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It has been months since Der Untergang first premiered. For one reason or another, I kept postponing it, month after month, country after country. Luck dictated I should see it on May 9th 2005, in Hannover, Germany. The 60th anniversary of the Armistice in Europe. The day we celebrate an united Europe (that same Europe that Robert Schumman kicked-off in the 50s and still works in preventing further wars). To make it clear: I am not German. Yet, for more than a few reasons, the history of the Second World War always touched me in a particular way. Not that it was any different from so many other wars. Except for the numbers. Never did human cruelty climbed to such levels. Never did we realize as then, how easy can society mutate into a monster. This was a highly intense movie to watch. Bruno Ganz will for ever be remembered as the magisterial actor that played Hitler - as Ben Kingsley is remembered for Gandhi. We see him in this film as a madman. There is no other way to describe it. He was insane. An insane man led the world to collapse, brought Humanity to its knees, and did so unquestioned. Der Untergang is full of strong imagery - it shouldn't matter if those in the streets were German or not. The human misery is total. I could not contain my tears in many occasions (not titanic tears, rather those that come from the depth, those that imply something beyond the screen. tears of History). In others, I simply had to close or cover my eyes, so brutal were the scenes. And as we come to an end, I am, as viewer, left with a sense of emptiness. The credits came, ran for 10 minutes, and I just sat there, crying compulsively for 10 minutes. Not due to the film, but to all that is behind it.

As I exited the theatre, I noticed a few other people drying their faces. Outside, the cold had returned. The wind blew strong and icy, some rain drops fell on me. And I walked. I wandered in the cold rain for one hour. I can only think of two other films that left me this disoriented, this helpless.

It should never happen again. Never.

Do not be deceived - I'll start with the low points and rise to apotheosis. Do not miss this flick!

Surprisingly enough, gay men and women have been allowed to serve in the Israeli army for over 2 decades now (for very pragmatic reasons, I'm sure). The army actually authorized the making of this film, based on a true story. Eytan Fox follows up with his favorite theme of sexual identity within the ranks of the army: here we see a gay couple, two officers, whose love shares its space with an ever-escalating Israelo-Arab conflict. The movie is filmed in this army outpost in the mountains bordering Lebanon, in the middle of Winter (thus the snow, that one seldom relates to the Middle East).

The theme is ambitious. Yet, it turns out that, for commercial reasons, the movie's 65 minutes elapse too fast. There is no time to develop the story. Not the story of the conflict, not the story of the different characters - so many deeply interesting -, and especially not the story of Yossi and Jagger. And boy, would we like to know more about them! These 65 minutes may have been OK for the theatre play that staged in Tel Aviv before the movie opened, but on screen it just leaves your mouth watering for more. I wished some scenes would have been deeper and more intense (the get-together at the end, or that last key-scene at night).

Despite all this, if you can forgive small formal nuisances, and get over that irritating camera-in-hand that works for Dogma but not for Fox, this film is a must-see! For the first 30 minutes of it, I had a disbelieving smile on my lips, and really wanted to joint the Israeli army - mind you, I'm neither Jewish, nor Israeli, and they would never take me! Yet life in the barracks seems so laid-back and so easy-going , so much in contrast with the madness of the conflict, with crazy girls and sexy boys, cheesy music in Hebrew and techno parties in the mountain clusters, white snow and great landscape, wild rabbits and sushi at dinner... Provided my officers looked as cute and handsome and so-damn-sexy-and-hugable-Yehudi-Levi (Jagger), of course I would enlist.

Mild as it may seem at times, it's perhaps the most consequent movie on a gay theme that I have ever seen. No tragic queens, no dramatic depressions and people who threaten to slid their wrists open. Yossi & Jagger's love is real and palpable, even if semi-secret (I think everyone new, anyway). The actors are superb, natural-born to the task, and that shows. One can easily relate with many of the characters - people whom we forget are people, just because they are in the army, just because they are in a war. The scene where Yossi and Jagger kiss in the snow is surprising, and by far the most sensuous thing I've seen in cinema in years! Absolutely delicious, playful, teasing, masterful. A classic in the future, I'm sure! Maybe because of that particular scene, one can survive as a viewer to the end of the movie, and still feel light as a feather. It all seems to end up in a good note, in spite of the circumstances.

The film as is, is not brilliant, but is at times a strike of genius! It's also a splash in the pond, showing you the dichotomies of a society we grew to relate with war and nothing else. Yossi & Jagger is a tender, sweet, sensuous, pure, honest, scrumptious, beautiful, sexy and consequent movie. I am a fan of Eytan Fox as of tonight, no doubt about that! Watch it, watch it, watch it!!! (the extras on the DVD give you even greater insight into his work). The storyline won't leave you that soon, and the main theme-song will replay on your head for weeks to come... cheesy and queenly as it may be ('Come', by Rita)!

Watching a film like this oddly makes you feel as good as when you watched 'Amelie'! I don't say this often, but I'd be ready to watch it all over again.

It's no secret that this film caused a lot of controversy, stirred many lakes, revolted many people and moved many more. All of us will have different interpretations of it. The one undeniable fact, however, is that what we see on the screen happened. As is. No law and peace-abiding Nation did a thing to prevent it. All those who could flee, fled. The rest is history.

Don Cheadle has a break-through role in his career. The role of a man who, saving the distances, reminds me of other brave people such as Schindler or Aristides de Sousa Mendes, whom in extreme circumstances, and going beyond their very human fears and flaws, did the right thing. Nick Nolte doesn't have a brilliant role. Actually, as flimsy as the helplessness the poor Canadian Colonel felt in real life, probably.

Hotel Rwanda is a real eye-opener. It reminds everyone that the news have a human face. What happened there in the 90s is nowadays happening in Sudan (and has been for years!) as in other places: people are simply getting killed for nothing. That's the bottom line. Some will say that's the way the world is. Those are the cynical. That is not the way the world should be. We screamed never again. Yet, here it is again, asking for a new script in 2015: Hotel Khartum. The acting is not superb. The script aims at telling a story, but also at making the movie a real tear-jerker.

But if one thinks about all those that survived the Genocide and are perhaps thankful for the story, then it had to be worth making it. Despite the lack of help, no one will now be able to forget.

Any human being must feel ashamed of himself while watching it. It's a civil offense in most democracies to see someone in need of help and doing nothing. There isn't a more extreme example. We all shoved it under the carpet and pretended it wasn't there. Hotel Rwanda stands as a memory. To face us with our passiveness, it should be mandatory.

To tell you the truth, we all agreed to meet and watch Hotel Rwanda... except that I showed up at the wrong cinema, bought the wrong ticket and didn't notice a thing until the movie actually started... I almost left. But then (having payed € 6,00 to go inside), I decided to give it a shot. It turns out that the film was not that bad, really! OK, everyone in the audience looked like an accordion player (I'd say there's lots of them around!!!). Yeah, and the start is sort of slow. But once you get in the mood, and you start to enjoy the "emotional reportage" kind of approach that Stefan Schwietert chose, you actually appreciate it.

This is a documentary about 5 accordion musicians - one American-Slovenian, one real Slovenian, one Finnish, one Swedish and one Austrian. They all get together to... well, you guessed, play accordion! It's the story of how they got together, how they organized their tour, how they learned about each other's very different backgrounds, but also their common love for music. Above all, it's a very honest, sensitive, beautiful and actually touching portrait of pure love for music. Perhaps the most touching of all is the way Maria Kalaniemi (from Finland, and the only woman in the group) views it. Her matter-of-fact attitude is very "Suomi-woman", she seems more reserved than all the others, but her part of the story was the most poetic, almost lyrical. Imagine Finland in the Summer: a lake, barely anyone around, and she plays and sings with another woman in that beautiful, musical and poetic language. I would be omitting something important if I didn't tell you I had tears in my eyes. I had. And that is exactly the way she feels her music, and the way she wants people to feel her music: to, despite not understanding the words, being able to feel how strong the melody and the storyline are. Undoubtedly, one of the nicest pieces of music I've heard. I hope they have a sound-track.

There are no spoilers on this one, not even a hint about what you'll find in this movie. If you ask me, I would tell you to read on to the end of this text. You'll know how I felt, but not what the movie is about: you should see it unknowingly. Let it take you by surprise. For a very long time, no movie made me feel like leaving the theatre. But, having this policy of always giving the director a chance to either create a last-minute surprise effect or to prove himself ridiculous to an unspoken degree, I usually stay - even if I would vote zero for some. "Darwin's Nightmare" had me moving in my seat, sweating, swallowing nonexistent saliva, squeezing my hands into each other, thinking about all and nothing. Two times I simply had to close my eyes, many times I thought I had to get up and go - not that the documentary film was bad. Quite the opposite. Formally, it was too good. That's why it was so bothering. Maybe an overly emotional reaction, but we will all have different ones. Personally, this is the type of story I cannot dissociate of, and view as a spectator. This is the world, and this is tragic. Now: we all know it. We just didn't see it like this before. Not with this cutting-edge cruelty.

I could feel the tension around me, the tension inside the theatre, the discomfort that it rose. Yet, the laughter that a few purpose-made cynical scenes originated hurt like knives. I couldn't believe people laughed in such a movie (and then again, I heard people laughing during "Schindler's List"!!).

There is no reason to laugh. A few times, actually, there are plentiful reasons to cry. This movie hurts. It's poignant to the point of being unbearable. Sad. Tragic. Violent - the story is cruel, and Hubert is cruel as well. Or realistic. He does not make it one bit easier for the viewer. Rather is the viewer allowed to suffer, to sink in shame, to open his/her mouth in awe, to see reality, the dark reality of many places exactly as it is. Besides all, presented in a very intelligent format, and with a cunning sense of fairness and discipline. It was painful. It worked on me, and I only wished it would be over. Personally, this was no film, this was a severe blow in my stomach. I wonder how will it feel to those who actually have no idea about life... 10 out of 10. How could I give it less...?

Let's imagine for a split-second that you have not read a line about 'City of God' as you click Play in your remote. As the footage starts, the camera snaps back and forth in a frenzy, people dance the samba, a party is on the make, a poor chicken watches as her mates become chicken wings. And hence we get to the big chicken run. It's the most brilliant scene of the whole movie - in fact, the whole movie revolves around it. Around this frantic scene and the shooting that follows and that sadly shows the reality of thousands of Brazilians in Rio and elsewhere. There is no space in Paulo Lins' novel for the idle hedonism of 'Capitães da Areia', the renown Jorge Amado classic that tells us the story of a junior delinquent gang in the streets of Salvador in Bahia. 'City of God' simply has no space. Not even space for the viewer. From the first scene onwards, you are permanently reminded that you aren't but a viewer, that you are outside, that you have absolutely not the slightest-faintest-slimmest idea of what it feels like to be inside. The narrative structure is a strike of genius in that sense. Not that it was a cutting-edge idea - it has been done time and time again. But the manipulation of at least three hand-held cameras, the constant sound of samba and the relapses of the story, together with the sheer vivacity of the original dialogues (mind you, I do mean the original, extremely nuanced Rio favela-slang Portuguese dialogues!!) make the movie possible to be watched without post-traumatic-stress. You are outside, and you know it. Your whole body is either stiff or numb, uncomfortable in any case. That strange butterfly-cold-revolving sensation in your stomach reminds you that you are not comfortable. The way you breathe (or don't)reminds you that you're not comfortable. The way you bite your knuckles or shake your head in disbelief, perhaps the dampness of your eyes when that young child cries in fear of being shot dead reminds you that you are not comfortable, that this is not your world. Sometimes, in your deep discomfort, your thoughts will go ashtray, only to be rescued back by the next still, the next title, the nest flashback that requires your attention. That is the stylistic exercise that achieves the objective of keeping you focused and in your seat. That is the role Meirelles responsibly takes as film director.

The rooftops of 'City of God' in the '60s remind me of Soweto. The street scenes in the '60s remind me of Soweto, Jo'burg today. Or Gaza. Or Bagdad. Or Monrovia. Or Mogadiscio. Or Rio, for the matter. See a pattern here? There is no innocence any more. There is simply the ignorance that another life is possible outside those impossible invisible walls of the favela. There is crime and punishment, cause and consequence, shoot and shoot-back, or better yet, shoot-before. It could be a war anywhere in the world. Yet, it's the city you choose to go to for holiday. You'll be dazzled after you watch these 130 minutes. Meirelles allows you the luxury of enjoying the story, despite the violence contained in it. But do stop to think about it for a minute afterwards. Think: how many of those real-life actors, casted in a real-life favela in Rio do you believe had a similar fate since 2002? Think again. This is the harsh reality. Imagine this was a documentary - you would need counseling after watching. But you do need to know what lies behind Morro-do-Pão-de-Açúcar (Sugar Loaf Mountain). Some wars happen in the gut of our society - in Rio as in Paris or L.A., and 'City of God' is there to remind you.

And, well, contrarily to what you thought, the worse in Rio is not that your camera gets knacked. Now you've learned that you'll never see the worse, lucky you... F.y.i., the chicken escapes alive (clever chicken!).

In principle, I would feel tempted to give it only a six. Except that then there are "buts"... But there is Werner Herzog. But there is the sociopathically brilliant Klaus Kinski. But there is that unforgettable final scene. But there is the historic memory behind the story. But there are silent scenes of sheer contemplation. But there is the image of the fortress of Elmina (originally Ajudá, or Ouidah), that lingers long after you have seen the movie. But there is the amazing sensuality of all those female-warriors in beautiful war outfits. But there is that young girl singing near the end, the lavish, teasing, provocative, self-assured look on her face, the expression in her eyes, the crystalline/aggressive sound of her voice. And 'but' there is the music. If you have read Bruce Chatwin's novel, you will be able to add up some details to the story line. The horror of the Kingdom of Daomé, for instance, is far from what BC described himself - and actually far from what history books tell us. In fact, you could build endless stories inside this movie. That's what makes it so good: all the things missing. It could have been a better achievement, but for all it's worth, it's really not the kind of movie you're likely to forget after a few weeks!

The purpose of Leonel Vieira in the making of this movie was NOT to show the world that there is another type of Portuguese cinema - he made the type of movie he knows how to. And if that was good for cash boxes and awards in Portugal and abroad, so much the better! The purpose of Leonel Veieira was also not to prove to the Portuguese public that Portuguese actors can act. He would have chosen someone other than Diogo Morgado if that was the case. Morgado hangs himself together next to the likes of bigger-than-life Maitê Proença, and in the wild setting that the movie provides, one can nearly forget about his bad acting. The purpose of Leonel Vieira was also not to simply adapt The Jungle, a novel which has been translated into every imaginable language and delighting readers over generations, being one of the first world-best-sellers in history.

Leonel Vieira, I am convinced, wanted to do the same thing that every movie director wants: he wanted to tell us a story. And a story he told. A creepy, violent, despairing, overwhelming story of the life in the Amazon in a lawless period, in a period where men were not worth their shoes, if they had any. So, the question is not whether Diogo Morgado was good or not in the movie(surrounded by so many high-calibre starts, who cares, really...?); the question is: was the movie any good. Oh!, yes, it was! The photography is undoubtedly the best that has been done in Portugal. The script is the antithesis of typical Portuguese cinema (slow and melancholic) - although with hints of it! The opening traveling scene reminded me of Kubrik's 'The Shining'. And then there are scenes of outrageous shock. I challenge you all to watch the movie, for the story's sake. Watch it and forget about silly critical biases. What you want to do is to be thrown in the violence of the amazon. And that has totally been achieved. If it wasn't for Morgado, I'd give it a 9!

Somehow I lost it in Canada and US. Thank goodness for the European delays. Germany was overrated - I refuse to watch Julia Roberts dubbed in German. So, it was sheer luck to walk up the Champs Elysées in Paris and see the poster. I went in. It was a very cold day, very gray, very sad - a very "Paris day". Lunch time. The theatre was nearly empty. And then the movie starts. No, this is not one more of those feel-good Julia Roberts flicks. And yes, she still gives us enough of those gorgeous smiles aplenty. Enough to make me happy at least. But that is beyhond the point. In this movie, you see her and 3 other outstanding actors playing the theatre of life on screen. It's not the right movie for a sad day. You'll feel like committing suicide afterwards (or almost). But it is a masterpiece of human behaviour and human relationships. The dialogues are pure, and intentionally harsh. Intentionally real. The characters are intentionally sad and worthy of pity. One thinks: «oh, God, am I also like this? Does this happen in MY life?» That's the shocker. The movie is so real, so CLOSE. Masterful direction, and 4 actors who matured to do a movie with scenes of pure brilliance. A must-see. But not when you're sad. Consider yourself warned. :)