DaViD´82

Most of the positive points of the first part remained, no need to address them. This applies especially to the actors to the last letter. But in fact it is all just a little pointless. The characters don’t develop in any direction, the “what, when, who and why" is basically obvious long in advance and even the story is not particularly interesting. It goes by like a long, stifling day in Provence. Because in fact it ignores the ending of Jean de Florette and waits until “that" character comes again. From the moment when he gets his revenge it is absolutely first-rate and criticism free, just a little superfluous. Although, Pagnol’s novel is more to blame for that here. Personally I would have preferred to see one perfect three-hour movie rather that two very good two-hour ones, but... Better than a jab in the eye with a sharp stick, though?

A commercial for the beauty of a sunny Provence through a cynically sincere story about people that is very close to my Czech heart. Because it’s nice to see that conmen and tricksters exist elsewhere than in our meadows and woods, but that they spring up like mushrooms anywhere they see an opportunity of getting their hands on some money. The best performances come from the trio of farmers. Although one would have to try pretty damn hard to get a badly acted movie with stars the likes of Auteuil, Montand and Depardieu. But this isn’t enough for a flawless experience since, in comparison to the excellent introduction, the middle part is unfortunately too ordinary and lacks a moment of surprise. It’s the same model over and over. Although I freely admit that I realized this only after the movie ended, because the music and camerawork disguise this insufficiency. But if you feel like having yourself a picnic in the park, open a good bottle of wine and enjoy a bit of countryside and forget about the crooks all around...

If there’s any genre of movie that I particularly love, it’s spaghetti westerns that the opening scene represents so beautifully. If there’s something I don’t particularly like, it’s the Italians’ madcap sense of humor. And if there’s something that I absolutely hate, it’s the Italian madcap sense of humor that falls completely flat that reigns with omnipresent lameness almost throughout the movie. Things aren’t made any better even by the trio of heroes, one of whom is bland, one is anti-nice and the affected Lucy is the real cherry on the cake of viewer suffering. At least the marvelous camerawork, music and a few moments when things work as they should pulls this genius, his two doltish partners and that dupe out of the mud.

This isn’t the best Indy I’ve seen, nor the worst; at the beginning it’s the same Indy, toward the end a slightly different Indy but beyond all doubt this IS Indy; despite being disgustingly digital in places. My heart throb again dons his scruffy felt fedora and returns to the silver screen in an adventure spectacular that we had been sorely missing for an interminably long nineteen years. Over the years several movies tried to fill the void and every last one of them ended up falling into that void. Some did so honorably, others didn’t. The revamped Indy fills the void, although not throughout. Ford’s age doesn’t slow the movie down, but it is an undeniable snag. And Shia doesn’t do much to shoulder the burden of his role as initiator of action. But if you love Indy, you’ll forgive him anything. It has its shortcomings. But what movie doesn’t? But they’re just shortcomings. There’s more digital landscaping than desirable, and too many characters end up sidelined and almost forgotten. With the exception of the Tarzan scene, which is the lamest moment of the entire tetralogy, no serious shortcomings crop up. But those monkeys and especially their leader well deserve to meet the same fate as their colleagues from the Temple of Doom. But still, sixty-five year old Junior walks all over those fast-buck movies made for one season. Maybe it seems “just" darn good right now, but what about in five to ten years’ time when people get over the ending. And that applies to me too. I really enjoyed the finale (a lot), but if they could have done without those over-the-top Lucas-style literalness, I would have been much happier. But the magic that surrounded the original trilogy is back. It’s true that it’s not as evident as it used to be and you may have to perform some fiddly archeological digging to uncover it, but it’s there, no doubt about it. The it I’m talking about is the pure essence of “movieness" which turns adults back into kids, critics into fans and kids into movie enthusiasts. So even this less strong (but not weak) fourth Indy expedition into film in my eyes didn’t manage to topple him from his position as my favorite hero of world cinema.

Jean-Baptiste has seen a lot of movies, has tons of ideas that he puts into good practice and again, after Dead End, proves that he’s certainly got something in him. Simon and David are an excellently matched pair of nice guys and Natascha certainly doesn’t spoil anything for them. At the beginning it seems that the only glitch is the screenplay that seemed to be living up to the title of the movie. But, starting with the scene with the cesspool, the black-humor, hair-brained storyline becomes the main powerhouse. In the end, nothing about Big Nothing is miraculous or even original, but it is first-rate fun. It reminded me of the beautiful experience I had watching Shallow Grave, although they don’t have very much in common really. The sort of movie that you expect big nothing from and then, hey presto, it turns out to be a very pleasant experience.

It is true that Any Number Can Win oozes dulcet tones of its genre, but what else would you expect with such masters in the shape of Gabin and Delon under the control of a director of Verneuille’s capacity. But instead of a first class symphony we get rather a plodding, unremarkable movie where no amount of numbers make any difference.

Oh yeah, it’s great to be in redneck territory. They make you feel good and welcome, they show you some picturesque nooks and crannies, play something catchy on the banjo and pour you some moonshine to wet your whistle on. But aren’t they a bit strange? Ooh, don’t come here with your prejudices... But John Boorman seems to have a different opinion. Good for him, because this result of his xenophobic paranoia is the best “river raft ride" movie ever to be seen. Despite all that’s going for this movie, the climax occurs somewhere around the seventh minute. Which doesn’t mean at all that the hell we see in the second half isn’t darn powerful. It is and all the more so because it is so chillingly believable.

Five stars again. But an absolutely (and I mean ABSOLUTELY) different five than I awarded to Raiders or The Last Crusade. I’m not really surprised that Spielberg doesn’t like The Temple as much as the others in the series. That may be another reason why part two doesn’t have the magic of part one or part three. But the main problem is in the screenplay. There’s so much action that there is no room for tension build-up. Although the movie itself is a level below The Crusade or Raiders, but these two deserve more like a full six stars. But it lacks proper villains, Capshaw lags behind Ford, the artefact isn’t really all that interesting and mainly we get too much of a big action ride without some of the props we are used to seeing Jones with. On the other hand, it’s funny (again), awesomely filmed (again), incredibly relaxing and mainly there’s Ford. He would give a great performance as Indy even in a seven-hour shot of him drinking hooch out of a paper bag with the bums down at Central Station. So he’s wonderful in a movie where he is well-fed at a very special dinner and where he careers off down a mine in a little wagon in one of the now most famous scenes of the silver screen, rounding it all off with a stroll across a rope bridge. And I absolutely adore the nods back to his previous adventures (Honduras, Madagascar etc.). And also of course the unavoidable fact that the final passage from Indy going over to the dark side is simply perfect entertainment. As a kid (and the movie is approached to a significant extent from Short Round’s perspective and not from an “adult perspective like the others in the series) I used to play the closing forty minutes like taking a rollercoaster ride. And um... I still do, from time to time.

I’m All Good is all good with me too, despite the fact that the first half is a dragged-out nothing. The whole movie like that would have been unbearable, but luckily in the second half it flops over into a cute little Czech farce about an ingenious plan which, with its grubby tracksuits with a couple of thousand crowns in pocket at a dusty fair in Prague, stands up nicely even in the shadow of the neon lights and sharp suits of Ocean’s Eleven. We don’t have to enter into a long discussion about whether Polívka as Mrklas (read Mr. Class) boils a much tastier broth than the rest of the ensemble. That’s just the way it is. Too bad that they don’t go overboard on the humor front, it would have helped in places. The couple of flashes of comedy are about the best things in this movie. In school the word good was a synonym for average and, all told, I’m All Good is more than equal to its title.

Scott achieved a mean feat in his feature movie debut about the lifelong rivalry of two Hussars. He managed to film a very good (almost) TV production that leaves an aftertaste of wasted opportunity. The Duellists has its moments. Some strong, some weak too. The strong ones happen at any time the extremely well cast central duo stand against each other and begin to duel. At those moments you could cut the atmosphere with a sabre. The downsides include a complete lack of pace and the overall weird tiredness of the story. It’s a sort of beta version of the French classics, but without the drama. They could have concentrated on that a little more here, but maybe this is because I sort of expected that over the years D’Hubert and Feraud unwittingly swap motivations. Scott is held very firmly on the ground with the budget and doesn’t show what he has inside him in terms of visuals until the penultimate shot. You can tell it’s him at that moment.