POMO

When four scantily clad bisexual Spanish women come to the Canary Islands for a vacation to party and pick up men in Jesus Franco’s Mansion of the Living Dead, you know you're in the right place, at least for killing time on a flight. As is almost always the case with Franco, however, the initial enthusiasm fades as soon as the first of the girls sets out on a walk by herself and just looks around for ten minutes. The second girl goes for a walk too, thankfully a shorter one, and she also comes across the master’s answer to Ossorio’s Templar reapers, whose leader greets her with a gentlemanly “Kneel before me, you slut!”. And then none of it matters to you anymore.

It would be naïve to want something from a remake of Child’s Play today. The 1980s, which sustained a similar theme, are long gone. However, the fact that this didn’t turn out to be an outright disaster deserves praise. The upgrade of the theme with the doll’s connection via a mobile telephone and the misuse of artificial intelligence hits the mark in our current era and despite the fact that Chucky’s sorcery goes beyond all limits of technological logic in later scenes, it works effectively. It’s not possible to see this as a horror movie (unless you’re eight), which the film itself is aware of, and even its cruelest scene is lightened up with ironic humor. The visage of Chucky with glowing red eyes (when he’s being evil) is cool, and his gradual descent into violence is depicted well. These are the movie’s best passages. Conversely, the “spectacular” climax, which is supposed to give the original, more intimate plot development a good kick, hinders the movie with hackneyed and not very imaginative moments. The screenwriter should have given it more time to crystalize in his mind.

As a tough local sheriff, William Forsythe is a capable counterbalance to the boorishness of a group of sadists, who finally (thank God) get punched in the mouth. Together with its predecessor, this sequel thus forms a decent combo-variation on The Texas Chainsaw Massacre that brings black humor and slightly perverse fun into the grateful redneck-slasher sub-genre. Minor roles for iconic faces of the genre confirm Zombie’s passion for his work.

Fractured is a decently constructed thriller in which you are never 100% sure what is true until the last moment. If anything hobbles the film, it’s the depiction of the protagonist’s doubts, as he almost abandons his convictions at times. Brad Anderson is not such a master as Shyamalan once was a long time ago. But he still does a respectable job with the challenging subject matter, which is built on details and extraordinary precision in the appearance of the individual scenes. Worthington is good, or at least good enough.

This is a film in which the early killing of the “main character” superbly sets everything in motion. What Happened to Monday is an excellent sci-fi flick with a concept that serves as the foundation for a dramatic arc of emotions, surprises and constant suspense, not to mention spectacular action, in a dystopian world with a totalitarian system verging on a fascist monstrosity. Powerful villains led by the frightfully cold Glenn Close, her “perfect SS general” and the forceful countenances of the commandos. The stalemate of the main protagonists, played superbly by Noomi Rapace. Gore and sex. Tommy Wirkola has left all of his genre contemporaries in the dust! P.S. I’m not giving this a fifth star only because of the slightly implausible and needlessly overwrought ending.

If you leave aside the fact that Affleck’s image is rather more reminiscent of a contemporary Miami Beach teenage exhibitionist than of a historical figure, and if you’re not bothered that the main female character, alongside all of those close-minded dimwits, has higher emotional intelligence than most contemporary spiritual college girls, what you will get out of The Last Duel is an engrossing reflection on the issues of contemporary society, bizarrely set in a historical chamber drama that will make your heart pound in its climax. Because it involves far more than just pride and the settling of scores between two knights.

Cage could talk faster and the film wouldn't have to be as slow as his speech, but it’s true that with a faster pace, he would miss the action, which he conversely (intentionally) avoids. Pig is fine as a filmmaker’s, or rather screenwriter’s character-study exercise.

The veiled answer to the question of who set Democratic California on fire under Trump? A classic thriller theme of good guys on the run from hired killers, promisingly set in a forest imperiled by a wildfire. The bad guys are solid and well cast, but Angelina doesn’t fit here at all. A chick like that wouldn’t do this work, especially not in America. And the whole movie gradually slides into such naïveté, as well as silly clichés and pathos. And that’s a shame.

This is no minimalist, award-winning art-house of the kind that win awards with a similar setting and themes (e.g. Manchester by the Sea), but it is a powerful and, thanks to that, touching crowd-pleaser. Sandra again goes full throttle. Who would have said that about her in 1994...

A modest life lived with love in turbulent times, family values and the difficult decision to make a major change. A feel-good view of old Belfast, from a three-generation family whose actors are a joy to spend time with, even if their story is only moderately interesting, even through the eyes of a young boy. Belfast is not a Shakespearean drama as you would expect from Kenneth Branagh, but merely a small autobiographical story from his childhood and a declaration of love for the films that he grew up on. Absolutely delicious black-and-white cinematography.