Marigold

A deeply human film about the butchering of old prostitutes as an expression of the anxiety of loneliness and the meaninglessness of life. It’s a film full of Wunderbaum trees, because the screen and your clothes stink after you see it. A borderline but uplifting experience from a director who once again pays homage to the total scum of the earth.

An inaccessible, enigmatic LGBT romance about impending death and the mysterious stories that emerge from memory and silence. It’s beautifully shot, unusually straddling the line between distance and empathy for the characters. It is a level below which you can dive, or you can bang your head on it.

The Other Fail. A visually first-class menstrual horror / outdated, convulsive feminist fable about liberating oneself from male oppression and finding a female wolf. Szumowská and Englert are a well-matched pair - I would hang that poster somewhere - but I wouldn't frame the terrible screenwriting and bad acting. The occasional glance at the radicalism of the Antichrist and the detachment of the first series of Top of the Lake only highlights how shallowly and harmlessly this lamb roars.

A warm pleaser about growing up in a divided family with a father who has a good heart, but who is also an incorrigible punk on the inside. Told with ease, which sometimes turns to superficiality, and basically uncomplicatedly nice, as is customary at a festival... but it is also easily forgotten, like some second-rate punk rock hit.

A beautifully filmed show of tasteful gibberish and persistent utterance of everything. In addition, culminating in a B-movie, which fully reveals how, despite the burden of beauty, Ad Astra is actually an internally simple movie that ostentatiously wears the robe of spiritual science fiction. I would have made it all about the monkeys. Space Baboons.

It's so long. It’s like inhaling the smoke from a filter-less cigarette and enjoying its equally long exhalation. It won't make you cough, and it won't scratch your throat. Which is actually the only problem I have with this "California dream". Connoisseurs of Tarantino's work will soon suspect that history will change again, and this time it is far less subversive fun than Inglorious Bastards. The three-pointed storytelling (actor-stuntman-Sharon Tate) does not have the exact structure of The Hateful Eight, but is rather an episodic collection of stories from filming and enchanted memories of faded neon. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood is not the best that Tarantino has to offer, which does not mean that after the end of the I won’t be madly in love with the corked smile of Cliff Booth and dividing the 162 minutes by three, because that’ show fast the film went by. You won't resist the urge to see it again, even if you already know what’s going to happen...

Someone is being looked for at first, then someone is found, and then only the details are lightly filled-in. Sorrentino has a lot on his mind and in fact it is quite clear that he is a debuting screenwriter. But there are a lot of scenes here whose emotional equilibristics and the connection of music / image are intoxicating. Servillo and Renzi are great opposites - a hedonistic loser vs. a melancholic dreamer. The energy of the two characters is gradually born in the film, to finally mature in a duet of futility and resilience of existence. It hit me harder than I expected. Definitely more than the over-aestheticized reflections on similar topics that Paolo has been filming in recent years.

The ambition to combine an intimate drama about a cold family with social commentary was too wide a dispersion and little emphasis on detail. The absent sound design or very fluctuating acting speak for themselves. It is, nevertheless, an important film that ends decently, as it leaves catharsis more or less up to the viewer. It is a pity that Škop is becoming more of a dramatizing director than a one who observes through a documentary. Thanks to this, Eva Nová was further and higher.

A sympathetic, nicely designed sci-fi fairy tale with bloody roots, from which, however, narration chaos is literally apparent. Lots of things are somehow provisionally sketched out and do not led anywhere, awkward zigzagging between a dystopian global story and a love story, the absence of a strong finale, which the film owes to a slightly overly optimistic intention to serialize it... The more promising ideas there are, the more of an unpleasant taste they leave.

This is a gritty, hyper-black, well-directed and unfortunately also a bit unfinished dramedy about the clash between an amoral opportunist and sick people. In a way, it follows in the tradition of Anders Thomas Jensen's borderline ethical works, but without trying to over-humanize. Sympathy, ironically.