novoten

Season 1 – 75% – As much as I was looking forward to this series, I ended up struggling with it to the same extent. Not that I didn't enjoy it, I've seen high school environments in a hundred different ways. But maybe because I've seen a lot in the teen genre, I was surprised by how rarely it delved intensely and precisely into the topics in the first half. Combined with Clay's incredible restraint or almost retardation, constantly falling or breaking something, I sometimes hid my head in my hands out of anger or embarrassment. But the second half is more dramatic and in many ways uncompromising, and even a week after watching the last episode, I can't get some scenes out of my head. That applies to both the finale and the penultimate episodes, where one feels really uncomfortable, but even more so to a specific one that has the greatest chance of showing the power of the whole story. Just the thought of what could have been, the vision of a happy ending for the main couple that will never come true. Something broke inside me and I realized that even though I have a huge problem with 13 Reasons Why, Hannah and Clay will never disappear from my mind. Unfortunately, the problem is the concept of the tapes, the carefully crafted narrative, and the subtle accusation of everyone present with one logically explained exception. Some assholes definitely deserve the feeling of lifelong guilt, but it's difficult for me to come to terms with the fact that some of the participants acted more or less like ordinary, self-absorbed teenagers. They will have to overcome the accusation on the tapes that if they had made a different decision just once, everything could have been fine. Maybe it could have, but no one, not even the main character, deserves to pass such judgments on them. Even those seemingly insignificant situations are acted out perfectly (and no, no situation is insignificant when one unpleasant cut after another keeps coming at you so painfully that you unconsciously perceive every stolen glance from a classmate as a personal attack), and Katherine Langford deserves all awards imaginable for how she can bring the smallest hint of emotion to perfection. But when Hannah walks away from school at the end, and the tape plays the reproach that no one wants to stop her, I shudder to think what a scene like that might do to male and female viewers who are at a critical age and in some very unfortunate episode in their lives. Technically, there's little to fault this collection, but value-wise, I'm still shaking my head over it to this day. Season 2 – 90% – The People v. Bryce Walker. Sometimes I feel like a certain group of viewers don't even deserve contemporary quality work. And after reading another volley of statements along the lines of "Hannah didn't do anything wrong" or "Bryce is a likable guy who should be forgiven", I think even more so. I don't even agree that 13 Reasons Why is just a superficial fail for over-sensitive whiners. No, whatever the show's qualities, it always presents ideas in its second season that are primarily human, emotional, and even understandable to any empathetic individual. Moreover, Dylan Minnette, Langford, and especially Alisha Boe have matured so much as actors that identification with the characters is much deeper this time around. The major leap up for me, however, is the plot, which I was dreading after the announcement of the new story, but which thankfully doesn't repeat the controversial claim that Hannah had no other choice, and instead takes a more logically thorough look at the questions of how to move on and how to even manage to progress to where we are at least a little bit better off. Indeed, the problems, not just of teenage society, that the team around Brian Yorkey point out are so numerous that there isn't an episode that doesn't grab you by the heart, freeze you up, or just point a sufficiently cautionary (but thankfully not wildly moralistic) finger at the problem. Not every such thing is then enjoyable to watch, see the feminist group of students who mean well at the core of their actions, but the consequences of their behavior are almost catastrophic. But isn't every teenage endeavor just like that? Determined, often black and white, and burning every conceivable bridge for even a single value? Even more controversial, then, are the events surrounding Bryce himself. Throughout the first two seasons, there wasn't a viewer who hated the slimy snake Walker more than I did – and yet I'm also the one who champions his character in a cathartic third year. Perhaps because I'm (hopefully) no longer a mental teen and can leave some dry thread on the perpetrator of various evils. Because no one is saying (and through the mouth of the mature Justin Prentice, not even Bryce himself) that he didn't do the heinous things the show talks about, even as he finally accepts responsibility for them and wants to make amends. And here is the biggest crossroads at which everyone in 13 Reasons Why rightfully stops. The place where Bryce wants to come clean and make amends, and quite objectively succeeds on a few of them, and quite plausibly fails on others, because when something unfair matures in a person long enough, you can never quite get rid of it. But the effort is there, and it's not just about promises, it's also about actions, and while some of the characters accept such a change (at least temporarily), others quite logically don't believe it, and I'm sorry how a large percentage of the audience refuses to listen to such a (nowadays quite fundamental) dilemma at least for a while. For me, it's this incrementally debated issue that is perhaps the biggest nut the series has given me to crack so far, and I've fully bought it from the creators, not least because of the perfectly delivered lines (Devin Druid as Tyler is breathtaking and I want to believe that he can break out of the current box) or, given the genre, the adequately attractive couples, who I can't help but root for (I haven't adored anyone as much as Justin and Jessica in a long time). But to not just praise and illuminate the relatively moderate ratings, I have to mention the newcomers I didn't find to my liking. The ubiquitous genius Ani is simply insufferable as an instant best friend and part of the gang, and as much as the episode that focuses on the Bryce-Ani-Clay triangle is quite possibly one of the highlights of the series, I find the sheer targeting of both characters to be a mistake. I simply can't believe how easily she's integrated into the whole plot, and how strong the feelings both of the aforementioned suddenly began to feel for her, which may be a minor scripting rush of events around her, or then the impression that Grace Saif plays all of Ani's positions exactly the same. The questions over the final season are pretty big either way. Because unlike the previous series, there's no outright cliffhanger or trauma, and the journey remains almost completely clean. Season 4 – 55% – A sharp landing. It's as if the last season was written by a different crew, as if someone had fundamentally changed the main characters and made the conscious ones smug (Jessica), the appealing ones empty boxes (Zach), and even the narrator Clay a disturbed individual who is forgiven every time, even though his behavior operates on a system of random outbursts and he comments on the whole event with tone-deaf monologues on "Fuck Love" or "You can't survive high school". I regret this all the more because I've always championed the series, whether it was investigating or instructing, and I continue to find it a thrilling warning for all fragile souls. That's why I don't understand that at the very end it encourages crazy and reckless acts without discouraging them. What all the main characters get away with, what crazy missteps without a shred of thought or logic, is what the mind is left wondering. Most of the time, such moves lead them to a thrilling cliffhanger, but the subsequent episode doesn't refer to it and just deflects it in two sentences. Then, when the entire series functions as a string of specials (the gala, the trip, the riot, the prom, the graduation), in competition with the three previous seasons, each inextricably linked by a central theme (the tapes, the trial, the murder), it's nothing short of sad. I wasn't expecting such a messy send-off, and I'm only relatively resigned to it because of the last episode. It's the only one that speaks to me in the same language as the old days. And I try not to think too much about the fact that, with a few cosmetic tweaks, it could have stuck around for a third season without watching the creative travails of the nine episodes before it.

A properly physical experience with all of Guy Ritchie's trademarks. Wild conversations at an uncatchable cadence, London ever-present, even our buddy David Beckham doesn't go missing. However, until the very end, I couldn't decide whether such likable wildernesses are somewhat harmed by the fact that they are crammed into a classic story that occasionally meets traditional elements very carelessly, occasionally boldly and imaginatively, but sometimes just inevitably classically. This is most prominently evident in the direct comparison between Arthur, who runs his mouth in Charlie Hunnam's confident performance, never far from a wisecrack and grumbling about his fate rather frequently, and Vortigern, an archetypal fantasy villain with a desire for power. However, I am very happy with King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, because it handles my favorite material in its own way and with knightly honor reaches an ending from which an excellent saga could continue in some alternative universe. We are left with at least an honest and courageous flash.

As expected, escalated with drama and focus, with a lifespan of a personal experience on the edge of perfection and with a cutting musical accompaniment that is physically exhausting. Christopher Nolan has been in top form for more than a decade, a form that everyone else can only envy, and perhaps solely due to the tightness of the war genre, which does not allow any deviations in the script, Dunkirk will be one step behind his previous masterpieces in my eyes.

It warms the heart when one sees how Luc Besson's Valerian is for him the true First Element. I may not know the comic book, but the respect for the material and the almost childlike nurturing of everything related to its world brought a smile to my face more than once. Unfortunately, what is being nurtured is not something that can be called old-fashioned, but just outdated. Considering the year of the source material, it's unfair to criticize that we have already seen something similar countless times, but unfortunately, there are no plot twists happening in Alpha. I am also really sorry about that, because the rumors about this having the best visuals of the last decade were not wrong. Every flight, jump, or water trip takes your breath away with every pixel and erases yet another imaginary boundary of digital effects. The fact that this happens in several casually patched episodes that awkwardly drag along the central mundane plot is unfortunately just one big sigh. At the expense of the visual aspect, character development suffers as well, because the central Valerian's apparent task is only to deliver annoying lines and occasional action escapades. Dane DeHaan's unique face even tantalizes antiheroes, but cruelly fails in this case. Cara Delevingne effortlessly rises to the top, and it is perhaps thanks to her natural Laureline that she has moved on to starring roles written for her.

As a gift to fans two decades after the film, it may be a bit ungrateful, but for me, as a viewer who pieced together the lost pieces shortly after both series of the classic Twin Peaks and just a few dozen hours after Fire Walk with Me, it is a pleasant farewell to the original form of the series and a final breath before its return, no matter what it brings me. The few scenes that expand upon the ending of the second season will be the most pleasing, and everything related to Laura, whose fate once again brought a few tears to my eyes. I AM the Muffin!

David Lynch and his beloved town in exactly the form that I love the most. He returns to the roots, telling us what was before the beginning, yet he doses me with doses of Agent Cooper and the only thing that holds him back from the highest rating is an excessive amount of scenes with the Dwarf and his gang. I inevitably remain mesmerized by the Dwarf, but I still have not reached a satisfying point. First and foremost, however, is the challenge of the tragic story of that most famous local anti-heroine, whose fate I finally get to know from the first person perspective and I can mourn her thwarted life even more, as it is not just collective sadness.

I used to believe in Fede Alvarez a lot, then after Evil Dead sent him packing – and now I am cautiously taking him back. Because in Don't Breathe there is none of the expected gore or cheapness, except for that specific basement episode, but in terms of genre, surprisingly ambitious composition lies in this eerie building. This game with audience expectations, where my relationship to the characters repeatedly and significantly changes, has no equal. Combined with the natural progression of scares and an unbearably intense scene in absolute darkness, I willingly overlook a few moments where a viewer with a taste for finding plotholes could show a bit of mercy.

The bear may not have Masha, but on the other hand, he has the biggest bazooka in all of Russia and plenty of space in the elevator up, up, and only up. He seems so likable to me that he can reliably push most negative impressions far beyond the entertainment high points he reaches. I almost feel sorry that Guardians is becoming the most bizarre spectacle far and wide because, aside from the incredibly murderous attempts at catchphrases, I truly didn't see any awful or never before seen viewer nightmare. Although the features of Eastern culture are an occasional joke in themselves, fortunately this was a completely painless and mild case all things considered.

A more personal and therefore bolder version of what was seen in the Japanese vision. I don't need a secretive philosophy at all costs, although it hypnotized me many times in the animated Ghost in the Shell. It fascinates me with its inaccessibility, but precisely because it never lets me completely in, it still forces me to be too polite and reserved towards it. On the other hand, Mira gradually allows me to reach through all of its layers, and I am happy to meet her halfway. Action symphony and fatal conceptual crossroads have finally found each other at their very best.

If I look at it with sober eyes, the romantic central plotline is kick-started far too quickly, but in the face of its authenticity, I willingly squint my eyes. The bond between Maddy and Olly contains exactly that head-over-heels infatuation where you don't need to know anything essential about the other person, yet you are unshakably certain that this love is the one. It's everything. Combined with the nostalgic mood and ingeniously filmed virtual dialogues, it simply provides no defense for sentimental individuals.