Lima

A pretty pleasant surprise. What strikes you at first is the naivety with which the director develops his story, in an emotional level of Asian mentality that I will never fully understand. From the episode "Sonata" onwards, however, Kim Ki-Duk comes up with a poetic narrative that culminates in the best possible ending. After The Isle I wasn’t expecting something this interesting.

"Dear?... Dear?... What is your first name?" A romance as it should be, created in difficult locations and in the alcoholic haze of the perpetually drunk Bogart and Huston. The chemistry between Hepburn and Bogart is incredible, their witty verbal banter, full of charming one-liners, is brilliantly written, and the film's worldwide success is more than deserved. A must-see film classic.

There is something wrong with a two-hour film where the first two minutes are the best. Humour is expressed through the overuse of the word "dick" or stupid dialogues that repeat the punchline just to be sure, and there are many situations that border the embarrassing. I understand the idea Budař and Morávek wanted to convey, but why they do it in such a tired, unfunny and, given the disproportionate runtime, tedious way is a mystery to me. Morávek is no directorial luminary, his sources of inspiration are, in his words, the "Czech New Wave of the 1960s", but his work is far from it. The first half hour, the masturbation in the grandfather's uniform, Zagorová and the very end lift the film at least a little from the deep mire of mediocrity.

While the animation is breathtaking and the concept of human body parts is extremely inventive, it is otherwise a rather dull and insubstantial look into the life of noted Canadian animator Ryan Larkin.

A funny reflection on life when pushing forty, stupid dogs and Bob’s genitals.

A gorgeously animated, very grotesque story about the difficulties of adopting an alien with the appearance of a little boy. Unceasing volleys of laughter in the cinema from beginning to end. The best piece in the Ryan animation section at this year's SFS.

Rather than the formal aspect, I would attribute the main prize at the Berlinale to the subject matter, which is so strong that a lesser rating than 4* is out of the question. It's definitely better not to know anything about the plot beforehand, so that the impact of the final chilling twist, the explanation of why the protagonist behaved the way she did all along, is as great as possible. Esma's (the flawless Mirjana Karanovic) impressive and divinely rendered confession at the end of the film is bound to move anyone with a modicum of perception.

A boring, tedious sequence of unfunny dialogue and amateurish performances. One sometimes wonders what the Fund for the Development and Support of Czech Cinema puts money into...

You don't have to flip through the books of Josef Augusta and Zdeněk Burian to visit prehistory. Just take a raft and paddle down Ethiopia's largest river, the Omo, to the ends where tourists rarely set their feet. An unimpressive but still interesting documentary in which the most striking thing is the aggressiveness of the thieving Morsi tribe, in whose territory you have to pay to breathe their air, and the chills from their practice of "beautifying" their women in a way in which they cut their lower lip and insert larger and larger plates into it over time. You will also see that it’s possible to survive being bitten by the Gabuna viper, whose venom can easily kill several dozen people, and you will discover with a bitter feeling that the only thing that our "advanced" civilization can unfortunately provide to primitive tribes deep in the African jungles are lethal Kalashnikovs in the hands of bushmen.

I like Vladimír Merta very much, both as an artist and as a person. But even he, in one of the lead roles, couldn’t save this film from feeling like a completely missed opportunity and a disappointment. It's like an experimentally conceived piece in which interesting ideas are occasionally heard in a monotonous voice from the actors, but they are safely lost in the all-encompassing chaos of the filmmaking. I have no idea what kind of filmmaking stream Ivan Balaďa represents and after this film I don't want to know. Chekhov must have been spinning in his grave like the blades in a blender.