()maniac. For five and a half hours, the narrative about various methods of physical (self-)satisfaction, which is unsatisfying for viewers, confronts the two greatest themes of all Freudian directors – sex and death. The most striking merger of the two occurs during a drastic miscarriage, at the end of which Joe trembles with arousal, and in the chapter with the dying father, whose black-and-white picture and tone of emotional blackmail give such a (pseudo)artistic impression that it is most likely one of von Trier’s many tactics aimed at depriving viewers of what they want. In the course of both films, he employs a disturbing number of diversions, notional parentheses, jumps in time and changes in the style of the narrative in order to evoke a feeling of unease that makes it impossible to unobtrusively construct a story. The film brings to mind Zanussi with its hypermedia-style encyclopaedic layering of information, Buñuel with its thematisation of fetishes and unstable identity, Bergman with the intimate exploration of relationships, and Tarkovsky with its spiritual excitement (including a direct quote from The Mirror). Though this eclectic and intermedia compilation of styles is held together by the framework narrative, I would not call it a coherent form. How could there be a coherent film that is constructed as a dialogue between two seemingly incompatible worldviews (asexual and nymphomaniac) into which von Trier constantly tries to draw the viewer, whether by shattering visual taboos (I have never seen a more graphic depiction of abortion in a film) or by breaking down the fourth wall between fiction and reality (the camera reflected in a mirror, obvious parallels between the provocatively free-thinking views of Joe and von Trier himself). Despite all of the sexual explicitness and the extreme suffering of the female protagonist, the treatment of the female body seemed less exploitative to me than in, for example, Blue Is the Warmest Colour. Even though the woman becomes a sexual object several times, especially in the first part, and through most of the film her happiness depends on the man’s stamina, availability and abilities, her depiction elicits pain, compassion and disgust more frequently than pleasant feelings. In this context, the most beneficial scene of the director's cut may be the aforementioned abortion, which, with an openness that I believe will be particularly unpleasant for men, demonstrates throughout both films the intensified forms of defending a woman’s right to decide what she does with her own body. Showing us what we do not want to see is closely connected with consideration of that which we do not want to think about. In my opinion, such a provocation makes sense, like Nymph()maniac as a whole. 75% for part I, 80% for part II.

Sonny & Jed is a boorish spaghetti western with elements of a crime film in which there are signs of the Italian western subgenre pushed to the verge of parody. Justice is truly blind from a certain moment, and there is not the slightest hint of a positive character. The unbearable protagonist is no exception. Jed, gorging himself on a plate of spaghetti in one scene (probably to prove that we are in fact watching a spaghetti western), behaves like a repulsive animal and shows the least respect of all for women, which comes back to bite him in the ass in the climax. After ninety minutes of the verbal and physical humiliation of Susan George (who suffered even more here than in the controversial Straw Dogs), however, that is merely a miniscule feminist band-aid. Though Morricone’s music elevates the story, it cannot prevent the occasional feeling of embarrassment for the filmmaker, which otherwise arises rather while watching crude comedies with Fantozzi. 65%

I was afraid that Flint Town would be a recruitment video heroizing the American police and celebrating their militarisation. However, the image that the series offers is more complex than that and testifies to the creators’ ambition to shoot something like a documentary version of The Wire. ___ Over the course of eight episodes, we follow an underfunded police department in a city with one of the highest crime rates in the United States. Members of the force speak openly about their fatigue, disillusionment and fear of losing their lives and jobs. Their loved ones also fear for the cops’ lives due to the growing number of attacks on police officers. Locals, who face guys with loaded rifles strolling around courtyards, from which they sometimes shoot, then complain that they often have to wait for several hours for a police patrol, because shooting was reported at three other locations at the same time. The community’s mistrust makes sense, but we see that individuals will not change much without support from those in higher positions of power. ___ The behaviour of the officers in the field occasionally borders on unjustified bullying and the documentary does not in any way makes excuses for them. At the same time, however, we understand their heightened vigilance and we know that they are poorly paid and have to work overtime. The police chief attempts to prevent the further deterioration of the already restricted conditions by all possible means, for example by selling discarded police weapons to Flint residents with valid gun licenses, which is a decision that probably best illustrates the absurdity and cyclical nature of the crime problem… The presidential election (the series began production in November 2015) is approaching, and while the “white” segment of the police force hopes for a Trump victory, which they expect to bring greater investment in the repressive apparatus, the black police officers wonder for whom Trump actually wants to make America “great again”. ___ A large part of the material was shot at night; the cameraman delights in grand details and artistic compositions with an orange night sky and figures standing alone in the landscape, ominous atmospheric music plays in the background, and we hear the heartbeat of a cop’s unborn child. At times, it is reminiscent of Michael Mann’s noir thrillers; at other times, it brings to mind an apocalyptic horror movie about a city that is just waiting for someone to set it ablaze. In some ways, Flint Town is excessively tense, but it is in any case an impressive and beneficial work that, overall, adroitly balances on the thin ice and attempts not to anger either conservative or liberals too much.

This film offers an elementary overview of the motivations, structure and objectives of the FEMEN movement as they are perceived by its individual members. The word belongs exclusively to them and their loved ones. Interviews are interspersed with scenes of activists preparing for the next event and in the course of everyday activities (train trips, cooking, baking). The choice of “action” music during the protest scenes is the best indication of how the movement itself wants to be perceived. However, this self-stylisation is balanced by more down-to-earth comments on women’s hopes and fears and completely non-heroic shots of women who are exhausted and (temporarily) defeated. I Am Femen is not in any way an exhaustive documentary, though it does offer a useful introduction to the topic, enabling viewers to what “sextremists” are on about and why they chose the tactic of exposing themselves in public.

Even though Eeyore was my favourite nihilist before Bernard Black, I never became a member of the Winnie the Pooh fan club. Therefore, I was curious about Christopher Robin, a sort of sequel to the previous animated films, mainly because of the director and one of the screenwriters (mumblecore veteran Alex Ross Perry, whose influence is apparent especially in Eeyore’s heavy existential lines). ___ A total of five screenwriters alternated in and out of the project during its development, which may be the reason that the result seems so clumsy and disorderly, and that the film never gets a firm footing and does not work as family viewing, as Disney apparently intended. The story, which is about an overworked man focused on profit and performance who evidently suffers from PTSD due to the war and neglects his wife and daughter until he rediscovers his inner child thanks to a talking teddy bear (and a pig and tiger and donkey) or, rather, until he stops denying his existence and hiding the talking stuff animals from others, is mainly inconsistent. At times, it is basically a serious drama about an empty, bland existence, and at other times exaggerated slapstick (especially the scene with Gatiss, who is reminiscent of villainous capitalists from classic Hollywood movies). The style is predominantly very naturalistic, with desaturated colours, a hand-held camera lying alongside soldiers in the foxholes of World War II, and animated characters that look like actual soiled stuffed animals from the protagonist’s childhood. At still other times, however, its playfulness lends the film a touch of liberating magical realism á la Paddington (chasing Pooh around the station, the final pursuit). The rhythm of the narrative is similarly unbalanced, as it lacks momentum and a clear aim. The film is unable to decide whether Christopher’s priority should be his family life, his career or his relationship with Pooh, as if completely forgetting about one of these motifs for a moment and blindly following another instead of somehow cleverly combining all three. Some scenes take too long to get to the point (the fight with the Heffalump), while at other times a segment of the story explaining how a character gained certain information seems to be missing (for example, Madeline’s knowledge of the napping game). ___ The film is in large part too serious and sombre for children, and is even frightening during scenes from the fog-enshrouded Hundred Acre Wood (especially in combination with the red balloon, which is apparently intended as a reference to Albert Lamorisse’s film, but it’s impossible not to recall the psycho clown from It). For adults, the film is sloppy in dealing with the rules of the fictional world, unconvincing with the forced optimism of the conclusion and banal in its approach to psychology (the miraculous transformation of Robin’s thinking), relationships and corporate capitalism. ___ At a time when we need to more vigilantly watch where the current world is heading and act accordingly, the central idea that doing nothing and looking nostalgically to the past can improve our present and that our childhood misses us as much as we miss it is a bit off base (though fully in accordance with the constant churning-out of remakes of old films and the fetishisation of past decades, not to mention that the call to live in the present will certainly resonate strongly with today’s proponents of concepts such as mindfulness). Other films (such as Toy Story 3) have dealt with a similar idea more sensitively. But in the end, this idea was the main reason that Christopher Robin was made and more or less holds together. 60%

In comparison with other Sorrentino films, The Family Friend is less accessible due not only to its ambiguity of meaning, but also to the fact that a repulsive, usurious troll occupies its centre. Also, it does not help us to decipher the symbols borne by shots that could serves as images in a gallery (human figures take on comparable structural significance as inanimate objects), nor does the director make it easier for us to approach the protagonist, whom I personally perceived with a distant view, similar to that with which we watch horror-movie monsters. Though the inspiration from Scorsese and the aesthetics of commercials and music videos are obvious, this narratively complex film makes more sense as a grotesque horror film about the selling-out and emotional coldness of today’s society than as a cool story from the underworld. Just as Geremia boosts his self-confidence by humiliating those who seemingly cannot hurt him (though in reality they are no less rotten), Sorrentino delights in formally giving greater meeting to scenes in which nothing exceptional happens outwardly (shopping in a supermarket). The deeper essence of unexpected encounters of form and content become apparent only in retrospect, after the initially incomprehensible segments are placed in a broader context. Thanks to the operetta-like performances, the lives of the lowly characters offer commentary on major issues. A Family Friend is an unpleasant film that gives nothing away, works better in whole units than in non-vitally impactful details, and quite blatantly exploits the female body, but it is still purely a film by Paolo Sorrentino, whose distinctive directorial style I must admire despite the (intentional) repulsiveness of the film’s content. 70%

Previously it would have been a biographical drama or a heist film, but to express his political viewpoint this time, Spike Lee uses and reworks for his own needs the conventions of cop films about dual identity. The obstacles that the heroes have to overcome in accomplishing their mission come not only from the outside, but also in the form of their colleagues and superiors, who are unable to let go of their own prejudices and represent a system that disadvantages a certain part of the population. The pairing of two disparate characters serves for more than just creating comical situations that bring levity to a serious topic. It is also a condition for the implementation of Stallworth’s bold plan and, at the same time, expression of the film’s central conviction that the path to success is conditioned by cooperation, the struggle for shared values ​​(though each one is completely different, they appear before the KKK members as one person), which can also be understood as a disputation with blaxploitation films, whose style BlacKkKlansman imitates. ___ The two protagonists start to think more about their respective identities following confrontations with white nationalists, who see them, as a black and a Jew, as a threat comparable to the plague and cholera. For example, in reply to the question of whether he is a Jew, Zimmerman initially answers “I don't know”. He later admits that, because of assimilation, he had never thought about his Jewishness, but he is now beginning to reconsider his position. Like his partner, he stops taking his infiltration of the Ku Klux Klan as nothing more than a job, as it becomes a personal matter for him. While Stallworth stops running away from the fact that he is black, Flip begins to proudly defend his Jewishness “thanks” to a group of anti-Semitic imbeciles. ___ Racists legitimise their words and actions by creating artificial enemies and spreading fear of a race war or the Jewish-Bolshevik conspiracy. Their vocabulary plays a fundamental role in this, though it does not have any sort of richness and displays an elementary ignorance of grammar, but it is also expressive enough to elicit strong emotions and attract unthinking crowds. Emotions replace the ability to work with facts and to argue more thoughtfully. One of the bigots reveals the absence of elementary logic in his attitudes when Flip warns him that it is nonsensical to deny the Holocaust, during which several million Jews were murdered and was thus the most amazing event in history from a white Nazi’s perspective. Within the KKK, relationships are established exclusively on the basis of shared hatred. Joining the organisation is conditioned by knowledge of the hate code (various terms of abuse for anyone who is not a white heterosexual American). However, it is necessary to make the language of this closed group widely known, for example with the aid of Hollywood epics such as The Birth of a Nation. ___ The wave of racially motivated violence in the 1970s was a backlash to some of the minor victories achieved by African-Americans in the previous decade. Similarly, the strengthening position of the extreme right in America today, stoked by the statements of the sociopath whom Spike Lee calls the “Orange motherfucker” and “Agent Orange”, can be seen as “retaliation” for the eight years of the Barack Obama administration. Lee’s film is permeated by parallels with current events in the United States and Europe. Even without the shocking postscript, it would be clear that, as in his earlier films, Lee used a historical theme to draw attention to the persistent intolerance of certain social groups. Though the style changes, the essence remains and the world will continue to need many heroes like Ron Stallworth and Heather Heyer. BlacKkKlansman says as much, perhaps without much nuance, but urgently enough to open the eyes of at least a few people who do not yet have totally whitewashed brains. 90%

This damned hot summer can’t be over soon enough. But in the case of Kirill Serebrennikov’s Summer, I’d be happy for it to last longer. This is despite the fact that it basically consists of a story-less series of musical performances by obscure Russian bands and partially animated musical sequences (which, conversely, feature hits by famous Western musicians). The burgeoning love triangle has a certain dramatic weight, but due to how loose the relationships between the characters are, it cannot have very painful consequences. Nor does the apparatus of the state put any serious pressure on the artists. The bohemian rockers encounter officers only once and deal with censorship easily and with humour. Despite that, we are constantly aware of the danger faced by the free environment that the protagonists have created around themselves in a country that is not free and the tone of the narrative gradually changes from the initial summer contentment to a melancholic premonition of an impending downfall. The final scene, which sums up this fleetingness of life with the aid of two blunt titles, is unbelievably powerful and timeless. ___ Summer is a film in which, as in Russia (or, for that matter, Czechoslovakia) almost nothing happens in the early 1980s. Just repeat the official government actions and speeches, always captured here somewhere in the background on a television screen, with which the regime shapes its (self-)image and maintains the status quo. Rock music, whose lyrics are about free love, alcohol and rebellion against the system, naturally disturbs this order. While musically it mainly involves (progressive and indie) rock or New Wave, the film is a somewhat punkish affair in terms of narrative, which adheres to most of the principles according to which drama should be structured. The rhythm is set by the songs rather than by plot twists. When the film loses its breath, one of the characters, who communicates with other inhabitants of this fictional world as well as with the viewers (to whom he continually announces that what we have just seen never actually happened), helps it get a second wind. However, it is seductively easy to get carried away by the narrative thanks to the film’s tremendous spontaneous energy, catchy songs, numerous outstanding and probably labour-intensive audio-visual ideas (the film’s highlights include the covers of cult records “coming to life”) and, of no less importance, the black-and-white camera work, which shifts from character to character in long shots with a superb intra-shot montage and, together with the songs linking the individual scenes, contributes to the impression of a smooth flow of events. ___ I realise that the film borders on being too dramaturgically lax, that it does not have to so thoroughly take on the cyclical repetition of certain situations that were typical of socialism, that the characters do not undergo any fundamental development and that the end could occur at virtually any given moment (it would have made perfect sense to me if the credits ran after the film appears on the screen and immersion in the sea). I therefore understand that Summer can be an arduous experience for viewers who do not see it from the first few minutes. For me, who had goosebumps even during the opening song (and then several more times after that), it was a totally liberating experience and one of the most accurate cinematic depictions of everything that I associate with summer. I would like to experience a summer like this every year. 90%