Reviews

To the best of my knowledge, Clive Barker is the one who can be credited with pioneering the idea of hell+paradise. According to Barker, hell is not your average general-purpose sink for sinners. No, sir, it's something designed for the exclusive pleasure/torment of those who like to dabble in forbidden S&M practices. So it all looks pretty optimistic in a way: if you ain't much into leather, you've got nothing to worry about; the other way round, if it just happens to be your cup of tea, you've got nothing to worry about either, because then you are guaranteed to spend the eternity in the hellacious company of the Cenobites ("demons to some, angels to others") who's got "such sights to show you" that you'll say along with one of the characters: "I thought I'd gone to the limits. I hadn't". Overall a properly sick and disturbing yet truly imaginative and thought-provoking picture. Recommended as a popular illustration of shrink classics.

A properly light-hearted adaptation of A. Dumas' book, with a lot of singing, dancing, fencing and prancing around.

What's bad about this movie, is that it's ultimately brainless and looks like it was made for 8-year-olds, or something, but this is why I still remember it in the first place - because I first saw it when I was about that age. (True, this is just the age when people normally read the book). Another disadvantage is that the characters don't look like Frenchmen at all - and don't even attempt to, except D'Artagnan and possibly Athos. These two arguably do have something "French" about them.

What's good about this movie is that it offers no angle to the wind, and you can take it in like a glass of beer - you're through before you even know it.

One more thing, the film was obviously made under a strong influence of "CJ Superstar", which shows especially in the fact that Aramis is the spit and image of Ted Neeley (with a goatee) - looks like him and sings like him, though I can't say if that's good or bad.

Score it 3/10.

In Russian cinematic history, this film stands out as one of the high points in projecting the truth about war on screen. It focuses on the tragedy of the expendable man and questions the moral license of those who claim the right to play with his life. The film is full of bitter, unrelenting observation of human nature, combining a brilliant study of characters with a deep insight into relationships between people.

The available English translations of the film's title ("Checkpoint" and "Check-up on the Roads") are incorrect because of an ambiguity in the original name. A more adequate (yet also ambiguous) rendering would be "The Road Test". The idea behind it is the guerilla practice of testing new fighters by sending them on the mission of ambuscading the enemy's vehicles.

This film alone would be enough to earn director Aleksei German the name of a genius of Russian cinema.

One of the most excellent movies ever produced in Russia and certainly the best one made during the decline of the USSR. Incredibly clever, hilarious and dramatic at the same time. Superb acting. Overall a masterpiece. Score it 10/10.

I finally saw it. Now I understand why it was kept so long from the wide national audience.

Before I saw it with my own eyes, I couldn't imagine that Mr Mikhalkov, whom I always respected as a clever person and a talented filmmaker, could ever live to spawn anything like that.

Some people say the movie is beautiful. Yes, it is.

The beauty of this flick is that no words can express just how bad it is, and what makes it even worse is that it was meticulously designed to be exactly what it is, a "spreading klyukva-tree". This absurd phrase, meaning a fictitious "cranberry-tree", is commonly attributed to the famous A. Dumas who allegedly created it in his memoirs about Russia as a tribute to "authentic" terminology. In reality, though, the great Frenchman was never responsible for the appearance of this biological monstrosity, neither intentionally nor accidentally. It is people like Mr Mikhalkov who take it on themselves to water and grow this non-existent curiosity of the national flora.

Made with the only intention in the world to win another Oscar by catering to the taste of people who believe that Russia is something they see in movies like "Dr Zhivago" (God forgive those filmmakers - they didn't know what they were doing), "The Barber of Siberia" is nothing else than a juicy spit in the face of fellow-countrymen and an out-and-out mockery of the foreign audience, who, of course, are assumed to remain in blissful ignorance of this outrageous fact, being poorly informed as they are about the country's life, and deceived by the sly cinematic work.

If the westerners, to whom the movie is actually oriented, could only imagine what a turkey it is, they would think of nothing else than tar and feather the film-director who serves people this dish.

Overall shame and disgrace. Don't believe anything in this laughable piece of c**p. It's a lie from beginning to end.

By the standards of Mr Mikhalkov's previous works, I wouldn't give this one a single star out of a thousand. Yes, folks, "we are sold - mighty badly sold."

To those familiar with theoretical concepts of filmmaking my comments here will probably appear ridiculous; however, to me, a complete layman, the things that I want to talk about seem rather intriguing.

First, I'd like to say that the Ten Commandments is the only epic of its kind that I happened to see so far, which, by the way, I did just a little while ago, because this kind of movie is not, shall we say, your everyday entertainment in the predominantly atheistic Russia.

What attracts me to this film, however, isn't its subject matter or particular genre, but rather something about its cinematography, which I never noticed in any other movie.

The thing that I found remarkable is that every major (and hence predictable) scene looks exactly as you would expect it to look like in terms of the composition, the camera angle and the general direction in which the characters move.

Do other people feel so too, or is it just me? Maybe we're talking about some archetypes here? Anyway, plainly speaking, it looks like Mr. DeMille was someone who really managed to strike the right chord.

From the viewpoint of style and aesthetics, the movie is truly unique, at least I cannot think of anything quite like it.

A simple story of the same kind that small kids tell each other in summer camps after lights-out. This simplicity is a trademark of the movie. Watching this one gives you a feeling similar to the fascination of a child with something as predictable as another fairy-tale, and yet appealing to a mind that can still get spell-bound with the same old story. It's like looking through a comic-book, which you could scan at a glance, and yet can't stop reading the captions before you reach the end. Because such is the beauty of a story-telling that holds your attention till the last minute.

The atmosphere of the film is surprisingly gentle, if not to say feminine, with a simple yet exquisite touch to everything, that I won't give away. You have to see it to believe that such things can be found in a slasher, although, technically speaking, the genre is pretty hard to determine. On the one hand, you got to brand it as horror simply for the lack of a more suitable common term, at least, I don't understand the idea of a psychological thriller where characters get ripped with a meat hook by someone who walks through walls and doesn't really exist. On the other hand, you could tell that the movie, with its evident focusing on the aesthetic side, was never actually intended to be scary. Much rather sad and weepy in a good sense.

The film is based on Clive Barker's moralistic concept of attractive evil, which by definition can't give you any good old scares, but can still freak you out a bit, and, what's most important, superbly fits the story and its implications.

Watch this one with a child's heart, and you'll get it broken when you're done. I almost wish I hadn't seen it yet, because you'll never get this special feeling except when you see it for the first time.

The acting is as good as it gets for the category. Personally, I'm content with the fact that I liked the principal characters, especially the girls, Helen and her friend. They are really sweet, and it feels sad to see them get wasted after all. Candyman himself is also a way charming fellow whom you would sure love to meet, minus the hook. Certainly, a winning part, which, by the way, is in perfect keeping with the said concept of attractive evil.

The juvenile delinquents "playing Candyman" are very convincing and give more depth to his legend, which begins to look flawless in its brutality (plus love story) perfectly clinging to the immature mind. This almost makes you believe that Candyman is a real-life urban legend.

The opening sequence is fantastic and unforgettable. The dilapidated Cabrini Green settings get a special credit for imaginative turn. The musical score is completely fabulous and heart-rending.

If you don't mind to drop a tear once in a while, the movie is your cup of tea. Buy it and watch it any time you want to feel sad and kind of lonesome.

The film is worth saying a lot more, which I would certainly do but for the restrictions. For instance, it would be interesting to discuss the similarities between "Candyman" and "Hellraiser" with more insight into Clive Barker's writings.

There's another thing, if you like this film, you might also want to check out its sequel, which is nowhere near so good, but is still worth your attention because of the final scene, the one with the tinsel stuff jingling over the little girl's bed to the accompaniment of gentle music. Cool!

Last but not least, the other reason to view the sequel is because some of its look and feel might remind you of "Angel Heart". This one is a masterpiece for those who can appreciate it. Highly recommended.

Having first seen this film about 10 years ago I can't stop thinking about the nature of its influence on the audience.

I am not going to waste time on discussing the script, the acting, the camera angles, etc. All this stuff has been addressed well enough in other people's comments, and I basically agree with them despite all their diversity, because the only important thing about such purely subjective matters as comments is the integrity of a person's opinion. From this viewpoint, there is nothing much left to say. Instead, I would like to take a look at the movie form a different perspective, which in itself is not original, either, but is still worth a little more attention, necessary to emphasize the basic difference in people's perceptions of this piece of cinematography. I will speak in rather general terms, for the most part without specific reference to Kubrick's film.

It is hardly arguable that an essential element of horror is the incongruous. Hence, the effect of a good horror flick must be of hypnotic nature, so that you should believe in what shows on the screen in almost the same way as you believe in the absurdities of your own dreams. The essence of hypnosis lies in turning on your subconscious. Hence what you see before your eyes isn't so important as what's going on before your mind's eye at the same moment. It stands to reason that for its full effect an act of hypnosis doesn't have to look like a superstar performance.

The same with a horror movie, which doesn't have to be a masterpiece, or something, simply to produce a profound sense of fear. Reversely, no artistic merits whatsoever can help if the movie fails to convey this subliminal message.

I guess, there is hardly anybody who would measure the psychological effect of his or her own nightmares by their "artistic" merits. Nightmares are scary not because they have a convincing "plot", or anything of that sort, but simply because the person is asleep, i.e. in a special state of mind that submerges part of the conscious deep into the subconscious, thus bringing the rational into close contact with the irrational, which is exactly what is responsible for the worst human fears.

People are susceptible to hypnosis in a different measure. Hence different reactions of various parts of the audience. Some people are not hypnotic enough, and the mesmerizing passes are lost on them. The eyes of these persons are not turned inward, but only outward as they keep counting the swings of the pendulum, as it were, instead of going to sleep. These individuals are evidently terribly bored, and are consequently at leisure to catalogue a lot of annoying details about the hypnotist: the tones of his voice are not convincing enough, the passes he makes are not impressive, and, for God's sake, his shoes don't hardly Shine as they should.

If you don't like Kubrick's film, there is nothing I can do to talk you into believing that it's great, and if you do like it, there is nothing I need to say further. But if you haven't seen it yet, well, that makes a difference. Chances are you just might like it, but the problem is, this might be a little more than what you bargained for, because the subliminal effect of this horror flick, unlike that of tons and tons of others, seems to be virtually never-ending. It's almost as if the hypnotist is gone without waking you up, and you seem to be stuck forever in your mental Overlook, just like Jack in the end. Of course, it's all mighty personal, but who knows?

Anyway, if you happen to be the suggestive type, be advised that an excellent relief for the anxiety of your white nights resulting from inadvertently watching this movie could be easily afforded by reading the numerous negative comments, which, luckily, never fail to appear, so you will always be quite comfortably provided in this respect. For a better therapeutic effect, you might even feel like writing some such comment of your own. A ready-made summary "Who's afraid of the Dull Boy Jack?" would suit the material just fine.

No other film in the world serves better to describe the idea of a Russian movie classic. This verdict could be undersigned by millions and millions of people in the former USSR.

On the other hand, this film is the best one ever made in that peculiar genre which flourished in the Soviet times under the unofficial name of "Ostern", labeled thus by some highbrow wits. What is Ostern? Plainly and simply, it is Western Russian style, with West replaced by East and the word "Ostern" itself being a pun on the German equivalents for "East" and "Easter". The genre of Ostern is strictly limited by the following rules:

The place, Central Asia; the time, the 20's, or the early 30's. The main conflict is the re-conquering by the Soviets of those parts of the region that had belonged to the Russian Empire before the revolution. The good guys are Red Army men. The bad guys are local rebels, pictured strictly as highwayman and cutthroats, known by the generic (Turkic) name of "basmachi" - imagine some Mexican banditos from your horse opera, dressed like the Taliban and headed by a Calvera (The Magnificent Seven) conveniently renamed to suit the time and place.

Now, the way the particular Ostern winds up, is this good guy Sukhov (a Russian Clint Eastwood) has to wipe out, almost single-handedly, a whole gang of smugglers and outlaws terrorizing a certain region of the Caspian (or maybe Aral?) Sea coast and headed by a gruesome yet not entirely unlikable desperado named Abdulla, who is Sukhov's main adversary.

The movie combines several genres. Sometimes it's a simple shoot-em-all, sometimes a drama, and sometimes even a bit of comedy, with all this mixed in a perfect proportion. The sparks of humor look especially good on the rather tense general background, thus creating a unique atmosphere and spicing up the whole thing.

Being the best Ostern ever made, the movie is a tolerably good action flick, but actually it's a thousand times more than that. For the Russians it's a cult movie number one, with almost every line being a celebrated catch-phrase. Especially well-known is this one, "The East is a delicate matter", said by Sukhov to his young partner Petrukha. The baleful significance of this wisecrack, made in the early 70's, has been finally appreciated only after the Afghan campaign and from then on never fails to remain on the national political agenda.

The soundtrack has become truly famous, with the theme song "Your Excellency Lady Luck" (name translated) a top hit for decades, and, no doubt, for many, many years to come.

Most of the principal characters have become heroes of numerous jokes, and therefore, part and parcel of the national folklore.

If you haven't seen this one, you don't know Russian cinematography, simply because this film alone is worth hundreds and hundreds of others made in that country.

An adaptation of Mikhail Bulgakov's story based on a grotesque collision of different historical periods. Some visual humor involved. A couple of awkward chases and a lot of awesome jokes. One of the best Russian comedies, second to none except 'Brilliantovaya ruka' by the same film director.

It is interesting that the film spans not only the time of Ivan the Terrible and the 70's but also the 20's when Bulgakov's original was written. Although the influence of the 20's is mainly atmospheric, it is nevertheless visible in the fact that most of the character's names sound funny in the way usual for the satirical literature of that period.

Contrary to what may seem to a foreign audience, the chase sequences in the movie serve only as a rather ineffectual background for the main comical action, which is almost entirely verbal and basically relies on the combination of contemporary language with its archaic counterpart of the 16th century - a detonating mixture that is guaranteed to kill the native-speaking audience.

Considering the fact that the movie is featuring some of the most popular Soviet actors, it is not surprising that this low-budget and obviously slap-dash production has managed to gain the nationwide reputation of a classic, with most of its memorable quotes nearly approaching the status of catch-phrases.

The film can be tentatively recommended to advanced learners of Russian and certainly to all those who specialize in the study of this language.