Lista - Januar 2026.

 

Ukupno pogledano: 39 (31 dugometražni, 8 kratkih)

Prvi puta pogledano: 36 (28 dugometražnih, 8 kratkih)

Najbolji utisak (prvi put pogledano): Marty Supreme

Najlošiji utisak: Don't Take It Personally

*ponovno gledanje

**kratkometražni

kritike objavljene na webu su aktivni linkovi

datum izvor English Title / Originalni naslov (Reditelj, godina) - ocena/10

01.01. video Chainsaws Were Singing / Mootorsaed laulsid (Sander Maran, 2024) - 7/10
02.01. video Nickel Boys (RaMell Ross, 2024) - 6/10
06.01. festival Sound of Falling / In die Sonne schauen (Mascha Schilinski, 2025) - 8/10
13.01. kino Father Mother Sister Brother (Jim Jarmusch, 2025) - 7/10
16.01. video Don't Trip (Alex Kugelman, 2025) - 4/10
17.01. video Adorable Humans / Yndige Mennesker (Anders Jon, Kasper Jul, Michael Kunov, Michael Panduro, 2025) - 7/10
21.01. festival Silent Flood / Tykha povin (Dmytro Sukholytkyy-Sobchuk, 2025) - 7/10
21.01. festival December /Grudzień (Grzegorz Paprzycki, 2025) - 8/10
21.01. festival 9-Month Contract (Ketevan Vashagahvili, 2025) - 6/10
22.01. festival The Kartli Kingdom / Qartlis tskhovreba (Tamar Kalandadze, Julien Pebrel, 2025) - 7/10
22.01. festival Electing Ms Santa (Raisa Razmeri, 2025) - 5/10
22.01. festival Outliving Shakespeare (Inna Sahakyan, Ruben Ghazaryan, 2025) - 6/10
22.01. kino 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple (Nia DaCosta, 2026) - 8/10
22.01. video The Rip (Joe Carnahan, 2026) - 7/10
23.01. festival We Live Here / Atameken (Zhanna Kurmasheva, 2025) - 5/10
23.01. festival Welded Together (Anastasiya Miroshnichenko, 2025) - 8/10
*23.01. festival Active Vocabulary (Yulia Loshkina, 2025) - 7/10
23.01. kino The Wedding / Svadba (Igor Šeregi, 2026) - 6/10
23.01. festival Renovation / Renovacija (Gabriele Urbonaite, 2025) - 6/10
**23.01. festival Index (Radu Muntean, 2025) - 6/10
**23.01. festival Desert, She / I erimos (Ioanna Digenaki, 2025) - 5/10
**23.01. festival Stiina (Elisabeth Kužovnik, 2025) - 7/10
**23.01. festival Unavailable / Nedostupni (Kyrylo Zemlyanyi, 2025) - 7/10
**23.01. festival The Dark Hill / Temno brdo (Vanja Miloš Jovanović, 2025) - 8/10
*24.01. festival Militantropos (Yelizaveta Smith, Alina Gorlova, Simon Mozgovyi, 2025) - 7/10
24.01. festival Laguna (Šarunas Bartas, 2025) - 7/10
24.01. festival White Lies (Alba Zari, 2025) - 6/10
26.01. festival To Hold a Mountain / Planina (Biljana Tutorov, Petar Glomazić, 2026) - 7/10
**28.01. video Kismet (Žiga Virc, 2025) - 6/10
**28.01. video Upon Sunrise / Kad svane (Stefan Ivančić, 2025) - 7/10
**28.01. video Ether (Vida Skerk, 2025) - 7/10
28.01. video The Second Diary of Paulina P. / Drugi dnevnik Pauline P. (Neven Hitrec, 2025) - 6/10
*28.01. video An American Werewolf in London (John Landis, 1981) - 7/10
29.01. video Dust Bunny (Bryan Fuller, 2025) - 6/10
29.01. video Don't Take It Personally (Jelena Jureša, 2025) - 4/10
29.01. video Dad's Lullaby / Tatova kolyskovka (Lesia Diak, 2025) - 7/10
30.01. video Song Sung Blue (Craig Brewer, 2025) - 6/10
31.01. kino Marty Supreme (Josh Safdie, 2025) - 9/10
31.01. kino Die My Love (Lynne Ramsay, 2025) - 5/10

The Rip

 kritika objavljena u dodatku Objektiv dnevnog lista Pobjeda

Možemo da se pravimo naivni, ali istina je da je novac vraški dobar motivator koji pokreće ljude na činjenje raznih stvari, ponekad čak i onih nezamislivo loših. To ne znači nužno da je uvek sve na prodaju, ali stavimo hipotetički veći „ulov“ novca, zlata ili dijamanata između prijatelja ili saradnika, pa gledajmo kako se kolju oko njega. Filmskih primera koji potvrđuju ovaj kliše je sijaset, neki su na njemu manje ili više lansirali svoje karijere (Deni Bojl, Kventin Tarantino, Gaj Riči), drugi nisu odustajali od njega ni u filmovima iz svoje kasnije faze, poput Džona Frankenhajmera u filmu Ronin.

Taj filmski kliše nastao je od literarnog čiji je najtipičniji primerak roman Ostrvo s blagom Roberta Luisa Stivensona. Stoga ne treba da čudi da novac uspostavlja jaz između ličnih interesa i motivacija kod uglavnom negativnih tipova kao što su to gusari, pljačkaši i drugi kriminalci, ili možda kod onih ambivalentnih kao što su to avanturisti ili obični ljudi kojima se ukazala neočekivana prilika. Fora s filmom The Rip Džoa Karnahana koji nam se ukazao na Netfliksu je što su sada u toj situaciji „iskopanog blaga“ oni koji su zaduženi da čuvaju čast, poštenje i duha zakona, što će reći – policajci.

Budimo iskreni, ni filmski policajci nisu moralno stameni besprekorni karakteri kao što su to bili u nekim starijim, naivnijim filmovima. Ne, oni mogu biti moralno ambivalentni kao obični ljudi ili čak skloni korupciji i stoga po psihološkom profilu slični svojim filmskim „protivnicima“, kriminalcima. A ako u obzir uzmemo i rivalstva između različitih policijskih službi i njihovih nadležnosti, onda likovi itekako imaju razloga za podozrivost jedni prema drugima, naročito kada se sve vrti oko velikog novca.

Ali, pre nego što dođemo do naših protagonista i situacije u kojoj su se našli, Karnahan postavlja celu stvar akcionom scenom. Policajku koja istražuje poprilično bitan trag napadaju dvojica maskiranih napadača. Pre nego što je ubiju, ona ipak uspeva da pošalje poruku mobilnim telefonom. Ispostavlja se da je pokojna policajka kapetanica Džeki (Lina Esko), zapovednica specijalne jedinice zloslutnog imena TNT, a ta skraćenica stoji za taktički tim odeljenja za narkotike u Majamiju.

Kao što to obično biva kada na zadatku nastrada viši policijski oficir, pokreće se istraga, a pod sumnjom su i pripadnici njenog odeljenja. Njen zamenik poručnik Dejn Dumars (Met Dejmon) nije izvan sumnje na neku vrstu korupcije, a u istoj situaciji se nalazi i njegov najbolji prijatelj i najverniji kolega narednik Džej Di Bern (Ben Aflek) kojem ne pomaže ni to što je jedan od agenata FBI koji ih ispituju njegov rođeni brat Del (Skot Edkins). Ipak, ne postoje dovoljno jake indicije da su oni ili neko iz odeljenja umešani u ubistvo, ali to ih ne oslobađa pritiska, posebno zbog toga je što je javna tajna da neki pojedinci ili čak cela odeljenja sarađuju s narko-mafijom.

Kada Dejn prijavi dojavu da se u jednoj kući nalazi prilična količina novca, on okuplja tim koji sačinjavaju Džej Di, kao i detektivi Ro (Stiven Jeun), Numa (Tejana Tejlor) i Lolo (Katalina Sandino Moreno) da je ispita. Službeni pas koji njuši novac (priznajem, odličan štos, bilo da je tako nešto stvarno moguće ili ne) kod kuće „poludi“ mnogo više nego što se to očekuje za prijavljenu sumu, pa su oni još više nego uobičajeno rešeni da u kuću u kojoj živi misteriozna Dezi (Saša Kali) upadnu na ovaj ili na onaj način.

Stvari postaju još kompleksnije kada otkriju da je u zidu na tavanu skriveno daleko više od nekoliko desetina ili stotina hiljada dolara koliko je, navodno, glasila dojava. Umesto toga, tamo je nekih dvadeset miliona, a stvari postaju još čudnije kada Dejn reši da tim svoje otkriće ne prijavi nikome odmah. Umesto toga, on timu oduzima sredstva komunikacije i deli im zadatke. Kada zazvoni kućni telefon, a glas s druge strane ih upozori da uzmu „proviziju“ i odu, jer će u suprotnom poginuti, postaje jasno da postoji sprega između mafije i nekog u policiji. Pitanje je samo – koga...

Tokom tri četvrtine trajana, za Netfliksove standarde inače sasvim pristojnih dva sata, The Rip funkcioniše kao savršeno podmazan triler. Osnovni razlog za to je što reditelj osnovno „pogonsko gorivo“ sumnje savršeno raspoređuje među likovima, a oni, pak, za sebe ili podeljeni u manje grupe kreiraju različite teorije jedni protiv drugih. To stvara jedno zatvoreno okruženje, dodatno podvučeno fotografijom Huana Migela Aspiroza i montažom Kevina Hejla koje zaokružuju internu topografiju mesta radnje, u kojem sukob može da eskalira brzo.

Druga bitna stavka je i ekonomika scenarija kojoj u prilog ide i glumačka podela: Met Dejmon i Ben Aflek su već decenijama uhodani glumački, scenaristički, autorski i producentski duo, pa bez problema možemo da ih prihvatimo kao kolege koje su nekada na istoj strani, a nekada i preispituju ili čak rade jedan protiv drugog. Ostali likovi tako ostaju u drugom planu iz kojeg se izvlače u prvi kada je to oportuno, odnosno kada sumnja padne na njih ili kada oni na nekog sumnjaju.

Misterija se, međutim, do navedene tačke u potpunosti odmota, pa Karnahan za kulminaciju bira prolongiranu akcionu sekvencu obračuna s utvrđenim krivcem, odnosno krivcima. To svakako predstavlja određenu promenu u dotadašnjem tonu filma, a možda i lagani pad po pitanju kvaliteta materijala i rada, ali takvo rešenje ne treba da nas začudi ako znamo od koga dolazi. Karnahan je svoju autorsku karijeru započeo kao autor klasičnih, ne naročito inventivnih akcionih filmova sa šmekom nešto starije B produkcije i tom stilu se vraća i u svojim ozbiljnije budžetiranim kasnijim filmovima.

Na kraju krajeva, film mora nekako da se završi, pa zašto se ne bi završio tipičnim obračunom? U svakom slučaju, ovde se ne radi o uratku koji će ući u antologije i ostati u analima, već o nečemu za prolaznu konzumaciju i zabavu nalik na filmove koji su se nekada pozajmljivali u video-klubovima. Vremena su se promenila, pa sada umesto klubova imamo Netfliks kojem je ovo prvi potencijalni hit nešto višeg profila s nekoliko poznatih glumaca u kadru i na producentskim pozicijama s etiketom 2026. godine. U tom smislu, nadajmo se da se po tom „jutru dan poznaje“ i da ćemo u novoj godini redovno dobijati ovako solidne filmove.

28 Years Later: The Bone Temple

 kritika objavljena u dodatku Objektiv dnevnog lista Pobjeda

Možda je najveći uspeh scenariste Aleksa Garlanda u filmu 28 Years Later taj da je reditelju Deniju Bojlu onemogućio da kroz njega protrči time što je izabrao umereniji tempo i precizno tempirao akcione scene. Ulogu u tome igrala je i činjenica da je nastavak već bio napisan, odobren i blizu procesa snimanja pod dirigentskom palicom Nije Da Koste. Nastavak s podnaslovom The Bone Temple ukazao nam se u ne baš zahvalnom i atraktivnom januarskom terminu, što se moglo protumačiti i kao znak za uzbunu ili makar određeno podozrenje.

Podsetimo, klinac Džimi (Roko Hejns) iz uvoda u prethodni film pojavio se kao odrasli vođa bande (Džek O‘Konel) na kraju istog da bi makar privremeno spasio mladog protagonistu Spajka (Alfi Vilijams) od jurišajućih zombija. Ubrzo se ispostavlja da Džimijeva banda nije samo skupina lutajućih preživelih, očvrslih i istreniranih za tamanjenje zombija, već da se tu radi o kultu ličnosti i satanističkom kultu.

Ovo prvo je bilo jasno već po izgledu: Džimijevi pratioci se oblače kao on (u slične trenerke) i nose neke grozne plave perike da bi izgledali kao on, a dodatno je pojačano i time da su svi usvojili njegovo ime kao svoje. Druga, satanistička, dimenzija konstruisana je oko Džimijeve poslednje uspomene iz detinjstva koja je u njegovoj glavi izokrenuta: njegov otac, „Stari Nik“, poveo je horde zla kako bi uspostavio pakao na zemlji, a njegovo poslanstvo je da mu služi tako što će mu slati nove duše kojima će prethodno učiniti „milosrđe i dobročinstvo“ kroz grozno mučenje. U tome mu pomažu njegovi „apostoli“, zvani Prsti kojih mora biti tačno sedam kako bi mu držali krunu. Ser Lord Džimi Kristal (vidljivo modeliran prema palom britanskom „selebritiju“ Džimiju Savilu koji je nakon smrti obeležen kao zlostavljač i pedofil) svoju „religiju“ improvizuje usput, koristeći se „ikonografijom“ Teletabisa kao delom rituala i frazom „šta kažete na to“ umesto „amin“.

Za Spajka to znači da je njegovo „preživljavanje“ iz prvog dela samo privremeno, jer za opstanak mora da se izbori (noževima, na smrt) s jednim od Prstiju. Iako će i taj duel preživeti više slučajno nego zahvaljujući svojim sposobnostima i beskrupuloznosti, i dalje je daleko od opasnosti. Možda ima sreće utoliko što jedna od članica bande, Džimi Ink (Erin Kelimen), ima milosti za njega utoliko što će ga, koliko god je u mogućnosti, „pokriti“ i zaštititi od ostalih.

U međuvremenu, u naslovnom hramu od kostiju, doktor Ian Kelson (Ralf Fajns) meditira o životu, smrti i miru dok sluša Duran Duran na starim pločama preko gramofona na navijanje i pokušava da dublje prodre u suštinu bolesti, u čemu mu „pomaže“ divovski alfa-zombi kojem je dao ime Samson (Ki Luis-Peri), i kojeg je prethodno „navukao“ na morfin. Kelson je mišljenja, i to ne sasvim bezveze, da bolest ima nekoliko komponenti, među kojima je i psihička, odnosno da je „uspavanu“ ljudskost možda moguće „probuditi“ i u zombijima.

Već od naslova možemo pretpostaviti da će se Kelson i Spajk, odnosno njihove priče, ponovo sresti. To će se dogoditi kada Ink na izviđačkoj misiji ugleda strukturu i Kelsona s kožom narandžastom od joda, pa za njega pretpostavi da je „Stari Nik“ o kojem Džimi toliko priča. Susret dvojice muškaraca s različitim koncepcijama života i smrti (ateizam nasuprot satanizmu) preko nadmudrivanja vodi do neminovnog sukoba.

U 28 Years Later mogli smo da učitamo ekonomsku krizu, porast autoritarizma, Bregzit i koronu, a to su za nas radili i Garland i Bojl kroz arhivske snimke i „rovovsku poeziju“ iz Prvog svetskog rata. U The Bone Temple, na kraju imamo i kameo Kilijana Marfija čiji lik u svojstvu oca i učitelja istorije svojoj kćeri govori o geopolitičkoj situaciji u Evropi pred Drugi svetski rat. Ni jedan ni drugi film, međutim, nisu samo metafore nekih prošlih i budućih vremena, već su više od toga meditacije o ljudskosti, ljudskoj vrsti i njenim naporima da uspostavi kakav-takav poredak, čak i kad onaj prethodni polako bledi iz sećanja. Tu bi za oba filma logična referenca bila serija Mad Max, iako ovaj Garlandov i Bojlov „restart“ nije ni izbliza toliko detaljan i raskošan kao Milerov.

U tom smislu, značajan Garlandov doprinos je stvaranje zaokruženog „alternativnog sveta“ u kojem je preskočena eksplozija interneta kao platforme kojom se neograničeno mogu širiti laži i gluposti, ali u kojem su masovne histerije i psihoze (različitih tipova) i dalje ne samo moguće, već i učestale. U svojim scenarističkim namerama Garland nije nimalo suptilan, ali to u ovom i ovakvom filmu ne predstavlja problem, naprotiv.

Istina je da će se problemi pojaviti drugde, makar u svetlu toga da je The Bone Temple vrlo očit nastavak, pa čak i „most“ u novog trilogiji. (Nakon test-projekcije filma fokus-publici influensera, nastavak je odobren, Garland ga piše, a možda će se Bojl vratiti u režisersku stolicu.) Ima, dakle, tu ponešto razvlačenja minutaže i gubitka momentuma dok se prolazi kroz očekivane „kapije“ na ovako zacrtanoj slalomskoj pruzi.

Drugi potencijalni nedostatak je taj što Nia Da Kosta svakako nije toliko etablirana autorica kao što je to Deni Bojl, pa u „njegovom svetu“ pokušava da pronađe svoj glas i stil, što joj ne polazi za rukom baš uvek. Ima tu i imitacija putem drmusave kamere, ali i pokušaja uspostavljanja nečeg sasvim svog, što joj najbolje uspeva u muzičkom ulošku kulminacije (uz pesmu The Number of The Beast sastava Iron Maiden) gde Fajns ima svoj pirotehničko-plesni šou od kojeg bi mogao da se sastavi kompletan spot. Promena glavnine tehničke ekipe na pozicijama direktora fotografije, montažera i kompozitora svakako omogućava Da Kosti da potraži svoja rešenja i svoj izraz.

Opet, 28 Years Later je tako intoniran da od The Bone Temple očekujemo neka velika otkrića koja ovde izostaju ili se za naš ukus čine suviše banalnima, što je možda poenta sama za sebe: nema neke velike mudrosti, ljudi preživljavaju kako znaju i umeju i u tom preživljavanju pokekad pokušavaju da pronađu smisao, a ponekad i da mu ga sami daju. Neki će reći da je to šteta makar zato što od glume Ralfa Fajnsa ne dobijamo onoliko grandioznosti koliko smo očekivali, ali on je ovde zapravo tačno onoliko dobar i veličanstven koliko treba da bude. Na kraju, ovakav nastavak jako podiže očekivanja pred finale.

A Film a Week - China See / Kinu jura

 previously published on Asian Movie Pulse

While team sports, and especially fandom around them, tend to be influenced by their “native” culture and to project it further, the individual ones are usually simpler to decode because they exist everywhere in the same shape. Among them, martial arts tend to transcend the cultures most often and most fluidly, serve as a bridge between them and an accelerator of societal pluralism. Remember the karate craze in the West decades ago and closely observe the ongoing hype around kickboxing in Japan, for instance.

At first glance, the cultures of Lithuania and Taiwan could not be more apart, and Poland and Czech Republic don’t seem like proper “bridges” between them, so Jurgis Matulevičius’ “China Sea” seems like a very exotic co-production. But the fact that it came on top of the Critics’ Picks competition programme at Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival surely means something.

Our protagonist Osvald (Marius Repsys) used to be a kickboxing champion who enjoyed most when he fought in the Far East. But after an incident, a bar fight in which he (probably accidentally) hit a woman who happened to be at the place, he got banned from federation and from fighting for life. His therapy and (sincere?) apology don’t help, so he is disgraced, with almost no friends and support. He lives in a room above the titular Taiwanese restaurant owned by his friend Ju-Long (Jag Huang of “Life of Pi” fame) and his family, the only place in the world he feels understood and accepted.

Osvald tries to improve his life any way he can. His old coach lets him clandestinely work with the club’s new prospect Angela, but that would also go south when she loses her first fight and her parents find out what is the reputation of one of the men in her corner. At therapy, he meets Skaiste (Severija Janušauskaite), a trophy girlfriend of a brutal Russian gangster nicknamed Tourist (Vaidotas Martinaitis), and sets on rescuing her. Also, since Ju-Long owes money to the gangsters due to his gambling habit, and Osvald, as a former champion, has some “street credit” with them, he tries to save his only friend by balancing between the parties. In situation like this, the question is not whether his life will come down, but when and with how much bang…

China Sea sports the gloomy aura of an Eastern European psychological drama based in a social realist codes of grey skies, drab buildings, depleted factories in town suburbs and the constant snowing. Even its genre “flavouring” is not particularly Oriental, but its noir elements combine flavours from the Continental Europe, Scandinavia and the post-Soviet countries, with a touch of movies that incorporate the Russian Mafia tropes, such as David Cronenberg’s “Eastern Promises”. All of that makes “China Sea” a quintessentially Lithuanian product, dealing with quintessentially Lithuanian problems of the formally, but not actually, completed transition from the East to the West, and the positioning in the new world of uncertainty when and where will the new Cold War between the West and the Russia heat up to the blazing temperatures.

So, what is the Taiwanese angle to the whole thing? The Taiwanese family (we also have Lu Yi-ching as the mother and Sonia Yuan as the sister) could be comfortably switched for a, for instance, Thai (on the grounds of kickboxing, the national sport there), Vietnamese (present in the Eastern Europe even before the fall of communism), or, simply, Chinese one. However, in the terms of dramaturgy, they are not just clichés, “token Asians”, or even means to secure a co-production, but an integral part of Matulevičius’ vision and Saule Bliuvaite’s (of last year’s Locarno laureate “Toxic” fame) script. The connection between Osvald and Ju-Long seems organic and genuine (also thanks to the actors’ efforts), as they both feel out of their place and out of their life, trapped somewhere where the chances of survival are low and of success even lower, where neither the weather nor the people are nice.

In the end, “China Sea” might not be for everybody’s taste because it demands tuning in to a very specific frequency that does not rely much on genre postulates (it is not a martial arts movie with training sequences, the only one, actually resembling a news story, is seen at the opening and serves to provide the context), but on a singular vision. It is very bleak and offers no chance for redemption, so it cannot be used as a motivational quote or a cautionary tale. But there is something inherently humane in it, something that can pack a punch to the liver and to the plexus, a flying knee landing directly on the chin to knock one down and out. And if we can handle the pain, we also learn to appreciate it, because it makes us stronger and wiser. Ultimately, “China Sea” shares the mission with the Shaolin monks and Samurai warriors. What can be more Asian than that, at least in the movies?

Lista - Decembar 2025

 

Ukupno pogledano: 28 (svi dugometražni)

Prvi put pogledano: 24 (svi dugometražni)

Najbolji utisak (prvi put pogledano): The Secret Agent / O Agente Secreto

Najlošiji utisak: What Does That Nature Say to You / Geu jayeoni nege mworago hani

*ponovno gledanje

**kratkometražni

***srednjemetražni

kritike objavljene na webu su aktivni linkovi

datum izvor English Title / Originalni naslov (Reditelj, godina) - ocena/10

*01.12. video Raiders of the Lost Ark (Steven Spielberg, 1981) - 9/10
02.12. festival Magellan / Magalhaes (Lav Diaz, 2025) - 5/10
03.12. festival What Does That Nature Say to You / Geu jayeoni nege mworago hani (Hong Sang-soo, 2025) - 4/10
04.12. festival No Other Choice / Eojjeolsuga eobsda (Park Chan-wook, 2025) - 8/10
*04.12. kino I'm Still Here / Ainda Estou Aqui (Walter Salles, 2024) - 7/10
05.12. festival The Tale of Silyan / Prikaznata za Siljan (Tamara Kotevska, 2025) - 8/10
06.12. kino A Mouse Hunt for Christmas / Hvis ingen gar i fella (Henrik Martin Dahlsbakken, 2025) - 5/10
06.12. festival Militantropos (Alina Gorlova, Simon Mozgovyi, Yelizaveta Smit, 2025) - 7/10
*07.12. video Idiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (Steven Spielberg, 1984) - 8/10
11.12. festival The Secret Agent / O Agente Secreto (Kleber Mendonça Filho, 2025) - 9/10
11.12. kino Hamnet (Chloé Zhao, 2025) - 6/10
13.12. kino Bugonia (Yorgos Lanthimos, 2025) - 6/10
14.12. kino Five Nights at Freddy's 2 (Emma Tammi, 2025) - 5/10
15.12. video The Toxic Avenger (Macon Blair, 2023) - 7/10
17.12. video Bone Lake (Mercedes Bryce Morgan, 2024) - 6/10
17.12. video Shell (Max Minghella, 2024) - 7/10
18.12. festival Orphan / Árva (László Nemes, 2025) - 7/10
18.12. festival Silent Friend / Stille Freundin (Ildikó Enyedi, 2025) - 7/10
18.12. festival La Grazia (Paolo Sorrentino, 2025) - 7/10
18.12. video Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery (Rian Johnson, 2025) - 7/10
19.12. video Boys Go to Jupiter (Julian Glander, 2024) - 8/10
22.12. video No Sleep Till (Alexandra Simpson, 2024) - 5/10
*23.12. video Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (Steven Spielberg, 1989) - 8/10
24.12. video Bob Trevino Likes It (Tracie Laymon, 2024) - 7/10
28.12. video Relay (David Mackenzie, 2024) - 7/10
29.12. festival The Wizard of Kremlin / Le mage du Kremlin (Olivier Assayas, 2025) - 4/10
29.12. video Ballerina (Len Wiseman, 2025) - 5/10
30.12. video The Wailing / El llanto (Pedro Martin-Calero, 2024) - 7/10

A Film a Week - Sisa

 previously published on Asian Movie Pulse

For a movie, to defy the expectations is not always easy. Sometimes the reason for that lays in our own inability to disregard them in order to approach the film in an honest, fair and square way. Reviewers bear some power and responsibility that comes with it, but we’re all humans after all. In that regard, marketing and PR come as powerful, but ultimately a dangerous tool – if used in a wrong way, it backfires and does the damage.

Case in point: Jun Robles Lana’s newest film “Sisa” that has just premiered at the official competition of Black Nights Film Festival in Tallinn, Estonia. Sold as a war movie and a revenge thriller set just after the American takeover of the Philippines from the Spanish, it turns out to be something else entirely, and not in a good way.

That should be clear from the get-go, since the filmmaker opens the film with a series of info-cards that give us a politicized historical lesson on a pretense of providing some context. The theme is the American occupation of the archipelago in 1899 following the war with the Spanish who ruled the islands for the previous three centuries. Americans have established a reign of terror, executing hundreds of thousands of men and putting women and children in concentration camps. While there were still some fighters trying to resist to the new colonial oppressor from the jungle, the fear of revenge was great and the rest of the population suffered. (At this place, one can’t help asking a question whether the previous Spanish or the subsequent Japanese occupation were any better or milder from the Filipino point of view, but let’s not go down that alley.)

Anyhow, a nameless and seemingly aimless traumatized woman (Hilda Koronel) walks into the fenced village going straight to the guard tower without saying a word. The American soldiers are about to shoot her, but the women from the village beg them to spare her life. The woman does not remember her own name, but gets a new one, Sisa, after a crazed character from a popular book. Simmering with anger that could explode to rage and fury, Sisa observes the proceedings in the village: the openly racist attitude from the camp military commander and the condescending one from the teacher (Isabel Lamers), the pedophilia from the soldiers, the different survival tactics adopted by the different women in the village, from open defiance to accepting the role of the concubines in order to make something for themselves, which almost always results in rivalry and conflict among them.

Given that the men coming to the village to trade goods or to pass the message are no less opportunistic and abusive, one might wonder not if, but when will the titular character lead the rebellion against the cruelty world. Alas, that does not happen, so, instead of a genre movie that we are promised, we get two hours of thinly veiled historical historical lesson from a raging anti-colonial and pretend-feminist perspective garnished with a dose of torture porn to make a point. Basically, a pamphlet.

The acting is underwhelming throughout, given that the cast members usually deliver some rigidly written lines in an amateurish way with more or less theatrics, with the noble exceptions from Hilda Koronel whose character rarely speaks, so the actress has to use her facial expressions and posture as tool more often, which she does quite well, and Isabel Lamers who has enough experience and instinct to make something out of her character. The choice of the actors to play the American soldiers is quite questionable, as it seems that it consists of amateurs that never acted for camera before, but it might be a deliberate statement.

From such a modestly budgeted movie, no one could expect some high production values, but the production design is basic rather than minimalist and the costumes seem lifted directly from a local theater troupe. Some saving grace might be found in Carlo Mendoza’s cinematography, but not for the reason of the cinematography itself, but simply coming from the outdoor locations that could pose as the scenery from a western, adventure or a war movie.

“Sisa” is a highly underwhelming experience, but what frustrates the most is that there was the way for it not to be the case, and that way was pretty obvious. Even on a shoestring budget, adopting a genre approach of a war action movie or a period-set revenge thriller flick would result in a better movie and in a vehicle that could deliver the message in a way that is both more elegant and more loud. It had the character, it had the setting, but its filmmaker might have lacked both courage and skill to do so.

A Film a Week - The Moon Is a Father of Mine

 previously published on Cineuropa

George Ovashvili’s fifth feature film, The Moon Is a Father of Mine, which is premiering in competition in Tallinn’s Black Nights Film Festival, might serve as a prime example of the use and slight subversiveness of the “Chekhov’s gun” principle in dramaturgy. The principle dictates that, if the firearm is displayed in the first act, it must go off and set up a plot twist in the third. In the present film, the rifle is presented more elaborately at the very end of the introduction before enjoying two additional moments in the limelight in the hunting sequence which takes up most of the second act, and with the firing of the rifle opening the film’s final act.

Grade school student Toma (newcomer Giorgi Gigauri) is living with his grandma Sidonia (Kira Andronikashvili) in a town apartment in the autumn of 1991, while his mother is living and working away in Moscow. Toma has a knack of getting into trouble, especially when he decides to stand up to a group of bullies who are targeting him for having revealed his feelings to his classmate Anana. Tired of scolding him for his behaviour, the grandmother accepts the boy’s father Nemo (seasoned actor Givi Chugaushvili) taking care of Toma in his ancestral village in the mountains.

Once in the mountains, the father and son begin to get to know each other better. Toma learns that his father was imprisoned for killing a poacher while working as a ranger, and Nemo tries to pass on some wisdom to his son. But as soon as they start to trust each other implicitly, destiny separates them again.

The trouble is that, in Ovashvili’s movie, the third act seems a little anti-climactic and therefore not particularly purposeful, but that’s only one of the film’s issues. The magic realism introduced by the filmmaker at a given point never gets a firm foothold since it clashes with the social realist air established in the opening sequence. Slightly wooden acting and declamatory deliveries of stilted or falsely poetic dialogue, over-use of the shallow focus trick in Christos Karamanis’ cinematography, which only occasionally opens up onto the unique, breath-taking and eerie mountainous landscape, and Josef Bardanashvili and Jakub Kudlác’s unnerving, strings-heavy score which becomes omnipresent, regardless of what’s going on onscreen, also hamper the film. Eventually, the sluggish pace established in the editing phase by Kim Sun-min serves as a painful reminder that this could have made for a good short film rather than a pretentious, uneventful feature-length movie.

In fact, all these afore-mentioned “mandatory art house elements” seem to have been frivolously added to the mix in order to draw attention from selection committees and juries, rather than representing any kind of auteur vision. We also get the impression that, with The Moon Is a Father of Mine, Ovashvili is trying hard to regain the status he enjoyed after his first two feature films, The Other Bank (2009) and Corn Island (2014). It’s possible that there’s more to it, but ultimately the movie is written in a coded language only accessible to certain viewers. In this sense, the opening card informing us that we’re about to watch a true story, and the closing explanation that these events were followed by the Georgian Civil War, feel more like an attempt to wrap things up than a loose metaphor on freedom and self-sufficiency, the necessity of patriotism, or the importance of family roots.